I think I've figured out what Angelina Jolie does with this adoption thing. Most people go to a country and they want to bring a souvenir back to their homeland to remember their lovely trip and to also have something cultural in their home that signifies that they are world travelers, wandering the globe, picking up knickknacks here and there. Only with Angie, this little cultural souvenir happens to be human, a sort of baby bauble to bring home to Papa.
"Surprise! Look what I brought back from Taiwan as a memento from the movie I filmed there. You're a grandpa! Again."
I'm starting to wonder if she doesn't have a serious problem emerging here, besides the anorexia. (Speaking of that, Barbara Walters interviewed Paris in jail. Her quote from Paris was she was not screaming and crying, but she wasn't eating or sleeping, so pretty close to the way she was living her life before she went in, sans the booze. Oooooo. Might we be able to see her coccyx through the front of her dress now?. Well, at least something good will have come out of her ordeal.)
Back to skeletal Angie, she's looking remarkably articulated and energetic for a lab specimen, and in great spirits. Must be the speed she is on that helps her feel no need to eat and yet gives her tons of endless energy for her compulsive shopping for orphans. In normal charitable circles that means going out and buying shoes, coats, and other essentials the foster homes run low on. Nope, none of that prosaic shopping for Angie. That's way too vulgar for the socially aware Jolie. She lines the little kiddies up like Julie Andrews in Sound of Music. "Now, let's see we have a white one here, 2 yellow ones here, and 1 black one here. No, no. This is ALL wrong. Something is missing. It seems off balance somehow. You. Yes, you, Tax? No, oh right, Pax, move over here next to the incredibly gorgeous white baby girl. Yes. That's it. HHmmmmmm. I think I have it...We need another white baby. I'll bring one back with me after my trip from doing that movie in the Czech Republic."
I definitely think she suffers from an new emerging disorder in Hollywood that they will have a special place for in rehab in about 10 years. They'll call it the Joan Crawford Ward, a.k.a., Mommy Dearest Wing.
I noticed in the bradgeline latest outing promoting a movie Angie has starred in about Daniel Pearl (that should be interesting) that Angie was a shining, smiling bag of skin held together with very taut, sinuous muscles while Brad looked distracted to say the least. I'd seen this in other photos and put it off as just wanting some private time, but this was an official publicity promotion of her new movie that she starred in and he produced, one would think there would be a little more enthusiasm displayed.
"So, Brad, does Angie have anything special planned for you on Father's Day?"
Disgruntled and distracted Brad, "What?"
"Are you going to be doing anything special on Father's Day?"
A bleary-eyed, hassled, and disheveled Brad looks at the TV camera while nervously rubbing the back of his neck and says, "Nope. Just gettin' up with my kids. That's enough." Indeed. Evidently, he's had a lot of practice over the last few months while Angie was filming the movie. This was largely part of his "producer" duties. "He's a good boss...uh, and a GREAT dad!"
Ah, the joys of being a father. Hey Brad, can you ever have enough kids? Angie doesn't think so!
One last complaint about Hollywood mothers in general. This is how high they have now raised the bar for woman and gone into a territory they never should have entered. We hausfraus should have had this territory locked up:
First, it wasn't enough to not gain any more than 40 pounds with your pregnancy, then you had to wear sprayed on clothing to emphasize that it's ALL BABY! I was okay with that. I gained a reasonable amount during my pregnancy, unfortunately the majority of it all Ben&Jerry's and donuts. But no. That wasn't enough. Then we were required to come sprinting out of the delivery room 2 minutes after having plopped out our bundle of joy wearing the size 2 we wore before we even dreamed of getting pregnant. Now you have to wear sprayed on clothing that shows right up until you delivery that sweet little baby bump and nothing else. Your thighs and arms are still the size of sticks. Your butt still has it's lovely lifted rounded pertness, but your boobs have gained 2-3 cups and they're deliciously plump. Evidently all the fat in the body has miraculous self-contained itself to your boobs. When it's all over and your posing for your celebrity photos with baby, you have the luscious-still-breastfeeding boobs, but they look like they've been pasted on the body of some donated university cadaver.
Note: I understand Angie has been grieving her mother's death and that "I just finished breastfeeding and am having trouble getting my nutrition back on track." Correct me if I'm wrong, but shouldn't your nutrition have been on track while you were breastfeeding? And, I don't know about you, but while I was breastfeeding I was eating for two. That's where my troubles began. I had a voracious appetite and no matter what I did, couldn't seem to lose that lovely extra fat insurance that your body stores for the baby in just about every other area but your breasts.
Here's a tip Ang, eat lots of Ben and Jerry's and you should have no trouble getting your figure back. Carrots and celery just doesn't pack on the pounds like you'd think.
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