We are this close {} to Brangelina

Ever since we first found out that Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie decided to make our little city their home, hubby has been on a mission to meet them or more importantly Brad Pitt. I get occasional reports of him passing by their apartment, condo, million dollar mega French Quarter home, or whatever you call a place like that while at work. Me, I thought it was funny that there was a big hoopla about them moving down here and wrote one post about it; then moved on with my unexciting life. However, George has informed me that he is moving ever so close to actually meeting Brad and now I am extremely concerned.

You see when George says things he means to do them, unlike me who is, basically, just blowing smoke up your ass. George causally mentioned that he would start some new business and, Voila!, here we are in the process of opening a law enforcement supply store. He mentioned that we would get a house soon after we were married and 5 months after our wedding we are moving into a house. He tells me that he is not going to let some land developer ruin our quality of life and, damnit, if he didn’t start a civic association and beat down those evil developers. I listen to his idea of how the surrounding parishes should have a say in the going-ons of New Orleans and watch how he tells anyone involved in political groups and local politicians his idea. Needless to say look out if George tells you he is going to do something, while you are thinking he is crazy, he is off doing it.

I nearly dropped my combo fried rice when George told me, with excitement in his voice, that he was very close to meeting and possibly shooting [guns] with Brad Pitt. First, liberals shoot guns. Color me shock, I thought only rednecks, hunters and Republicans went shooting. The story goes that George’s associate built a spiffy new gun for a security person on Brad’s (see we are first name basis, now) movie that is being filmed in New Orleans. This security person wants a cool gun to go shooting with Brad on the weekend. It is some 1911, blah, blah, yakkity smakkity gun. George’s associate, in the law enforcement store, has all kinds of connections in the world of guns, police officers and movie security (he has worked as a security and gun person on several films that were filmed in our area), so George sees this as his way to get to go out shooting with the mega-star. I think he is crazy, but I have thought that before and look where it has gotten me.

I don’t need this kind of hassle. I am happy in my nobody knows me , sitting on the sofa picking my butt life and don’t need the added pressure of not living up to the standards of a high-fluting Hollywood star. One that has more charity under her belt than God. I am talking of Angelina here. Here is how I see our conversation goes:

Angelina: Hi

Wendy: Ur… (burp, fart) …Sorry (falls on face)

Angelina: I was so moved by my trip to Cambodia to adopt little Maddox. He has added so much to my life that I can’t put it into words.

Wendy: I give our unwanted crap to Goodwill when I remember. See there is a bunch of it in the corner.

Angelina: I feel that my adoptions have been so fulfilling. I have so much love to give and want to adopt every unwanted child in the world.

Wendy: Damnit, Amber stop your whining. I am so sick of hearing that you are hungry. I will feed you when I get a chance. Can’t you see I am talking to a Hollywood star, here? Oh for God sake, Sam. Stop opening the cabinets. How many times does it take for you to smash your finger whenever you open the cabinet to stop doing it? Uh…sorry, what did you say?

Angelina: Life has just gotten so much better with the addition of Brad and the kids into my life that I can’t think of anything better. I have considered quitting the movie business and traveling the world. We would visit the poorest of countries and let them know that they are not forgotten. My children would learn that there is more to life than America and it’s wealth.

Amber: Mommy, I want the new Genevieve Barbie. I have to have it. (Runs back to watch her 12th hour of TV)

Wendy: I guess I will have to run down to the Target to get her the Barbie. While I am there I better buy as much crap as I can find and don’t really need. I lurve to spend the money. I will probably just throw the stuff out in about a month, because the house will be over run with useless crap. Oh yeah, I think charity is great.

Angelina: I guess we better get going. I need to read Shakespeare to the kids before bed. Then I need to contact UNICEF and finalize my plans for my next trip. (Gathers her kids and runs for the door. Glad that she has escaped with her life and morals still intact.)

Wendy: Amber, I told you stop that whining. You are going to bed without dinner. (Sam sits staring into the corner all alone.) Yeah, thanks for stopping by. (I wonder if I still have time to read all my blogs. I think the kids can survive on chicken tenders again, tonight. Should I make them a veggie? Nah, they wont die without it.)

Or something like that. God help me, I don’t need Hollywood royalty walking into my house judging me. I wonder if there is enough time to save a starving country or alert the world of some injustice in the world. Nah, I am too tired for all that. I still need to decide how I am going to watch Scrubs, American Chopper and CSI. They all come on at the same time, tonight.

Note to anyone that thinks I am serious: There is no chance in hell that this will happen. Of course, I never thought that the Saints would make it to a NFC Championship game. Holy crap, I am really scared, now.