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Home > Media

Brad and Jen: Not much sympathy, frankly

30 January 2005

It's a piece of petty revenge that every man craves. After dumping you, your ex-girlfriend phones you 'to see if you're OK' and, you suspect, have a quick gloat. But you don't say: 'Not really. I'm sitting here on my own in soiled underpants watching The Vicar of Dibley and drinking White Lightning. Weeping.'

No. Instead you say: 'I'm going out with Angelina Jolie now. How are you, anyway?'

But, sadly, this sort of thing doesn't happen unless you're Brad Pitt.

Many column inches have been written about Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston's relationship and their recent split after a staggering four years of marriage. There were Differences, as we well know, about work commitments and starting a family. Perhaps worse, Brad moved into the Hollywood A++ list, while Jen's career appeared to heading for the '#2 for 3 films' basket in your local corner

However, on closer inspection the real problem would appear to be as follows.

Brad's chat up technique probably consists of:

Brad: Wanna fuck?
Woman: Yes.

Meanwhile, Jen's chat up technique probably consists of:

Jennifer: D'you think I'm thin enough?
Man: Yes.
Jennifer: Wanna fuck?
Man: Yes

Thus it's not wholly surprising that Brad should be consoling himself in the arms of deranged Playstation favourite Angelina Jolie. And by the law of probability, Jennifer Aniston will eventually make a good film, in which case she'll join the Hollywood A++ list too and start going out with Jude Law. Just to piss off Brad.

The problem here is not one of relationship difficulties but of limitless choice. Lots of people would love to sleep with Brad Pitt or Jennifer Aniston, but if you could also sleep with thousands more people who are as attractive than Brad or Jen, you'd probably have commitment problems too.

It's conceivable that one A-list shag after another could turn into a bit of treadmill, but we doubt it. What's remarkable is that Brad and Jen stayed together this long, not that they split up. Imagine if you were them. You'd probably be finding excuses to have arguments so you could storm out and shag another star just for the hell of it:

'These scrambled eggs are slightly under-done. I'm going out, and if I happen to fuck Colin Farrell, then so be it!'

'Fine! I'll give Uma Thurman a ring!'

What's even more remarkable is the limitless public appetite for interchangeable celebrity relationships. The lives of Brad and Jen and the rest of Hollywood are just too far removed from reality to be of any real interest to any ordinary person, except perhaps the doe-eyed ruminants whose lips unconsciously form words as they painstakingly read Heat from cover to cover.

Is Brad Pitt going out with Angelina Jolie? Who cares. We don't, at least not until we see photographic evidence of Brad in his underpants, slumped on a sofa, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and cans, sobbing at a rerun of Friends until his tears carve tiny rivers of sorrow into the congealed sick down his front...

Comment on this article: letters@thefridaything.co.uk

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