Ohmigaaawd...

...like, did ya hear? Brad! Angelina! Baby!...

The big story on the national morning shows today seemed to be that Angelina Jolie is with child, and the fetus has Brad Pitt's genetic code written all over it.

Well, bless her little partially-lasered-off Billy Bob tattoos. You mean Angelina and Brad are really more than just friends?

If I cared any less...well, what is the smallest particle known to man? (Physics students or Stephen Hawking feel free to chime in here) Whatever that eensy-weensy particle is, I care less than that.

What is the fascination with Bradgelina (or whatever their hybrid name is)? I mean, Angelina was kinda interesting back in the good old days when she was wearing a vial of blood around her neck and making out with her brother on the red carpet.

But lately...yawn...all that adopting orphan nonsense...the earnest interviews...humanitarian photo ops...

And isn't it funny how one can get away with being semi-nuts if that one has a smokin' bod and lips with their own zip code?

The only difference between Angelina and your crazy aunt with the 20 cats is...ok...there are a lot of differences, but let's just say that if your crazy aunt looked like Jolie, she wouldn't have to resort to living with her felines who will eat her when she dies alone and unnoticed. She could be certifiable and still have a line of men waiting to explore her, um, eccentricities.

I won't even go into Brad. For reasons I can sum up with just one word: "Troy."