Saint Jennifer and the Temptress Angelina

This COULD be a post about my beloved myths and archetypes.
Instead it is a modern day blogsulk over the demise of my once favourite read into nothing more than glossy tabloid press.

I wait each month for my Vanity Fair to arrive in the Post.
It is the day I take out my finest bath salts and immerse myself in the scented hot water with eager anticipation.
A good issue is two full tubs of water.
A mediocre issue one and a half.
This months promisingly thick issue was less than one.
Bah.

Woolcott writing on Porn star autobiographies as a buddying genre, Dunne on Safra AGAIN, and the cover dedicated to yet another actress almost naked. Does anyone ever take a stand on this and try wearing something shockingly non-risque? Oh Vanity Fair. All those trees died for what? Glorifying anorexic teenagers trying to sell coutre?

And the content that left me so very cool?

Flash back in time to the 90s when Angelina Jolie showed up at an awards ceremony with her brother. She was not shy about professing her love for him. It did not sound entirely wholesome. This was before her amazing run of successful films as a powerhouse action figurehead of a warrior woman. I remember a few catty comments about her lips. Collagen was not yet de rigeur.

Then there was Jennifer the spunky little pretty *Friend* with the hair everyone wanted. I am at a disadvantage on the topic of *Friends* since I did not get the show at all. I found it tiresome. Skinny women and dumdum men. Big woo.

Now for some reason these two women have the same taste in men. Possibly Angelina's taste is more about conquering men but still....
Miles of Tabloid press have focused international attention on this unsavoury situation.

I admired Jennifer Aniston's position not to talk about it in gorey detail. Little did I know she was just biding her time until her Cover story Vanity Fair piece came out.

OH Jen...
Did posing barely clothed make you feel better about yourself as a woman?

You were my role model for the best revenge being a good life.
Feet of clay. *sulk*

Angelina is a gorgeous powerful woman who clearly exercises an immense sexual attraction towards both men and women. She is a complicated person and hard to pin down on any topic not involving Good Works but she clearly knows herself well and uses her drives in her career choices.

Jen---
oh bah.
Throw the bum out and don't let him back.
So he is gone long gone and it is all so confusing.
Once they stray it tends to become a habit.
In a profession where promiscuity is as common as hairspray a happy marriage is mostly myth.
Why any day now we will be hearing Catherine Zeta-Jones has dumped her almost geriatric sex addict husband for someone less positioned for power and more positioned for....

Ok. Maybe not.
Cate the great loves power and married well.
Angelina doesn't marry them.
She just collects hearts and moves on.

What is this doing on my blog?
Oh bah I just read my Vanity fair.
I am so disappointed.
Might as well subscribe to the Enquirer.

-----










.......