It looks like Brad Pitt had a few dozen swigs of what we call holy water at last night’s after-party for Inglourious Basterds in Berlin. Brad is making the exact same facial expression as Old Baby at the beginning of Benjamin Button. The Curious Case of German Beer!
OK! says that Brad didn’t leave the after-party until 2 in the morning. Oooooooh, St. Angie is going to git him for this! She’s going to punish him by making him sleep in the same room with her without his earplugs! That’s torture since her hypnotic vagina hums all of Stravinsky’s religious symphonies throughout the night. And it’s always off-key.
Brad probably thought she’d never find out, but GOD is always watching. No, seriously, I think St. Angie pays God under the table to check in on Brad when she’s not around.
I say let the old goat frolic through the drunk clouds every now and again. If I had a zillion screaming little deities at home, I’d be injecting liquid Percocet into my nipple holes every hour on the hour. So two (or twenty) beers is nothing.