SAINTS: They’re not just like us!
When you and your piece go to Red Lobster for a romantic surf, turf and Cheddar Bay Biscuits dinner, dozens of your adoring fans are not waiting for you outside to take your picture, shake your hand and breathe in the blessed air you breathe out.
When St. Angie Jolie and Brad Pitt go to Shipwreck Bar and Grill in Airlie Beach, Queensland, their devoted disciples wait for them to arrive and cheer for them like it’s a goddamn red carpet premiere or some shit.
St. Angie is still directing that Unbroken movie in Australia and on Tuesday night she and Brad Pitt left the child army at home to eat seafood at a restaurant. (Well, he ate seafood and she sniffed the fish bones and licked on a bowl of popped fish eyeballs.) Worshipers of the Australian branch of the Church of Brangelina must’ve followed the beam of light from St. Angie’s halo to the Shipwreck Bar and Grill, because they were there when St. Angie and Brad arrived. St. Angie and Brad shook hands and waved at their fans. The last time I saw a Sméagol stretch his arm out like that, he was reaching for the One Ring and it wasn’t a pretty scene. But this time, a saintly Sméagol reached out her arm to bless a young child. When St. Angie (aka the real Supreme) touched that girl’s hand, she sucked out that girl’s youth and innocence and stored it in her signature forehead vein. That girl doesn’t care, because she was touched by true holy greatness.