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Jennifer Aniston 75 Years After Brad: A Look Back

May 30, 2010

You know those things that you literally never think are going to stop being a part of your life?  Like fashion magazines.  I’ve been reading them for over 10 years, without losing interest or transitioning to Scientific American.  After all that time, I figured they were like Diet Coke, and I would never be able to get off them.  But in the last three years, I’ve actually begun to tire of reading questions like, “Can I use the same lotion on my neck that I use on my face?” or articles about grape diets and resorts I can’t even afford to get to much less stay at.  And then I got to wondering why they simply cannot put an even semi-interesting person on the cover to interview.  I mean they can be pretty too, that’s fine, and really with Photoshop anyone can look like a part-time catalog model.  It’s just like how many times can you interview Jennifer Aniston?  She’s probably a lovely person, and her skin does glow like a fastidiously buffed fork, but she’s going to be 80 and we’ll still be seeing headlines like, “Jennifer Aniston 75 years after Brad: A Look Back.”  By this time I’m sure she’s stopped even asking herself questions like, “Is it better to have loved and lost Brad Pitt, than to never have loved Brad Pitt at all?”  Because never having met Brad Pitt would probably be preferable to having your entire life defined by your divorce from Brad Pitt, yes that’s a powerful statement to make, but I think she would have to agree.  It’s like even the almost unbelievable tautness of her beautiful skin hasn’t been able to shift the attention away from the fact that she used to hangout with Brad Pitt a lot and now doesn’t get to hardly ever!  And it’s like why even have skin that taut if no one cares or write headlines about it or tries to put you in a good movie for it?  These are important issues, maybe not the oil spill in the Gulf, but big stuff.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Kent McMillan permalink
    May 30, 2010 11:06 pm

    Well, one reader has to wonder if anyone is entitled to have a life that matters – aside from celebrities, of course. Think of the Jennifer Annistons as gigantic boxes of baking soda left open among the food to pull those stray molecules of scent and flavor into an unbearable whiteness of being.

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