Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, a Baby and Namibia

I for one think that a union between a man and a woman is the most beautiful thing in the world; and when the union results in baby, a bouncing little bundle of joy, well, even better. I also believe it is that union’s right, no- privilege, to travel to Namibia to have that baby delivered.

Of course I’m talking about Brangelina, the two-headed media monster formerly known as Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. Maybe you’re sitting at home in front of your computer; up to your elbow in a bucket of Briers low fat mint chocolate ice cream like me, and thinking, “Where is Namibia?” Namibia is in Southern Africa, bordering the South Atlantic Ocean, between Angola and South Africa (I knew that off that top of my head too, I didn’t have to Google it).

If you’ve been living in a cave for the past couple weeks, let me get you caught up. Brad Pitt dumped Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie dumped Billy Bob Thornton (actually, that might have happened a few years ago, I’m not sure). Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie sign on to make a movie called Mr. and Mrs. Smith (it is a fucking horrible movie). Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie fall in love (Jennifer Aniston is devastated, but she gets over it and starts banging Vince Vaughn). Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have sex (probably more than once, but one time for sure). Brangelina is born and the world learns that Jolie is pregnant; pregnant with the only baby powerful enough to destroy Tomkat’s Suri (this stuff seems more like horse breeding everyday).

And that brings us to Namibia. For some reason, the Namibians are way cool with the presence of Brangelina (and Brangelina, Jr.). Curiously enough, it seems that their government hates the paparazzi (either that, or they just really liked Mr. and Mrs. Smith). The people are psyched too. There’s seems to be a sentiment growing among the public to make the day that Angelina Jolie gives birth a national holiday. This seems a little extravagant to me, but I know very little about the Namibian people (maybe they do kooky shit like this all the time).

In one of the oddest news bits to come out of Namibia and wiggle across the Atlantic, is the accounts that the Namibian government has issued a decree to limit the amount of media vultures and photographers planning to come to the country and cover the birth. It now seems that any paparazzi jerk-off who wants in Namibia is going to need a permission slip signed by both Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. I think it’s great that the Namibian government is treating this event like a fourth grade field trip; I think more things ought to be treated as such.

Now, I’m not so naive as to think that the Brangelina juggernaut didn’t pay off somebody in the Namibian brass. Hell, maybe they even cured some local epidemic in one of the villages. What I’m trying to say is I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if a Brangelina statue was erected in the very near future; a Namibian Brangelina statue wouldn’t shock me at all.

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