Don’t step to me, Brad Pitt!

So, I’m standing in the checkout line at the supermarket,( ah,er, I’d given the staff the weekend off) and lo and behold, who should be on the cover of my two favorite gossip magazines (though it is hard for me to pick my favorites), Brad, Angie and Jen. And Jen’s crying. AGAIN. Angie’s got this smirk on her face like she’s happy poor Jen’s sad. Though obviously, and poorly, photo shopped together, the message is clear: Angie’s a cold-hearted bitch.
What struck me about this common weekly occurrence was how pretty Jen looked crying. Some women just look beautiful in tears; big, sad doe-eyes, pouty red lips, and just the set of the jaw and cheekbones all come together giving a beautiful, yet completely different look to their face. Some just get all blotchy, and their nose runs, and, well, it just makes a man sad to see that, but if you’re beautiful when you cry, your man just may be breaking your heart so he can see you that way.
I’m kidding, ladies. We’re just idiots.
Although, I used to have a girlfriend who looked good when she cried so I was constantly helping her look beautiful. Poets are all about the beauty, you know. She got so used to it I started having trouble getting her to cry. I finally took tweezers to bed and pulled out a nose hair while she slept. She was pretty when she was angry too. Good times. The woman I’m seeing now is pretty when she smiles and her laugh makes the angels weep for their meager song. I like to mix it up; sometimes people crying, sometimes angels.
Is it possible that the reason some women cry so easily is to show-off? Do they know they look good that way? Just a thought, but I wonder if Jen knows she looks good sad and this whole triangle is just a ruse to get on the front of magazines, “looking good.” That would be pretty calculating, as calculating as Angie’s smile. If the weeping is real, that’s just sad in a different way.
All this weeping over funky Brad Pitt? Don’t get me wrong, I like most of the movies he’s in, he picks good projects, seems like a regular guy, plays poker, has that charity project in New Orleans that he didn’t have to do (which I admire), rich, good looking and all that, but SO WHAT! He doesn’t give closure in relationships and I do. When it’s over, nobody ever wants to see me again, so I got that going for me. He reads words, I WRITE words, which is more important, really? Ever read one of Pitt’s sonnets? The half-rhymes are pathetic and his meter would be laughable if it wasn’t so tragic. Come on ladies, stop being so superficial, you expect men not to be. Dig deeper, really deep, deep as you can and you will find poets are where it’s at. We’ll make you beautiful.
Whatever it takes.
(ps for Brad; Let me know when you need those tweezers but you only get to use them once.)