Angelina Jolie’s Twelth Man
THE interview with Angelina Jolie promises to be “EXPLOSIVE”.
Jolie, sex bomb, is in conversation about “her pregnancy, moving back to England and eating crickets with Brad”.
It’s clear that if Angelina and Brad are to settle in England and make the place their permanent home, they need not only to adopt a few domestic Oliver Twists but gain a grasp on the local sporting culture.
Cricket is not eating but for playing. If English cricket were a foodstuff it would surely be a stodgy humble pie chucked in the general direction of Brisbane.
And unlike the England cricket team, Angelina says that “nothing is really going to rattle me”. Not Shane Warne’s flipper. Not Glenn McGrath’s line and length. Not 100,000 Australians waving inflatable kangaroos. Not Rolf Harris singing “Now the fascinating witches who put the scintilating stiches in the britches of the boys who put the powder on the noses on the faces of the ladies of the harem of the court of King Catactacus, were just passing by”.
But Angelina might not ever live in England. Though she says her adopted son Maddox “screams for Liverpool”, Jolie says she and Brad no longer have their home in Buckinghamshire. But they are thinking of moving to Europe.
Europe has never really taken to cricket. But Maddox has. Angelina tells us how she took Maddox for his first cricket. He liked it so much eh at an entire plateful. And did Angelina take up the challenge? “Yes,” says she, “I tried them too…It was great.”
But not as great as marriage, which Angelina as tried twice, double her history with crickets. On marriage, Angelina says: “I’ve tried it twice before and it’s lovely but Brad and I haven’t felt the need to do it.”
In any case, Angelina is busy with her family. And she is looking for a home for them. And that can often mean a hotel.
Do the Jolie-Pitts stay in five-star hotels when visiting poor countries? “Sadly we have to when we have paparazzi following us,” says Angelina.
Fair enough. Door staff, security and so on. But might the paparazzi be turned off by venturing into the country’s remote interior, to wait knee–deep for that picture in swamp water, lenses and faces pebbled-dashed by flying insects?
“We did stay in a one-room shack in the middle of the Cambodian jungle,” says Angelina (no pictures available), because nobody else was there. But when you have kids, especially a six month-old baby, your need clean water and salad for them. Realistically, it’s easier to stay in a hotel.”
Silly not to. Or silly mid on, as Angelina might say…
Posted: 21st, January 2007 | In: Reviews Comment | TrackBack | Permalink
