Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie really care about the down-trodden masses. That's why, instead of spending Christmas Day exchanging outrageously expensive gifts, getting hammered and having wild, steamy sex in the laundry-room while the nanny watched the kids, they donated their time, and more importantly their beatific presences, to the unwashed and shoeless children in a Costa Rican refugee camp.
"We had a wonderful Christmas both with the Costa Rican people and the Colombian refugee families we met," said Angelina in a statement. "The conflict in Colombia is the greatest humanitarian tragedy in the Western Hemisphere, but it receives very little international attention."
To which Brad added, "Yeah."
Hanging out with a bunch of smelly, lice-ridden war refugees during Christmas - not exactly Crabbie's idea of a great time. Of course, it probably beats hanging out with your own loser family. Especially when that family is nothing but a bunch of wine-bottles you've taped construction-paper faces to and lined up on the coffee table.
"Stop looking at me like that Aunt Zinfandel. Jesus, you've known I was gay since I was twelve and you caught me playing pull-the-weenie with my friend Timmy under the basement stairs. And what's the fucking deal with you Uncle Cabernet Sauvignon? You disappear for fifteen years, then show up one day saying you're the king of a tribe of Amazonian headhunters, and you need to borrow five-thousand bucks so you can buy them all new blow-guns? Why don't they make their own blow-guns? They're fucking Amazonian headhunters. They've been making blow-guns for two-thousand years. Did they forget how or something? Jesus, you didn't sell them some of that home-made gin of yours, did you? Oh Christ. Now they're blind and can't remember how to make blow-guns. You stupid old fool. Now I know why my mother never spoke to you."
"Yeah, that's true. She never spoke to me either. God damn bitch."
