
There's wayyy too much Brad Pitt going around Cannes these days as he parties with Quentin Tarantino, tells people to give the love-triangle stuff a rest, and promotes the grossly-titled 'Inglourious Basterds' which, did this choice in spelling come after a series of trollings for the worst spelling on the internet? Rediculous.
Despite tabloids claiming that Pitt's been making secret late-night calls to Jennifer Aniston, he and Angelina seemed pretty pumped to see each other when she joined him in Cannes, where the two made out and stuff. Seriously, Brad Pitt is not sixteen. He is most likely not two-timing Jolie or having silly spats with her, considering they have eighteen thousand kids together and, although Angie is a nutter, seem pretty happy. She was flashing some BONY leg, though, let it be said. Eat something, chica.
As usual, everyone who was touched by the couple's magic then immediately sold/related their religious experiences to the nearest curious news source, delighting in how absolutely smashingly nice and beautiful the two are. They're like human forms of ecstasy pills, for real. They touch people and then the people are like oh my god I can see the truth and beauty in this world! My hands have colors streaming from them!
As a non-Tarantino fan, I couldn't care less about this movie and wish people would start making more World War I movies or something, WWII is SOOOO over-exposed.