Mrs & Mrs. Zzzzzzzzzzz

Dear Brad and Angelina,
I know that the whole world thinks that your the sexiest couple on the planet and that everything you do is terribly fascinating. Although, Brad, I resent your need to grow your hair out and be pouty (i.e. Legends of the Fall and Troy)and pass it off as good acting. And, Angelina, your lips frankly scare me a bit. Along with your passionate feelings for your brother. But here I am on a lazy Thursday night and Mr. & Mrs. Smith just happens to be on HBO, so I'm watching.

I think this movie is supposed to be funny. Because assassins are funny. I have no idea what your characters' names are, but I'm finding that it's really irrelevant because this is really not so much a movie as it is a fictionalized documentary about you, Brad and Angelina, and how sexy and irresistible you find each other. (Oh, oh, here's the poignant moment when you can't bear to kill each other. Snooze.) I'm so bored by watching you alternately hit each other and make out. I hope you donated all the money you made from this movie to UNICEF. You sure didn't deserve it.

Kisses & Punches,
Ashley

P.S. I find it utterly disturbing that while you two were getting it on, Vince Vaughn was standing outside your trailer devising a plan to be the rebound man. I imagine you all standing at craft services...

Vince: So, Jen...?

Brad: Yeah, yeah, I'm done with that.

Vince: Do you mind if I...?

Brad: (Bagel with lox in hand) No, man. It's all you. I'm going to adopt Angie's kids and wear skull caps in Africa. Cheers, man.