August 21, 2004
Stayed home today and worked until around four. Watched a half of USA Olympic basketball just to see for myself what the problem is. Well, I’ll tell you what the damn problem is: the rest of the world caught up to us, that’s what. We don’t own the game anymore. It’s gone international and frankly, it’s a breath of fresh air. I really dislike the American sports fans who want and expect us to annihilate everybody like we did in 1992. That is so boring and lame. I really enjoyed what I saw. I like good basketball, not blowouts.

I’ve had so many requests to report what Allen Barra thought of Angelina Jolie I finally asked him if I could print something. Here it is, word for word, although I had to edit it slightly because we have a few youngsters who read this:

My Impressions from Ninety Minutes with Angelina Jolie
By Allen Barra

Gorgeous olive-like complexion, cat-like eyes that are very nearly as impressive as her lips—completely real, by the way, as anyone who's seen a photo of her at age 11 can plainly see. A swan-like neck with a lustrous, rich, dark brown swirl of hair curled around it. Arms chiseled from marble with sleeves cut just high enough to reveal the tattoo. A rack that is as impressive as it is real, as anyone who has seen the just- released unrated version of Taking Lives can testify. Her only real physical flaw are calves and ankles that are simply too thin.

She is incredibly not snooty. She seems to be what she is: a nerd—a dork—in the body of a goddess. By goddess, I don’t mean in any traditional sense; she seems to have created herself out of her own mythology. She is utterly unfeminine in her manners and gestures. She seems to go straight to female without ever stopping at anyone’s conception of feminine, and by female, I mean ultra, ubra female. Ultra female, with a very strong dash of tomboy (most endearing is her habit of standing in front of you with her thumbs hooked in her belt or her pockets).

What other major actress shows up at comic book conventions to spend hours autographing Tomb Raider posters for game geeks? Who else blows off movie deals to spend days piling mud bricks on a house foundation in Cambodia? Who else shows up alone on Oscar night in a white silk halter gown – shoulders bare, back bare, nipples severely outlined – and leaves early to go home to her adopted son?

She has a vocabulary that would make a Greek sailor blush and does a devastating impression of her co-star, Colin Ferrell, whom she adamantly denies having [bedded]. She also denies having [bedded] Val Kilmer, whom she likes very much (and who said "She's so gorgeous … even the camels looked at her funny”), or Brad Pitt -- do not mention Brad Pitt rumors. She insists "I'll [bed] a horse if I am so inclined, but I draw the line at married men. Why would I lie?"

When told that her name sounds like a French song, she lowers the lashed and murmurs softly, “That was sweet.”

Thanks Allen. Now that’s a word picture.

“Great design will not sell an inferior product, but it will enable a great product to achieve its maximum potential.”
—Thomas Watson Jr.o