Even though most Hollywood marriages are as disposable as the new Cottonelle wipes, and most celebs are so boring and predictable they're not worth following, for some reason I care that Brad Pitt broke his vows to Jennifer Aniston.

She's got it all -- sweet, talented, wealthy and beautiful -- but it's still sad to see someone face that sort of public humiliation. Can it really be true that Brad and Angelina Jolie made so much noise in an African hotel room that someone called security? Yikes! Imagine that in the paper about your spouse.

But was anyone surprised? And not just because he did that interview awhile back where he said marriage wasn't supposed to be permanent. (Um, Jennifer ... when your man says that, he's looking to tap more than his acting talent.)

The trouble was, both of them were just too smokin' hot.

She's America's sweetheart. Honestly, there's no way to improve upon her. She's just so cute, telling Vanity Fair "I choose to believe my husband" when asked about the possibility of his cheating. Awwwww.

And then there's Brad. A little skinny at the start of his career, sure, but he filled out nicely. By "Troy," I didn't even care that the acting was bad or that, while Greeks were a dominant world power in science and philosophy, they weren't able to invent underwear.

He's just absolutely perfect, the male version of Jennifer.

Therein lies the problem. They just couldn't appreciate what they had in each other. Hear me now, believe me later, the same exact thing will happen to Angelina in a couple years.

On the other hand, say Brad were to meet me somewhere. Oh, I don't know. Maybe that Lake Havasu, Ariz., IHOP he and the tramp stopped at for breakfast. That seems like the kind of place I'd be.

No, I'm not classically beautiful like Jennifer Aniston. Yes, I have several (hundred) pounds to lose. My hair is in a transitional period right now. And, when I had my eyebrows waxed at the Asian salon last week, the cosmetologist said, "You want lip, too?"

But I've got my own thing going, sort of a hidden beauty. Like an onion. Peel back the layers, and you've got ... French onion soup. Or that Bloomin' Onion at Outback.

Bad analogy.

The point is, Brad and I are both from Missouri. He was in the journalism program at the University of Missouri for a while, and I am a journalist. One of the first stories I did for the Southeast Missourian was about the college friends he left behind for his acting career -- he quit school just a few credits shy of a degree. (Note to Mizzou: If you decide to give Brad that honorary doctorate he so richly deserves -- or even just an honorary bachelor's -- save me a seat at the ceremony.)

Jennifer was too busy with her career and keeping her figure to give him children, right? Hey ... I'd drop my career right now and start pumping out the kids, plus I've got no figure left to protect. Brad, you don't need all those foreign babies Angelina keeps picking up. Make your own!

In short, I'd appreciate what I had and give Brad all the attention he so richly deserves. Plus there's my sense of humor and je ne sais quoi. (I actually don't know what.)

And what to do with Jennifer? Well, have I told you about my husband ...

Heidi Hall is a former managing editor for the Southeast Missourian. She resides in St. Petersburg, Fla.