Finally, a tabloid out there has given us a real Brangelina story to care about. The National Enquirer (via Celebitchy) can take the rest of the month off and alert the Pulitzer Prize committee to stop the search for this year’s winners, because nothing will top this. The final nail in Brangie’s coffin isn’t going to be made of the spit from the 187th baby she adopts. No, it’s going to be made of Brad Pitt’s artichoke farts. Farts will tear us apart!
A source (aka Jennifer Aniston’s cat nanny with a voice box) claims that Brad Pitt’s new thing is marinating artichokes into vodka for an evening martini (fartini, is more like it). Apparently, the artichokes summon a little rumble down below which causes his butt to burp like a newborn baby. Brad’s caca clouds are not only ripping his panties apart, but they are also ripping apart Angie’s sanity. The source went on to say “Brad gets some nasty gas from consuming so many artichokes, and it’s driving poor Angelina crazy. It’s gotten so bad that Angie sometimes sleeps in a separate bedroom!”
Who knew that Brad Pitt actually farts. And who also knew that St. Angie’s holy nostrils don’t filter out anything that smells stank. This is an education in so many ways.
And you know he dutch ovens her….