That damn St. Angie is all over the Internet today. Everywhere I go, there’s Angie. I go to NoAngelinaJoliesAllowed.org and that bitch is there. She’s everywhere. There she is walking around in a dress the color of the shit that does not come out of her ass. There she is daring her period to come while escorting Ms. Pitt around like a trophy. And here’s Angie getting swallowed by the black (Note: “Angie getting swallowed by the black” is going to be big on Google keywords this week, so I’m trying to get ahead of the trend) in the pages of Newsweek.
Angie is doing all of this to sell the shit out of that In the Land of Blood and Honey movie. She’s flaunting it everywhere and I’m still not going to see it. Sorry. I wouldn’t even see it if she renamed it In the Land of Nuttin’ Honey and re-worked the plot to be about a couple going through a painful divorce because one of them answers “Nuttin’ honey” to every single question the other one asks. Okay, I’d watch it then and only then.
St. Angie isn’t only all over the Internet, she’s all over TV too. Angie was on Nightline and they asked her if she was going to ever marry Brad Pitt. Obviously, the journalists on Nightline are serious journalists and only ask thought-provoking questions that nobody has ever asked before. Angie answered:
“The kids asked me the other day and I asked them if it was just because they wanted to have a ‘big cake.’ They see movies that have the people getting married in the movies or somebody’s, you know, the happily ever after. Shrek and Fiona are married. We’ve explained to them that our commitment when we decided to start a family was the greatest commitment you could possibly have. Once you have six children, you’re committed.”
I think what she really meant is that once you have six children, you should be committed because you’re absolutely nuts to have all those screamers around.
You know, I believe that you should always be honest with children. If anyone can take honesty, it’s children. That is why it was wrong for Angie to blow smoke up their asses with that “blah blah blah greatest commitment blah blah” bullshit. Angie should’ve sat them all around and honestly said, “Mind your own fucking businesses, will you? Why make the cow sign a prenup when you can screw the milk for free, or however the saying goes. Now go get mama her liquid medicine and then lock yourselves up in your bedrooms. SCAT!” Now, that would’ve been honest.