George Clooney Is Totally Over Stacy Keibler

Above is George Clooney making the same “Take your final bow, ho, because the curtain’s coming down” pose he will make when he officially dumps Stacy Keibler any day now. Last month, George Clooney’s rep let out a bunch of no no nos on the rumor that a bunch of workers barged into Stacy’s bedroom at his Italian villa, picked her up, threw her into one of those portable moving PODS and shipped her ass back to Los Angeles. But George’s rep could’ve just been pulling our dicks (which would be SHOCKING since publicists never do that), because the NYDN says that Stacy is just days away from waking up to find a pink slip on the pillow next to her.

A source type says that Stacy still shows up to events, but she keeps her lips shut about all things Clooney and she constantly checks her phone to see if he’s texted or called her. Stacy’s got the nervous shakes most bitches get when they know they’re about to get dumped. The source put it like this:

“They’re barely talking. She is worried that he may break up with her any day now. George is being really distant and pulling away from her. She wakes up every morning and doesn’t know what’s going to happen.”

Now I know how a carton of milk feels when I open up the refrigerator door and peek at its expiration date.

Stacy should’ve seen this coming. Just a few weeks ago she was trying on engagement rings. ENGAGEMENT RINGS! Nothing breaks George Clooney’s boner like the m word, engagement rings and going straight to voicemail when he calls his soulmate Brad Pitt. When you’re humping on George Clooney full-time and you do anything wedding related, you should know that on the next Friday morning (they always fire you on a Friday morning), you’ll be called into his office manager’s cubicle and told that it’s just not working out. You’ll have to hand over the copy of the key he gave you to his dildo closet and you’ll be given a fair severance package before the office manager hands you a Kleenex, because your chocha will cry thinking about how the next dick it touches might belong to Steve-O.