I sort of shrugged and let out a “meh” yesterday when The Sunday People said that George Clooney had laid off his current red carpet ho, because whenever there’s a rumor that he and Stacy Keibler are done, they magically appear hand-in-hand in front of a pap’s camera. But the voice of the publicist, People, is saying that after one contract extension, George has decided to not renew Stacy’s contract again.
People’s source says that Stacy’s actually the one who ended things, because she (brace yourself for the shock of your life) wants to be (insert the word that George is allergic to here) with chirruns and knows that his idea of being a father is bong-feeding his little brother Brad Pitt while cradling him in his arms. People’s source put it like this:
“Stacy called it quits. She wants to have children and a family someday. She knows where George stands on that. They talked and they quietly stopped being a couple several weeks ago. They talk every day. They were friends before they started dating and they’ll be friends after. It was a friendly [breakup].”
My Sunday night ended the way all my Sunday nights end: I drunkenly passed out on my bed while watching HGTV as my chihuahua lay next to me, farting himself to sleep because he ate all the cookie crumbs that were on my shirt. So George Clooney’s relationships are just like my Sunday nights. They ALWAYS end the same. At least we can never accuse George’s ass of being unpredictable.
Stacy should be proud of herself. She had a record-breaking run and achieved the impossible. When everybody said that she wouldn’t last more than one award season, she did it! When everybody said that George Clooney would never keep one of his leased pieces around for two years, she proved them wrong! She achieved! She’s like the Martin Luther King Jr. of Clooney hos.