The Daily Mirror says Brangie’s holy child army will have a budget they need to stick to during their hourly visits to the goddamn toy store, because St. Angie Jolie dropped a huge chunk of cash on a very special birthday present for Brad Pitt. Normal hos buy their a piece a bottle of butt lube (in scent: new car smell) for their birthday, but millionaire saints buy their piece a whole damn island.
The Mirror says that St. Angie bought the 11-acre Petra Island, which is about 50 miles off the coast of NYC. The name “Frank Lloyd Wright” makes Brad Pitt squirt and get all fangirly, so she pulled out $20 million from her pocket book when she found out that the island has two Lloyd Wrights on it. One house was built in 1950 and the main house was built in 2008 from one of Lloyd Wright’s plans. Some source said:
“As soon as Angelina heard the island was on the market she arranged a viewing. She was really impressed. The house is perfect for romantic getaways or as a family retreat. It’s very private. And Angelina knows the fact the island is in the shape of a heart will mean so much to him. The fact he could now live in a house designed by one of his idols will make this his best birthday present ever.”
But the daughter of the current owners tell E! that Petra Island isn’t going to become Brangelina Island anytime soon, because St. Angie didn’t buy it and it’s still for sale.
If St. Angie did buy that island, I see what she’s doing. They already have a compound in Los Angeles, a vineyard in France and now they might have their eyes on a huge island in New York. It’s obvious what’s going on here. They’re setting up camps and bases around the world for when the child army expands and finally takes over. It’s a good thing that Petra Island wouldn’t last that long if St. Angie did buy it for Brad. Because as soon as he sees it from above and realizes that it kind of looks like a giant floating weed bud, he’s going to smoke the entire thing up one tree leaf at a time.
In case you didn’t know that Vivienne Jolie-Pitt, a child saint, can work a pair of sunglasses better than all of us, adults (HAHA, I know that was a good one, me calling us adults), here’s Vivienne Jolie-Pitt working a pair of sunglasses better than all of us. Even that plastic ginger Muppet thing looks impressed at her effortless J. Crew catalog posing skills.
St. Angie took a break from directing her movie Unbroken while dressed like a secretary at Robichaux Academy to take the chosen ones to buys toys and watch them eat at a restaurant in Sydney called Grandpa’s Moustache (which sounds like a To Catch A Predator-themed restaurant or like a boy band full of pepaws) yesterday. I swear, the holy family is single-handedly saving the toy industry! They buy toys as often as Rob Ford buys crack. Every time they leave the house, they go to a toy store, scream “I’ll take EVERYTHING” while throwing down a bag of gold and then they go home and play with all their new toys for about five seconds before getting bored and giving their used toys to Brad Pitt to smoke up.
Allison wrote about how Christmas is probably going to be canceled this year since there’s no “it toy.” Well, since one of the chosen ones was papped carrying a doll in a white tank top, that doll in a tank top IS the it toy of the season. Vivi Jolie-Pitt saved Christmas! And if you’re keeping track of the adventures of St. Angie’s bulging forehead vein of doom, take note that it picked up and moved to the west side of her forehead for Australian Spring.
Apparently, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are too busy being stellar human beings to really clue into the backlash of kids following in their actor parents’ footsteps, because Radar is reporting that Maddox Jolie-Pitt may star in a film adaptation of the comic Battling Boy, even though they shot down rumors a few years ago about the same project.
Someone needs to take the time to run all over hell’s half acre to collect the Jolie-Pitts from the four corners of the Earth, sit them down down and tell them the Smith family has effectively gathered up our patience for parent-led stardom, tied it to an Acme rocket and launched it out of the universe. Arguably, there may have been some success with Jaden but if you throw Willow into the mix, he’s pretty much been the Bill Murray to her Chris Elliot if nepotism was the auction in Groundhog Day. Plus, he ended up with a Kardashian which is negative points, right?
Even though Brad has had reservations in the past about putting the child army in movies, that hasn’t stopped Maddox from getting shot in the head in World War Z or Vivienne’s Little House on the Prairie 2.0 run in Maleficent. If they’re going to let any of their kids go into acting, I’m hoping they write a movie for Shiloh called Montenegro Style so once and for all, I can figure out what the fuck that even means.
The article also said that Brad and Maddox’s influence is reflected in the comic, down to some panels where the character’s expression matches some of Mad’s “signature facial expressions”. He’ 12. Don’t all kids that age have the same facial expressions because they hate every fucking thing everybody says and does? Maybe they’re referring to the silent look of terror Maddox gets in his eyes when he sees his mom thumbing through the newest Orphans R Us catalog.
Here’s your sobering thought of the day: it’s been over a decade since Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton adopted Maddox from Cambodia. Did we just all stare hopelessly out the window thinking ‘Oh god, what have I done with my life??‘ at the same time, like the mice in An American Tail? I think we did.
It feels like just yesterday Maddox was holding his mother’s hand as he exited toy stores all over the world (that’s all those kids seem to do, enter and exit toy stores), but that patchy teen ‘stache is proof that our little baby is all grown up. Teen Time Maddox is giving me serious Joseph Gribble vibes, and I’ll be honest; it’s working. I think 12-year-old me just tried to become science class partners with him (“Sorry Allison…I..uh…think I already have a partner…um…“). That teen ‘stache gives me comfort knowing that no matter how insanely rich and famous your family is, no one is exempt from their embarrassing, awkward pre-teen years. Maddox’s life right now is probably a never-ending cycle of Angie busting into his bedroom with a basket of clean laundry, and frantically trying to close his laptop as he screams: “Mom! Learn to knock, why don’t you?!?”
Maddox and Brad Pitt were on hand as Saint Angie received an honorary Oscar for her humanitarian work last night at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences’ Governors Awards in Hollywood. Maddox looks adorable (that tiny tux!), Angie is bringing classic Angie (“Come! Kneel before me and bask in the light of my soul. 5 minutes should be enough to give you a good base tan”) so let’s talk Brad. His tight hair game and the disappearance of that raggedy Urban Outfitters scarf has me singing Guess who’s back/back again/hot Brad’s back/tell a friend. Let’s hope it lasts. Spoiler alert: it won’t. That scraggly beard imprinted on him a long time ago.
Here’s more of America’s most perfect family (I’m still not completely convinced they’re not a set of The Heart Family dolls that came to life one night) last night in Hollywood.
(Pics via Splash)
All the Academy members who are eligible to nominate in the acting categories are making a mental note to write on their ballots, “Best Butterfly-Chasing Performance By A Chosen One In A Trailer – Vivi Jolie-Pitt,” after watching the humanized sliver of the sun that is Vivienne Jolie-Pitt frolic in the Maleficent trailer.
Yesterday, Disney released the poster for that movie about a demonic fairy who puts an evil Ambien curse on the royal baby after the kid’s rude ass parents don’t send her an Evite to the royal christening. (“Hmm, that’s giving me an idea,” said a scorned Duchess Fergie) Today, Disney released the trailer which is about 99% CGI fuckery and the rest of it is Elle Fanning and St. Angie Jolie trying to do what I think is supposed to be a British accent.
Based on the synopsis that Disney released, they’ve erased that whole “christening invitation revenge” thing and will focus on how Maleficent went from an innocent young girl to an ice-hearted evil fairy. How very Oz of them. I don’t want to see Maleficent’s stupid backstory! I just want to see two hours of her destroying the souls of men, making grown people cry, cutting bitches with her razor sharp cheekbones and pouncing on children from the darkness. Wait, I think I just admitted to wanting to see an Angelina Jolie biopic.
Maleficent comes out next May. And next Halloween, out will come millions of messes dressed up like a slutty Maleficent. Malefislut!
Here’s a white fairy who can turn into a fire-breathing demonic dragon if you fuck with her playing a white fairy who can turn into a fire-breathing demonic dragon if you fuck with her.
I know that when it comes to movie posters about fantasy shit the rule is the same rule Mariah Carey tells the minions making her album covers: PHOTOSHOP IT UNTIL YOUR FINGERS BLEED AND YOUR NAILS FALL OFF, DAHLINGS! But that face doesn’t look like the face of St. Angie Jolie. That’s probably the point. It looks like a vacuum-sealed Madonna wearing the green contacts my goth cousin bought on clearance at Sally’s Beauty and Loki horns made with Hefty bags. You know the tip of that horn has tickled Brad Pitt’s b-hole once or twice before. And I know St. Angie is the moon, the stars and God’s inspiration, but she should lose her sainthood and be thrown into a prison cell forever if she fucks up Maleficent.
Every now and again we need to be reminded that it’s only a matter of time before our pit hairs turn grey, we’ll have to take out dentures out before oral and our doctor will recommended that we cut all our weed with crushed up Centrum Silver vitamins. We’re all speeding towards the “get afternoon drunk while watching HSN” (shit, I do that now) phase of our lives and now here’s another reminder of that in the form of an all grown up Maddox being a regular angsty-faced 12-year-old while struttin’ through LAX with St. Angie Jolie yesterday. I bet he doesn’t even crank Aniston anymore and I really doubt he sends her unmarked packages with the mutilated carcasses of Beanie Babies inside, because he’s way too cool for that now and totally over it. End of an era! (Side note: I went to the animal park with my pre-teen-ish cousins last weekend and so I spent a lot of quality time with the OVER EVERYTHING face. One thing I learned is that the easiest way to deal with the OVER EVERYTHING face is to drink as much beer as possible. Beer really is the Dr. Bronners of my soul.)
And when I opened these pictures, St. Angie’s holy nipple knobs scratched up my screen and strangely enough, the scratches formed the image of Jesus.
The entire atmosphere nearly exploded due to massive amounts of awkward tension on Sunday when Jennifer Aniston and St. Angie Jolie ALMOST got on the same exact British Airways flight from LAX to London. The flight attendant who worked First Class on that flight is hating life, because think of all the coins they could’ve made from the blurry cell phone video of St. Angie throwing soul-killing glares at Aniston as Aniston swallows her 12th mini bottle of tequila whole while Googling to see if the hemp tea bags she brought with her are smokeable.
E! News says someone at British Airways told Jennifer Aniston’s people that St. Angie was booked in First Class on the same flight to Heathrow as her. Aniston’s people immediately moved her to a flight on Monday. Yeah, so St. Angie took her man and then took her flight eight years later! Shameless ass hussy whore! E! also says that when Brad and Jennifer were still together, they used to stay at this one fancy hotel in London all the time. Both of them got the hotel in the divorce and Brad still stays there with St. Angie whenever they’re in London as does Jennifer. This time around, both St. Angie and Jennifer chose to stay at a different hotel. So that obviously means they didn’t want to run into each other at the ice machine down the hallway.
Google Images tells me that a First Class seat on British Airways is bigger than a Manhattan studio apartment and more private than most dorm rooms, so I doubt these two would’ve even seen each other. And even if they did, they probably wouldn’t give a shit. But you know, since Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt are slowly morphing into the same physical body and almost look exactly the same, St. Angie wouldn’t have been able to control her urges and she would’ve pounced on Jennifer. Then the two would’ve scissored in the lavatory. That’s all.
Here’s Jen strolling through LAX on Monday. Those rolled pants and sneakers are killing me not-so-softly.
Here’s St. Angie Jolie, Pax, a purple bear, Vivienne, Knox and a mutated bong full of hair grease strolling through Haneda International Airport in Tokyo today. They’re all there for the Japanese premiere of World War Z. Maddox, Shiloh and Zahara didn’t come along, because they have better things to do like defend the family iPad against thieves.
1. Is Brad Pitt’s crotch area droopy because his peen barfed out a huge load of grease or is that where he hides his stash?
2. Do you think St. Angie’s pants were originally used as grasshopper antenna covers, because I did not know it was possible to make pants that small for adult humans.
3. And more importantly, am I the only who’s getting the full-body puckers from looking at that giant tanned bodyguard with a pink JanSport? Everybody please move ALL the way to the left, because I need to see more of that pink backpack-carrying orange Hulk.
Melissa Etheridge became Brangeloonie enemy #1 yesterday when she threw ice cold shade at St. Angie Jolie by saying that getting a double mastectomy to dodge cancer is not brave and is the most fearful choice you can make. Melissa said that she thinks you can keep the cancer gene button switched to off if you just sip some chamomile tea while getting a foot rub as Enya plays in the background. That comment turned Jenny McCarthy into a full-fledged, clit-slurping lesbian and she’s coming to Melissa’s window right now, because she’s in love.
At last night’s NYC premiere of World War Z, Extra told Brad Pitt what Melissa said and then asked for his thoughts. As the Brangeloonies attacked Melissa the same way the zombies attack him in that World War Z mess, Brad said this:
“Oh, I didn’t know, I haven’t seen her… Melissa is an old friend of mine, so I’ll have to give her a call.”
Oh, Brad’s just taking the high road and by that I mean he was so damn high at that moment that he couldn’t fully process that question and he doesn’t want to kill his high from trying to process that shit.
And strangely enough, here’s Brad looking like a Botoxed, bronzer-covered Melissa Etheridge with a goatee at last night’s premiere. It’s time for Brad Pitt to cut off that dirty mop of grease. He can donate it to Locks For Stoners since his hair is basically 99% THC.