Vivienne Jolie-Pitt Had To Be In Maleficent Because She Was The Only Kid Who Wasn’t Scared Of St. Angie’s Ass
At the Oscars next year, Jared Leto will stroll out onto the stage, flip his luscious mane and he won’t have to open the envelope to announce the winner of Best Supporting Actress, because he’ll know and we’ll all know it will be Vivienne Jolie-Pitt. She’ll crawl onto the stage, burp, scratch her head and drag her trophy away while everyone gives her a standing ovation and loses their minds. And Vivi didn’t even have to try to get that role. All she had to do was be born out of the right chocha and not scream for her Godfather (who is actually God) when seeing her mom in full costume.
In Entertainment Weekly’s cover story about Maleficent, St. Angie Jolie says that one of the chosen ones had to play Young Aurora, because all of the little girls they auditioned ran away after seeing her looking like the evil ghost of a malnourished ram. Even Pax wanted to hold a crucifix up to her when he saw her:
“When Pax saw me for the first time, he ran away and got upset — and I thought he was kidding, so I was pretending to chase him until I actually found him crying. I had to take off pieces [of the makeup] in front of him to show him it was all fake and not freak out so much.
We think it’s fun for our kids to have cameos and join us on set, but not to be actors. That’s not our goal for Brad and I at all. But the other 3- and 4-year-old [performers] wouldn’t come near me. It had to be a child that liked me and wasn’t afraid of my horns and my eyes and my claws. So it had to be Viv.”
In the wise words of The Mighty O, let’s cut the bullshit, St. Angie. There are many 3-year-olds who will run toward St. Angie, because they’d want her ass to adopt them so they can shop at every toy store in the damn world, eat McDonald’s all the time and inhale the weed-induced breath that comes out of Brad Pitt’s mouth. St. Angie made the producers cast Vivi, because she wanted the extra check (not really). Dragging 10,000 kids around the world ain’t cheap.
And of course Brad and St. Angie don’t want their kids to go into acting. That ruins their plan of raising a child army who will one day take over the world and make all of us their slaves. We should just surrender now and get it over with.
— Ellen DeGeneres (@TheEllenShow) March 3, 2014
If you woke up after a long coma and saw all those Veneers and soul-sucking eyes looking at you, you’d probably fall back into a coma and be happy about it. During the 52-hour-long circle jerk extravaganza that is the Oscars, Ellen DeGeneres took a group selfie with Jennifer Lawrence, Meryl Streep, Channing Tater (I think), Julia Roberts, Kevin Spacey, Brad Pitt, Bradley Cooper, Lupita Nyong’o, St. Angie Jolie, Lupita’s brother and some other hos. Ellen asked everyone to re-tweet it and apparently it broke Twitter for a second. And seeing Kevin Spacey make the O face he’d make if he was hitting it from the back broke my soul for a minute.
Well, I guess Maddox is the head hair stylist of the holy family now and I also guess that Brad Pitt let his son style his mop yesterday and told him, “Give me strung out punk anarchist chic!”
At the Independent Spirit Awards yesterday, Brad Pitt (who’s a producer on 12 Years a Slave, which won Best Picture) showed up looking like he spent the last 12 hours barfing up his internal organs and his will to live in a toilet in a non-air conditioned and not-at-all-well-ventilated crack house bathroom after smoking the wrong kind of crack. Those are the crack sweats! It’s very Trainspotting: The Golden Years. Brad Pitt looks like Robert DeNiro’s Taxi Driver character fell on really, really hard times and got a job as a roadie for Guttermouth.
With all that being said, this IS the look. But only because those wrinkles, that blotchy redness, the greasiness and those white hairs remind me of Anderson Cooper’s nustack and I’m so into that.
Here’s more of Brad’s fucked up hair and St. Angie Jolie wearing Endora’s favorite funeral dress yesterday. St. Angie should do Brad a favor and use her razor ass jaw bone to shave that memaw muff off of his chin.
Doesn’t it seem like it was only yesterday when the year was 2008 and we were all 6 years younger and my bloated gut was 3 inches smaller and Maddox was just a 7-year-old boy who was really into knives and faux hawks? And now here’s 12-year-old Maddox walking through LAX with Brad Pitt and St. Angie Jolie while wearing a Slipknot hoody and a look that says, “Don’t EVEN fucking…” That’s just regular old 12-year-old face. I know that face. I’ve made that face and I’ve seen that face at family gatherings. I have this 12 or 13 or 14-year-old cousin who never talks to anyone and if you’re not an app in her iPhone, she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. I’ll see her at family things and when I say hi to her, she’ll just roll both of her eyes at me. Since I’m a 12-year-old bitchy mean girl trapped in the body of a skinny fat gay, I can play that game and I roll my eyes back at her. Then she rolls her eyes back at me and then I roll my eyes back at her and we keep doing that until my tia calls for an am-boo-lance, because she thinks we’re both having a stroke. We look like we’re rolling on ecstasy at a no-dance rave.
So, anyway, here’s Maddox, St. Angie and Brad Pitt (wearing the only daytime casual outfit he owns) walking through LAX yesterday. I don’t know where the rest of the child army is, but I’m guessing they’re hiding in St. Angie’s huge ass bag.
At the BAFTA Awards (or “The First And Only Annual American Hustle Appreciation Awards” as we should call it since that mess is winning everything) in London tonight, the crowd parted as the holiest couple since Mary and Joseph sashayed through in matching tuxedos. Just like a power bottom’s b-hole after a busy weekend, I’m sort of torn about St. Angie Jolie’s look.
On one hand, I’m into it, because it gave me lukewarm shades of the greatest cinematic event of 1986 My Chauffeur and Shiloh probably styled her and at least she gave her fame whoring leg the night off. But on the other hand, she kind of looks like a malnourished and parched lemur lounge singer and the part of me that didn’t get My Chauffeur vibes got zombie Lady CaCa in Born This Way vibes and I never want to think about zombie Lady CaCa in Born This Way.
But on a more positive note, I am starting to sort of kind of like the bow-tie shaped grandma pube patch on Brad’s chin.
For Vanity Fair’s Hollywood Issue (Side note: Every EVERY every single time I see the word “Hollywood” I hear the greatest entertainer of everyone’s time, Rosa from WB Superstar USA, saying, “Hollywooood, can you handle this?”), famous types like ScarJo, Kate Winslet, Brad Pitt, Julia Roberts, The Mighty O and Sean Penn kept it “raw” (“That’s what my Grindr profile says!” – John Travolta) while posing for photographer Chuck Close.
Chuck Close pretty much only shoots in Polaroid, he doesn’t run his pictures through Photoshop and he wants his subjects to give him FACE! FACE! FACE! without makeup, fancy hair or fancy clothes. Chuck asked famous whores who usually get full hair and makeup for their passport photo to come SANS FARDS and with undone hair. That’s everyone cue to scream, “Lying bitch is wearing concealer! Lying bitch is wearing foundation! Lying bitch has on more paint than a Real Housewife!”
Vanity Fair posted most of the portraits and after the jump are portraits of Kate Winslet and Brad Pitt looking like a former Fabio impersonator turned train track drifter. (Note: You ARE a crazed Brangeloonie if you even think about licking that curled up nose hair.)
SAINTS: They’re not just like us!
When you and your piece go to Red Lobster for a romantic surf, turf and Cheddar Bay Biscuits dinner, dozens of your adoring fans are not waiting for you outside to take your picture, shake your hand and breathe in the blessed air you breathe out.
When St. Angie Jolie and Brad Pitt go to Shipwreck Bar and Grill in Airlie Beach, Queensland, their devoted disciples wait for them to arrive and cheer for them like it’s a goddamn red carpet premiere or some shit.
St. Angie is still directing that Unbroken movie in Australia and on Tuesday night she and Brad Pitt left the child army at home to eat seafood at a restaurant. (Well, he ate seafood and she sniffed the fish bones and licked on a bowl of popped fish eyeballs.) Worshipers of the Australian branch of the Church of Brangelina must’ve followed the beam of light from St. Angie’s halo to the Shipwreck Bar and Grill, because they were there when St. Angie and Brad arrived. St. Angie and Brad shook hands and waved at their fans. The last time I saw a Sméagol stretch his arm out like that, he was reaching for the One Ring and it wasn’t a pretty scene. But this time, a saintly Sméagol reached out her arm to bless a young child. When St. Angie (aka the real Supreme) touched that girl’s hand, she sucked out that girl’s youth and innocence and stored it in her signature forehead vein. That girl doesn’t care, because she was touched by true holy greatness.
Over the weekend, Brad Pitt worked the award show ho stroll and even though he’s had that Situation haircut for a little while, some hos still asked themselves, “But for why does this bitch look like the standby hurdy gurdy player in an Arcade Fire cover band?” Brad Pitt was asked by reporters at the Producers Guild Awards last night why he got the haircut every Williamsburg hipster bartender got in 2012 and he said that he was forced to get it for that WWII movie he’s shooting with Shia LaDouche in England. Brad Pitt’s hair was just cut that way. It wasn’t a choice! UsWeekly broke down this HIGHLY IMPORTANT news:
“It’s for a part,” Pitt, 49, told E! News at the Producers Guild Awards in Beverly Hills, where the new ‘do looked pretty much perfect with his tuxedo. “It’s not a choice!” Indeed, the military-inspired look is for his WWII role opposite Shia LaBeouf and others in Fury, which has been shooting in the UK.
My eyeballs will never forget when Brad grew the nastiest beard and looked like a mangy, down-trodden, weathered hobo billy goat who was constantly attacked by guineafowls trying to eat the fleas and maggots out of his hair. Any look is better than that look. Brad Pitt could get a portrait of the UGGs-CROCs devil child tattooed on his cheek and I’d still say, “Eh, still better than that billy goat shit.” So for that reason alone, I don’t totally hate the Macklemore on his head.
And here’s Brad with Steve McQueen and Chiwetel Ejiofor at the PGAs last night.
Brad Pitt is in 12 Years A Slave for about 5 fast minutes, but it’s his face and Michael Fassbender’s face that are the stars of the movie’s posters in Italy. Tumblr user Carefree Black Girl is in Italy and says that the posters for 12 Years A Slave make the movie seem like it’s a BRAD PITT MOVIE! She wrote this (via Vulture):
I was at the movies the other day ( I live in Italy) and I saw the poster for 12 Years A Slave. I’ve been following the press for months and I can’t wait to watch it but REALLY? I don’t remember Brad Pitt being the protagonist of the film or having such a pivotal role in the story to stay in the middle of the poster…
I sure don’t know anything about marketing strategy to appeal audiences but isn’t this going to far?
Some are screaming racism and some are saying that they put Brad Pitt’s big face on the poster, because he’s the biggest star and they want to sell the movie. Brad Pitt is also a huge star here in the US (ugh) and his giant face is not on the poster. Besides, if they were going with the “Let’s put the biggest STAH on the poster” route, then they should’ve put Michael Fassbender’s huge dick on the poster. It’s a bigger star than Michael Fassbender himself and Brad Pitt combined. Michael Fassbender’s big dick doesn’t totally make a cameo in the movie, but I think I saw its print when he wore old timey pajamas.
But seriously, that poster is a serious mess. Every hardcore Brangeloonie who worships at the altar of Brangelina is looking at that poster and saying, “Hey, I have that airbrushed on the side of my van!” That poster makes it looks like 12 Years A Slave is an Amish romance drama starring Brad Pitt as White Jesus.
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.