At the premiere of Unbroken (which again, is not a RobstenIsUnbroken propaganda documentary about Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart) in Sydney tonight, Dame St. Angie Jolie showed up looking like a beef bone that my abuelita wrapped in a black lace napkin to take home to her dog Tosco. St. Angie wore a strapless, boring, nothing-to-it dress to that made up Hollywood Film Awards and tonight she wore a strapless, boring, nothing-to-it dress. I have a feeling that’s going to be her thing this awards season. Designers are just going to wrap a napkin around her body, push her out onto the carpet and call it a day. Although, I think I just described every single dress that St. Angie has worn to every single premiere and awards show for the past 10 years.
Because I grew up Catholic and went to a few funerals as a kid, St. Angie’s dress reminds me of a black lace veil that an abuelita would wear while throwing herself on a casket as it goes into the ground at a burial. As I went through these pictures, I kept waiting to come across a picture of an abuelita asking St. Angie Jolie if she can have her black lace face veil dress in exchange for a giant thermos full of menudo. She’d probably give St. Angie the thermos full of menudo anyway.
Here’s more of St. Angie Jolie looking like the severe mom of an Ever After High doll at the Unbroken premiere with Brad Pitt and Jack O’Connell.
St. Angie’s Wedding Present To Brad Pitt Was Going To Be A $250,000 Typewriter Once Owned By Ernest Hemingway
Yes, because that’s what Brad Pitt wants for a wedding present – a $250,000 typewriter. Come on, Dame St. Angie, everybody knows that stoners are the easiest people to buy for! I once had a major stoner for a roommate and you know what I gave her for her birthday? A pizza. A pizza, and she fucking lost her shit over it. I know St. Angie is rich as shit, but come on – $250,000 on a typewriter? Not worth it unless it’s stuffed with cheese and smells like pepperoni! That would truly be a beautiful and thoughtful present.
Regardless, Dame St. Angie never bought her formerly-hot husband said expensive typewriter, but TMZ says she came very close. $11,000 close, in fact! TMZ says that earlier this summer, Our Lady of Eternally Skinny Arms, Dame St. Angie, called up Steve Soboroff, President of the Los Angeles Police Commission and vintage typewriter collector. Steve Soboroff apparently has a huge collection of famous people’s typewriters, like Truman Capote and Marilyn Monroe. Basically if a famous person touched a typewriter, he now owns it. Angie was initially interested in buying Tennessee Williams’ typewriter, but he didn’t want to sell it. So she settled on the last typewriter Ernest Hemingway owned before he died.
St. Angie agreed on the price of the typewriter – $250,000 – and sent an angel over to Steve Soboroff’s house with a deposit check for $11,000. However, something happened and Angie decided to cancel the deal. A source claims she never asked for the $11,000 deposit back, but they sent it anyway. And that’s the story of how St. Angie almost blew a quarter of a million dollars on a typewriter that was fingered by a famous dude!
Angie can spend her Maleficent money on whatever she wants, but $250,000 for Hemingway’s typewriter? Angie, you got hoodwinked! There’s only one typewriter that’s worth $250,000, and it’s this one:
Well, close up the polls, cancel election day and send everyone home, because what’s the point of voting now that benevolent high priestess of the universe Dame St. Angie Jolie has told Vanity Fair that in addition to saving the world, keeping the busted wig industry alive, training her child army for their eventual takeover of the planet and making room in her trophy vault for dozens of Best Director Oscar statues, she may cause the collapse of democracy by getting into the politics game. St. Angie running for political office would cause the death of democracy, because every single candidate would drop out and when we’d go to vote, the only category on the ballot would be for Dictator of YOUR LIFE and the only voting option would be Dame St. Angie Jolie. You’d have to vote in blood, of course.
During an interview about Unbroken, Vanity Fair’s Janine di Giovanni asked St. Angie if she’s interested in being a politician one day. The former president of the International Home Wreckers League tells Vanity Fair that she isn’t totally shitting on the idea of running for office:
“When you work as a humanitarian, you are conscious that politics have to be considered,” she tells di Giovanni. “Because if you really want to make an extreme change, then you have a responsibility.” Jolie then catches herself. “But I honestly don’t know in what role I would be more useful—I am conscious of what I do for a living, and that [could] make it less possible.”
In di Giovanni’s last meeting with Jolie, however, Jolie’s opinion seems to have shifted. When directly asked if she sees herself pursuing a life in politics, diplomacy, or public service, Jolie says, “I am open.”
“I am open” is the only thing every politician and wannabe politician needed to hear. George Clooney just divorced Amal Clooney, because his political dreams are over now that St. Angie is “open” to running and he doesn’t need the picture perfect politician’s wife anymore. Hillary Clinton just shredded the presidential acceptance speech she’s had on file for years and is going to make her way to Scrunchies ‘R Us to ask for an application. Chris Christie just resigned and got a job working in a bridge toll booth.
And everyone’s moving out of the White House to make way for President Dame St. Angie Jolie and her family. But Joe Biden can stay, because First Husband Brad Pitt needs a tokin’ partner.
Dame St. Angie Jolie and Brad Pitt (no titles) are still in Malta shooting their own Eyes Wide Shut titled By The Sea and the other day a guest star made an appearance on her head. It’s nice to know that the dehydrated, thirsty, Pedialyte-needing creature that was on Beyonce’s head a little while ago grew outs its bangs, reinvented itself as a strawberry blond and found a new job on St. Angie’s head.
By The Sea takes places in the 70s, which is obviously why she looks like the 70s spit up all over her. St. Angie looks like a frazzled housewife circa 1974 who leaves her cheating politician husband after he’s involved in a cheating scandal and joins a cult that believes only weak humans eat food and superhuman get all their nourishment from eating air. Yes, I got all that from one picture and I haven’t even hit the bong yet. Since St. Angie wanted her character to go blond, she should’ve left that dead cat wig alone and brought back her greatest look of all-time. Her Life Or Something Like It look:
That sixth-rate Dolly Parton impersonator hair… Those faded Dracula brows… Now that is glamour. That IS the look.
Brad Pitt, a man that with every passing year starts to look more and more like the long-lost illegitimate son of the Zig-Zag man (Maury, get on that), made an appearance on Zach Galifianakis’ “Between Two Ferns” to promote that WW2 movie where he plays a dude with the same haircut as every hipster who owns a coffee shop in Silver Lake (aka Fury). Poor Brapi; I can only imagine how disappointed he was when he walked on set and realized the two ferns he’d be in between weren’t weed plants. And yet, why do I get the feeling he probably tried to smoke them anyway?
My favorite episodes of “Between Two Ferns” are the ones where Zach Galapagos Islands and his guest throw subtle shade before reading each other to FILTH (see: Zach vs. President Barack Obama). But that never really happens here, because Brapi appears to have just woken up from his 2pm stoner nap and is too tie-tie to make with the funny. Case in point:
This is the face Brad made right after Zach brought out Louis CK. And now we know what St. Angie sees whenever she follows the trail of Funyun crumbs from the kitchen into the den and finds Brad staring at the light switch. “But where does the light go when I turn it off? It’s a mystery, man.”
And while it was nice of Zach to gift Brad with a “bassoon”, he doesn’t actually have any use for it. Hanging around St. Angie and the chosen ones all day is enough to make anyone feel higher than an LSD-dipped ‘shroom sandwich. It’s true! I’ve actually heard that smelling St. Angie’s hair is a big problem for teenage angels at Heaven High.
Shia LaBeouf’s “Method Acting” Is The Reason Why He Got Fired From A Broadway Play And Ended Up In Jail
Seen above looking like a dirty hot, dick jelly-ridden hitchhiker that you picked up one night and had messy fuck times with in a motel room before waking up the next morning to find out that he stole your car and gave you crabs, Shia LaBeouf tells Interview Magazine (via Page Six) that “method acting” is what led him to a jail cell and is what got him pink-slipped from the Broadway play Orphans. When Shia got fired from Orphans for being difficult and he started terrorizing homeless guys in Times Square, some blamed it on Shia being Shia and others blamed it on booze, the bad shit or a mental breakdown. Shia tells Interview that the only drug to blame is AC-TING! It took him a while, but Shia finally played the Joaquin Phoenix card.
RIP that field of greens. Because 30 minutes after this picture was taken, those greens were nothing but ash in Brad Pitt’s bong.
Brad Pitt is on the cover of Details to whore out that movie whose title I always read as Furry (Side note: What the world really needs is a war movie starring Furries) and he gets deep. Well, as deep as Brad Pitt can go. Brad takes a page out of Kristen Stewart’s Book of Deep Thoughts by saying that the soul-stealing paparazzi are stealing his bliss and he also farts at the mouth about how he’s not a shitty dad.
(“Michael, did you accidentally mix battery acid into your cup of Sanka this morning, because that’s the only explanation for why you posted a picture of a Johnny Hallyday wax statue in a post about Brad Pitt.” – you)
Brad Pitt lives in mansion where red laser beams protect the halls, an army of security guards patrol every corner and ninjas trained by Child Army Captain Maddox cling to the ceiling, but he says that he doesn’t feel one hundred percent safe unless he’s got a gun in the house. Brad is promoting that army movie Fury in the UK and during an interview with Britain’s Radio Times (via The Independent) the topic of guns came up and he said that he grew up with guns, he got his first gun at the age of 6, he fired his first handgun at 8 and you’ll have to rip his gun out of his cold, stoned hand. Actually, that wouldn’t be hard. If you want Brad to drop his gun. Just wave a joint at him. Brad put it like this:
“There’s a rite of passage where I grew up of inheriting your ancestors’ weapons. My brother got my dad’s. I got my grandfather’s shotgun when I was kindergarten. The positive is that my father instilled in me a profound and deep respect for the weapon.”
The NYDN also brought out a quote Brad Pitt spit out a while ago about how he just feels better knowing that he’s got a gun nearby: “I don’t feel the house is completely safe if I don’t have one hidden somewhere. That’s my thinking, right or wrong.”
I know hos who feel the same way Brad does and I know hos who feel the opposite way. As my ass gets older and I start to watch way too much 48 Hours and THE NEWS!!!!, I get more and more paranoid. So I keep pepper spray next to my bed, which is genius if you think about. If somebody ever does break in, the darkness mixed with confusion will cause me to pepper spray myself in the face. I should just keep an iPod loaded with a Justin Bieber song next to me. That’s the deadliest weapon of all.
If I was Brad Pitt, I’d probably feel pretty safe without a gun too, because if anybody breaks in they’ll have to deal with a team of security guards, the child army and Dame St. Angie Jolie who will hypnotize the intruder with her ethereal graciousness and touch their chest, turning their criminal heart into a good heart.
Here’s Brad looking like a hobo Weekend at Bernie’s at the premiere Fury in NYC last night.
Malala Yousafzai became the youngest Nobel Peace Prize winner in history today (“Malala, you’re welcome for the recommendation, by the way” – Justin Bieber) and the day should belong to her and it did belong to her until St. Angie Jolie came along and stole her glory!
Back in June, the British royals announced that they were adding the title of “Dame” to St. Angie Jolie’s mountain of other titles (e.g. Saint, The Second Coming, Great Royal Home Wrecker, Our Lady Of Condom Shoes, etc…). Today at Buckingham Palace in London, THE QUEEN made it official by dame’ing St. Angie Jolie while throwing a look that said, “Reminder to self: Fish out that jam-covered crumpet I keep in my pocketbook and give it to this malnourished child.” THE QUEEN’s Corgis were seen around Buckingham Palace with clothespins on their noses and that could only mean one thing: stinky ass Brad Pitt was in the building. Brad Pitt and the entire child army were there when THE QUEEN presented St. Angie with the insignia of an Honorary Dame Grand Cross of the Most Distinguished Order of St Michael and St George for helping to save the world, specifically for her campaign work fighting sexual violence and for services to UK foreign policy.
The Telegraph says that since St. Angie Jolie isn’t a Brit, she can’t use the title of Dame, but she can throw the initials DCMG after her name. (“Oh, does DCMG stand for Depraved Conniving Man Grabber?” – Jennifer Aniston circa 2005)
St. Angie Jolie and Brad Pitt were reportedly invited to George Clooney’s intimate, low-key wedding in Venice, but they didn’t go, because they were too busy shooting their version of Eyes Wide Shut called By The Sea in Malta. They’re still shooting that movie, so I guess St. Angie only makes time for real queens, not STUNT QUEENS.
Here’s more of St. Angie looking like Lady Tremaine in an Easter suit while getting honored by THE QUEEN.
I see Psychologies Magazine subtly coming at newlywed Brad Pitt by putting that “Why do you really want to get married?” cover line next to him.
In case you didn’t already know, Brad Pitt and St. Angie Jolie have kids. Like some people who have kids, they love their kids and really, really, REALLY, really love talking about how much they love their kids. Brangie is that bitch on Facebook who posts cheesy open poems to their baby who can’t read yet and always goes on about how they’re thinking of having their angel son’s DNA tested because they’re beginning to think he’s the biological child of the sun, moon and stars. But since St. Angie and Brad aren’t on Facebook (that us peons know of) they have to drool about being parents during interviews. The world is their Facebook.
While talking to Psychologies Magazine (via E! News) about his new movie Fury, Brad Pitt dribbled out verbal streams of syrupy love about being a father.