Maybe it’s the angle of the picture or the fact that she’s giving the same face my mom used to give when she caught my sister and I doing hoodrat stuff, but that haircut does sort of make Jennifer Aniston looks an overworked mother of 3 kids. I feel like at any moment, she’s going to start yelling at me to get out of the neighbor’s pool while picking up the phone and pretending to call Santa. “Nope, she’s being a real lil’ asshole right now. You should probably tell the elves to stop making toys and just wrap up a hot reindeer dump, because that’s all she deserves.”
Despite the fact that Jennifer Aniston looks fucking better at 44 than most 34-year-olds (and the odd 27-year-old), Radar says that she instantly regretted her recent decision to cut off all her hair because it was making her look too old. Apparently, she’d fried the shit out of her hair after too many Brazilian Blowouts and the hair cut was necessary, but she couldn’t get used to catching her reflection in the mirror and mistaking it for a resident of Shady Pines. Instead of waiting for it to grow out like any of us who’ve been forced to cut off the lower half their hair because it felt like Bob Ross’s pubes, she got impatient and spent 5 hours getting hair extensions put in. Hair extensions aren’t exactly great for your hair, so she’s pretty much back at square one.
What is it with this woman’s relationship with her hair?!? First her hair makes her famous, and everyone loves her hair, but she doesn’t, so she grows it all out just to spite the hair. Then her long hair starts to define her, so she cuts it all off. Then she thinks the hair doesn’t make her look pretty enough, so she grows it all out again. It’s like her and her fucking hair are in a mother/daughter Lifetime movie (Not Without My Flatiron, starring Jennifer Lawrence as Jennifer Aniston, and Ariana Grande as Jennifer’s Hair).
Usually my feelings toward Jennifer Aniston go between complete indifference and minor interest. The former 97% of the time and the latter when Friends reruns are on and I’m feeling nostalgic about 1995′s Must See TV schedule. Today I’m filled with so much ugly, misplaced anger that I’m pretty sure if I looked in a mirror, a mash up of Chris Brown’s face and Nancy Grace’s nostrils would be staring back at me. Two days ago I was in California. Granted, it’s not the sun and fun of Cabo where Jen is vacationing for the bajillionth time with her friends, but I came home to the Midwest temperatures below zero, so I’m having a hard time mustering up any enthusiasm for those in a warmer climate. For my say something nice: Jen looks good, decidedly not pregnant, I’m not getting any shades of jealousy or anger over the Holy Brood That Must Not Be Named and she looks a lot less like a wax statue of herself than usual.
Also pictured are Jennifer’s fiancé Justin Theroux, BFF Courteney Cox who looks a little less Lady Elaine Fairchilde in the face thanks to the blurriness that comes with a telephoto lens and Howard Stern wearing an ensemble out of the Harpo Marx beachwear collection.
Since the whole world cares about Jennifer Aniston’s Quest for Child, I naturally looked at these pictures of her in Los Cabos and immediately thought: What’s under the towel, Jen? You hiding a baby? Which is fucking stupid, because DUH it’s just a picture of a woman on vacation wearing a cover-up. But we live in a world where FOREVER ALONE Jenny could be on a beach at 87 wearing a cover-up and we’d still have magazines printing cover stories that say: JENNIFER ANISTON: BABY AT LAST, so give me a break if my first thoughts were of Jennifer stripping the Cabbage Patch Dolls off her bed and placing them in a box marked: FREE TO A LONELY SPINSTER.
Just like she does every damn year, Jennifer Aniston is ringing in the New Year in Los Cabos with Best Friend Forever Courtney Cox and Best Get Me A Smartwater, Bitch Justin Theroux. Jen in a bikini is nothing new (throwing Jennifer Aniston bikini into a search engine will return as many results as LeAnn Rimes crazy tweets) but this year it looks like she’s invested in a wearable blanket, which either means she’s covering up a baby bump or she did a shit job with an at-home waxing kit. I’m going to go the latter, because those things are always a goddamned disaster that leave you saying ‘Fuck it, I’ll wear a beach Snuggie’ after fucking up the first 2 pulls. Jen, you’re 44; let your garden grow, girl.
Here’s more of Jenny, Courteney Cox, Justin Theroux, Justin’s shitty back tattoo that looks like a collage of penises, Jimmy Kimmel and his wife, Howard Stern, and Beth Ostrosky Stern having fun on a beach while you sadly sink further into the couch for hour 4 of a House Hunters marathon:
(Pics via Splash)
Here’s Goopy Paltrow and Chris Martin driving into Jennifer Aniston’s ridiculous ass Bel Air estate for a holiday party last night and in that picture it kind of looks like they’re just blindly driving along the road, which is the perfect metaphor for their lives.
So Jennifer Aniston threw a holiday party for her celebwhore friends and I’m sure it was just like your holiday party. But instead of serving food from Boston Market and Trader Joe’s frozen appetizers section on napkins, she served food made by a chef flown in on her private jet from wherever and served that food on brand new Hermes plates, which they later threw into the trash because reusing plates is gross. Instead of keeping bottles of Andre and cans of Cran-Brr-Rita chilled in a plastic trash can full of ice, she had three open bars and a giant wine fountain full of wine from her own damn vineyard. (Side note: The tanks of all of Jen’s toilets were filled with Miraval Rose.) And instead of the party ending after someone’s auntie projectile barfed up spiked egg nog, the party ended when Goopy Paltrow took a bite of chorizo in a blanket and barfed at the mouth in Spanish about her native Spain. FYI: Every country is Goopy’s native country. She’s that international.
Both UsWeekly and The Daily Mail made a big deal about Jennifer Aniston inviting a fellow ex of Brad Pitt’s to her party. It’s not that big of a deal really. Aniston invited Goopy, because she and Chelsea Handler needed a bitch to make fun of. But I’m sure Aniston and Goopy bonded at the cheese table when they both took a bite of warm munster cheese which reminded them of going down on Brad Pitt.
And here’s a few riveting pictures of famous hos like Courteney Cox (with a hot piece) and Will Arnett driving themselves to Aniston’s party. Why oh why didn’t the LAPD give us a beautiful Christmas gift by setting up a DUI checkpoint in front of Aniston’s gates?
Since Jennifer Aniston’s fiancé is a Ducati-riding badass bitch who uses motorcycle grease to slide his legs into a pair of XS wax-coated black jeggings and makes his manicurist put authentic dirt under his fingernails so he looks extra hard, she has to keep up with his butter knife edginess. And she is!
Jennifer’s makeup artist friend Gucci Westman (that sounds like the name of a shelved character from Beverly Hills Teens, or like the name of a white Pomeranian) Instagrammed a picture of their matching cartilage studs yesterday. Jennifer got a 1990s mall piercing after she took a machete to her hair because Keratin ate the life out of her locks. (A cold shiver of fear just crawled up the spine of the reigning Keratin Kween Justin Timberlake. JT should really cover Billy Ocean’s “Caribbean Queen” and change the lyrics to “Keratin Kween.”)
After Jen and Gucci used forged letters from their parents to get their ears pierced, they listened to the Soul Asylum album at a listening station at Tower, tried to get free samples from the Clinique counter, stole a midriff turtleneck top from Contempo Casuals and while they were waiting for their moms to pick them up in the front of the mall, they did each other nails with Street Wear nail polish. But Jennifer’s boyfriend Justin Theroux showed up on his bike before her mom did and he gave her a ride home. Gucci was so fucking jealous.
Wearing a STUNT QUEEN dress with a built-in fetus globe worked for Jennifer Aniston yet again. Jennifer has another “Yup, There’s A Fetus In There!” cover of a tabloid to wallpaper her Beanie Baby nursery with. UsWeekly (via The Daily Mail) says that the slight bump on Aniston’s body isn’t a bloat bubble of tequila and air kisses from her Baby Alive dolls. A source says that an actual fetus is growing in there, but she’s not ready to shout it in front of Maddox’s window just yet.
“She is scared of having a miscarriage, given her age, so they are not saying anything until she is six months along. Jen and Justin’s wedding plans are on hold for the time being, the baby is taking priority.”
I know we all have 50,000 words to spit out about Aniston having a case of the BABIES!!! for the 800th time, but let’s just let Holly Madison’s kid Rainbow Aurora say it all for us:
Aniston’s spokeswhore has already stamped the “LIES!!!” label on UsWeekly’s cover. But he should’ve just said that it’s Tabloid Wednesday and Jennifer Aniston is always knocked up on Tabloid Wednesday.
“What do you mean I look knocked up?!” asked a coy Jennifer Aniston while framing her fetus dome zone with her hands and wearing a dress that makes it look like she’s got a bump and a FUPA.
The Toronto International Film Festival ended last night with the premiere of Life of Crime starring Jennifer Aniston, Mos Def, Tim Robbins, John Hawkes and a bunch of other people. Since Jennifer Aniston will never pass up an opportunity to give the tabloids a picture for their next “BITCH IS KNOCKED UP WITH QUINTUPLETS” cover, she wore a wonky dress with a built-in baby bump sling. That dress is obviously a shameless STUNT QUEEN prop and it’s uglier than those diarrhea shoes, but I still like it and only because that sling part is a perfect place to keep a bottle of vodka. Any type of dress that has a vodka bottle hammock on it is my kind of dress.
Moving on from that dress, it looks like she had 2-day-old makeup on and instead of taking it off, she just put on more makeup, and that hair is a wreck. She looks like a drunk bridesmaid who passed out in the bushes after getting it on with one of the waiters in the men’s bathroom. In other words, I love it!
It’s been way too long since Jennifer Aniston has delivered a good old-fashioned staged bikini photo-op in Mexico (sponsored by SmartWater), so she gave us one yesterday. Although, those pictures are so damn blurry that it could be Brad Pitt kissing on Joan Jett for all we know.
To celebrate the fact that We’re The Millers didn’t flop, Jennifer, her piece Justin Theroux, Jason Bateman and his wife Amanda Anka all went down to Los Cabos. Jennifer is killing two birds with this shit. She started the latest pregnancy rumors by bumping it at her premiere a few weeks ago and now she’s killing those rumors by struttin’ around in a two piece. And she’s struttin’ around in a two piece while carrying a bottle of SmartWater. My favorite picture is the one above. Romance IS Jennifer Aniston whispering sweet nothings to Justin Theroux and by “sweet nothings” I mean: “Stop bitching about how my razor-sharp nipples are cutting into your chest and lean in closer. That SmartWater bottle needs to get in the shot, because I need that bonus! Your black skinny jeans aren’t cheap, whore!”
Since I’m extremely interested in everything that Jennifer Aniston wears to every single one of her premieres, here she is throwing awkward, wonk-eyed kissy faces at the camera like a regular Lohan at the German premiere of Wir Sind Die Millers in Berlin yesterday. That kissy face… Bitch, you’re not on Instagram, so quit posing like you’re on Instagram.
Jennifer wore a purple-ish satin dress (complete with a built-in tabloid cover magnet) to the NYC premiere of We’re the Millers, she wore a dress from The Laura Ingalls Collection to the London premiere and last night her ass was back in black. Everything is all right again when blogger types can once again type the sentence, “Jennifer Aniston wore a little black dress to…..” But of course, ho just had to bring attention to her fetus growing area by wearing that huge belt. I don’t even know what that belt thing is. It looks a saddle or like a black leather back brace worn backwards. She’s going to need a back brace to carry dozens of copies of Life & Style (with this picture on the cover next to the words “JEN FINALLY PREGNANT! WORE BABY BUMP PROTECTOR TO PREMIERE!) from her front porch to her scrapbooking room.
And Jennifer should give that hairstyle back to Kristen Stewart and never ever borrow it again.
At the NYC premiere of that movie where Jennifer Aniston plays the most unbelievable stripper in history, she wore a tight, satin dress that made it look like she had a littler of babies up inside there and so naturally everyone started screaming about how she’s knocked up and she started screaming back about how she just ate a few taquitos or something. Ho obviously planned it, because looking like she has a case of the BABIES!!! will get her at least two tabloid covers and denying it will get her at least two more tabloid covers.
Well, at today’s London premiere of We’re The Millers, Jennifer didn’t wear a tight, satin dress that makes it look like she’s growing a baby inside her body. Instead, Jennifer wore a cutesy dress she’d put on her baby if she had a baby. That is a baby dress on her body. It’s always babies with her. She looks like she got drunk at a house party, spilled a pomegranate margarita on her outfit and then stumbled into some random children’s bedroom and put on the first dress she found in the closet. It’s a look, I guess.
She kind of looks like Edith the Lonely Doll all grown up. And now I hate her for making me thinking of creepy Edith again.