Details Magazine threw a party for their current cover ho Justin Theroux at the Tower Bar in L.A.’s Sunset Tower Hotel on Tuesday night and WWD got Jennifer Aniston to say a few words about the man who puts her Cabbage Patch Dolls to sleep every night and talks her off of the ledge when her maid misplaces one of her Beanie Babies. The WWD reporter who talked to Jennifer Aniston is probably still stoned, because when she opened her mouth, out came forty waves of the good shit smoke and vodka fumes. Jennifer was either six kinds of stoned or she was six kinds of drunk or six kinds of both. Or maybe she’s just suffering from stage 10 dickmatization and getting good dick has warped her brain. Because Jennifer didn’t only jack Justin Theroux off with her words. She jacked him, sucked him, rode him and let him finish in her butt. She laid it on thick. Jennifer talking about Justin sounds a lot like the looniest loon in Bellevue’s Brangeloonie department talking about St. Angie Jolie.
“I commend him for his courage. This is not normal for him. He’s so graceful and utterly kind and golden. It is amazing. He’s just so beautiful and handsome to me, and I love that his eyeballs are so beautifully captured because those eyes just knock me out every day. He just gets better every year. He’s just like a lost gem in the sand, and he’s just always been there and been brilliant, and now this is just in a different light.”
Whether it be Justin’s dick, weed or booze, bitch is on something, because she’s talking crazy. “His eyeballs are so beautifully captured.” That’s some serial killer shit. If Justin ever decides that being with Jennifer is not worth living in a multi-million dollar estate in Bel Air and he leaves her, dude better either join the Witness Protection Program immediately or get a SWAT team to protect his beautifully captured eyeballs. Because if he ever breaks up with her, he won’t remember a thing after saying, “It’s over.” He’ll wake up to the darkness in the ER as Jennifer Aniston is in her bed, kissing his torn-off eyeballs in between telling them, “Now we’ll always be together….“
The premiere of HBO’s The Leftovers (aka The Others from Lost Move To Long Island) happened in NYC last night and Jennifer Aniston figured it was the perfect time to kill all those break-up rumors her publicist probably leaked himself by getting on Justin Theroux like he was a Cabbage Patch doll knocked up with a litter of Beanie Babies. Jennifer Aniston truly gave the tabloids several gifts. She gave them the perfect picture to use for their “Justin Storms Out! Calls Jen ‘Too Clingy!’” cover story and the perfect picture (see above) for their “Jen Doesn’t Want To Ruin Her Bikini Body! Makes Justin Carry Their Unborn Triplets!” cover story.
Bitches are so orange that they look like two Chick-O-Sticks in fancy clothes. Justin did himself up like a sleazy, traveling hipster preacher who seduces dumb, religious housewives so he can do them hard and steal their TV and purses as they sleep it off. And Jennifer’s skin looked as glowing as ever. Fillers, tequila, chemical peels, Baby Alive slobber, tears and $500 dolphin placenta cream works wonders. I mean, Aveeno and Smart Water. Aveeno and Smart Water works wonders!
Here’s a few more pictures of Justin, Jen and his co-stars Liv Tyler and Amy Brenneman at last night’s premiere. Justin’s beaming like, “Finally, you’re all here for ME,” as the photographers screamed, “Over here, Jen! Over here!”
Good call on the scarf; that’s how I take sneaky sips off my Wine Rack too (…is what I’d say if I wasn’t a total mess who gave up dignity a long time ago and replaced it with chugging goon bags in public).
The wedding of Sad Sack & Kewl Dude aka Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux doesn’t even have a date and already there’s problems worthy of calling the whole thing off and dividing up their shared collection of moisturizer (“You can have all the Aveeno shit” – Jennifer Aniston). According to Radar, Justin thinks Jenny needs to lay off sucking the glass dick (that’s what I call drinking wine. Remember what I said earlier about dignity?) and he wants to start by making their wedding a dry one. Oh, it’s going to be dry alright; try getting your dick wet after denying Sadness Estates™ most loyal customer her favorite pino greege.
“The older Justin gets, the more he’s become a super health freak, and he wants Jen to follow suit. She’s definitely slowed down her boozing since she and Justin hooked up, but she still loves two or three glasses of wine every night. Justin’s hope is that she’s going to give that up soon,” said the source.
“He really wants her to quit and has been pushing for a non-alcoholic wedding – an idea that was met with great laughter by Jen and her girl crew.”
Then Jennifer pulled Justin aside, slapped him across the face like Cher in Moonstruck, and told him to imagine if Godzilla and a hurricane had a baby, because that’s what you get if Chelsea Handler goes longer than 20 minutes without booze.
Plus, it’s unfair to deny alcohol to the poor unfortunate guests forced to share a dinner table at the reception with Terry Richardson. The only that would make sitting within 50ft of To Catch A Preda-Terry even remotely tolerable is the freedom of getting next-level hammered at an open bar.
No, you’re not looking at a picture of me after my mental breakdown yesterday (not enough ice cream and tears on that sweater); believe it or not, it’s actually Jennifer Aniston on the set of her new movie “Cake”. Jenny must be gunning for an Oscar nomination, because she’s put on her best version of ugly drag, which means dying her hair Nice n’ Easy 6A (Light Ash Brown) and putting on a pair of dumpy old Gap khakis from 1998.
According to the description of “Cake”, Jenny is playing “A grieving mother suffering from chronic pain in the aftermath of a fatal car accident”, and truthfully I think they’ve done a good job of making Jenny look like a sad mom. There’s nothing I hate more than when Hollywood tries to convince us a character is poor or homely by putting a gorgeous actress in an Old Navy hoodie and a ponytail. “Wait, where did Sofia Vergara go? All I see is Darlene McFugly, Kmart manager.”
I’m sure Jenny is convinced she’s pulling a Charlize Theron and has probably already started rehearsing her Academy Award acceptance speech, but she still just looks like every other person I’ve ever seen in line at Circle K buying 2-for-1 Monsters and a lottery ticket. All that’s missing is her jangling the 30 random keys on her Nascar lanyard till I give her the stink-eye.
Here’s more of Jennifer on set mentally counting down the minutes till she is able to go home and jump into a 10-gallon jug of La Mer cream, as well as her co-star Sam Worthington (who plays, let me guess, the hot guy who pulls her out of her depressive funk by fucking the hot back into her):
And not for the reason you’re thinking. Justin Theroux isn’t a normal boyfriend, he’s a cool boyfriend. When Justin Theroux jacks off, he keeps it real by using motorcycle grease, the shoe polish from his hair, and the torn-off scraps from his homemade jorts, all while trying to ignore the inevitable text from Terry Richardson that says “Hey Buddy, my jackdar is going crazy! You baiting? Can I come over and take some pics?” No, Justin Theroux is stealing Jennifer Aniston’s creams and serums to use on his face. Jenny Aniston, who is currently cashing checks from Aveeno, gave a
live-action Aveeno advertisement interview to E! News where she outed Justin as a skincare-stealing THIEF:
“It’s hysterical. What product doesn’t he try to hijack? He’s good to his skin, that’s for sure. It’s always, ‘what are you using, what is that?’ It’s cute. He’s got gorgeous skin. Perfect skin.”
Uh huh. Let me guess: he just can’t get enough Aveeno® Ultra Calming® cleanser, Aveeno® Fresh Essentials® Daily Exfoliator, and Aveeno® Positively Ageless® Night Cream. Sike! You think Aniston actually uses shit from the drugstore? Rich bitch is rich; the only thing she uses Aveeno for is to tip housekeeping when she goes on vacation. “Thanks for picking up all my empty bottles of Smartwater®. Here, take some moisturizer. I’m told it’s good for moisture or something.”
Regardless of whether it’s Aveeno or not (it’s not) I don’t doubt Justin is stealing her face stuff. Before Jenny, Justin had probably been to Mexico a handful of times. But a relationship with Jennifer Aniston means you’re on vacation 42 weeks out of the year, and all that Mexico has probably dried out his skin like a beaded lizard’s sunbaked nut sack. He’s not trying to be cute, Aniston, he’s trying to stay alive. If he doesn’t use every last drop of her moisturizer and age-reversal cream and extra-strength skin hydrator, he’s going to start looking like the Brooklyn biker version of Tan Mom.
Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux haven’t been papped together for 86 days, 14 hours, 12 minutes and 45 seconds (I made those numbers up, but I’m sure a high level Brangeloonie will correct me), but yesterday they mysteriously came out of Barney’s in NYC together on the same day that two new US posters for Maleficent came out. Coincidence, I think not! Jennifer Aniston’s team obviously hacked into the system of Disney’s marketing department, found the exact date when they were planning to release the new US posters for Maleficent and then she staged a choreographed pap stroll with Anarchist Eddie Munster on the same day. What won’t that shameless heffa do to get all the attention on her?! And of course she had to borrow Beyonce’s Temper-Pedic Bump® to get her 500th “THERE’S A BABEH IN THERE” cover of Life & Style. I’m surprised she didn’t stop in front of the paps and queef out a newborn real quick. She’s probably saving that move for Maleficent’s release date.
*This post sponsored the International Association of Brangeloonies Against Aniston Stunts*
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?