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….“
File under “DUH” (and also under “FOR WHY didn’t the pap use a telephoto lens??”) (and also under ”Thank god no one saw me touch my computer screen just now”). On Wednesday night, Liv Tyler admitted on Watch What Happens Live that she had a difficult time paying attention during Justin Theroux’s jogging scene in the pilot episode of The Leftovers because it looked like her co-star had rented out the crotch of his sweatpants to a family of fat squirrels:
“There was this scene where he was jogging. And there was quite a large bulge in his sweatpants, and it was all over. I get distracted when I watch the pilot, definitely. I’m like, ‘Can’t help but look there.’ But I’ve never noticed the bulge other times.”
Obviously the gold standard for lumpy bulges belongs to Jon Hamm and his incredible two oranges in a plastic shopping bag bulge, but Mr. Jennifer Aniston’s nut pile deserves at least a runner-up ribbon. And I think Liv Tyler might have just discovered a new way to draw in viewers. Just like how The Walking Dead has Talking Dead, The Leftovers could have a talk show called The Lowhangers, where Liv Tyler and guests discuss the bulges featured in the episode they just watched, as well as teasing clips of bulges from next week’s show. You want to know how I know it will be a success? I literally had 0 interest in The Leftovers until I heard the word “bulge”, and then all of a sudden I got the urge to delete old episodes of Mad Men off my computer to make room for an HD rip of the pilot episode. Bulges get viewers!
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.
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*
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.
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?
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!”
Here’s Jennifer Aniston at the premiere of another one of her movies that I’ll probably watch in a few years on basic cable when it’s late at night, I’m vulnerable and need something to do while inhaling two bags of Milanos. So whenever Jennifer Aniston’s got a premiere, she puts on some tight satin dress and makes sure her next cover of UsWeekly is bumping all the way out. I see you, Aniston, and I see your first trimester Beyonce™ brand pillow baby. Or maybe that’s a bag of gin and it’s attached to a straw that sticks out of the top of her dress so she can suck on it and get shit-faced while watching her mess of a movie. That’s totally it.
Even though that dress is a STUNT QUEEN prop and she’s only wearing it because she wants everyone to think she’s knocked up with an entire child army that will take down St. Angie’s child army, I sort of like that dress. That line across her chest makes it look like her tits are squinting. No, I’m not stoned. I think.