Jennifer Aniston

So much for the 489th rumor that Jennifer Aniston is knocked up with the final sign of the apocalypse, because here she is in Cabo with a flat stomach and I don't see a fetus foot dangling out of her crotch. This Christmas, Jennifer Aniston is blinding people within a 40-mile radius of Cabo with the bright ass rays shooting off of her 89-carat diamond hitchin' ring and she's doing tequila shots out of Justin Theroux's cum gutters. I'm just going to point out three quick things about these pictures:

1. While Jennifer Aniston puts some heat on her ice pick nipples, she lies in the birthing position, because you can never practice too much and you never know when the BABY OF YOUR DREAMS might pop out of there. I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant happens in real life sometimes.

2. Is Justin Theroux serious with those jorts and newsboy cap? Justin is in Cabo, bitch isn't at a summer barbecue on a rooftop on Avenue B. You know at least once during their trip, he'll ask a waiter, "Tienes Pabst?"

3. SmartWater is SadWater today, because Jennifer Aniston is cheating on it with what looks like Fiji.

And as for Justin, fugly jorts and all, I still would.

On the right is Justin Theroux and Jennifer Aniston at The 26th American Cinematheque Award Gala Honoring Ben Stiller in Beverly Hills last night, and on the left is the legendary TV couple whose look they copy and pasted. Jennifer Aniston should feel one with Brenda Walsh, because they both had their overrated man snatched away by a whore pit viper. How can Aniston do Brenda wrong by stealing one of her signature looks? Maybe Aniston thinks that if she wears Brenda's lucky prom dress, she'll get some. Sorry, Aniston, the only way you're gonna get some from the grown-up Eddie Munster is if you buy him a $100,000 Porsche. Oh wait, you already know that.

But more importantly, why are they sweating? Rich and famous people aren't supposed to sweat. Shouldn't they always have an invisible force field of air conditioning around them? Don't they Botox each one of their pores so this doesn't happen? I bet that's fake sweat, because they want every one to think that they had fast, dirty, breath-taking sex in the backseat of the car. Actually, they probably did bone in the car (see: Aniston buys Justin Theroux a $100,000 Porsche).

Since Jennifer Aniston and Chelsea Handler regularly party in Mexico together and pass out side-by-side in a puddle of barfed up tequila worms, tortilla chip crumbs and drops of the clear leather shoe polish Chelsea smears on her face to stay glowing, the former was the first guest on the latter's revamped talk show last night. Jennifer Aniston was on there to promote Jennifer Aniston and to also remind us all that Justin Theroux, a human man who breathes oxygen and is not made out of cardboard,  "gave her" a 4500-carat diamond ring that she already owned and always kept on her hard nipple knob just in case he was in the mood to propose (aka drank the roofied beer she gave him and didn't put up a fight when she made his hand sign his name on an engagement contract).

Chelsea, who was wearing one of Tootsie's old dresses, said something like, "So you got engaged." Then just like she had practiced all day in front of a three-way mirror, Aniston did a 1... 2... 3... SCRUNCH FACE TO PULL THEM GLYCERIN TEARS OUT 5... 6... 7... FLASH THAT RING BY FANNING THOSE TEARS... That shit was more staged and choreographed than Paul Ryan's soup kitchen visit. 

Chelsea then told Jen that Justin is the greatest guy ever and they make the greatest couple ever. I felt like I was sitting on a plastic bench in the quad and chewing on a square slice of pizza while trying not to roll my eyeballs off, because they looked like two high school sophomores slobbering about their boyfriends.

Even though Jennifer Aniston gave the stunt queen performance of her life, I am disappointed in her. I mean, not once did she say that she was so happy she cried out a million tears of happiness and the only way she can quench her tear ducts is by downing a bottle of Smart Water. (*holds up bottle of Smart Water to her face while flashing a smile at the camera*) Actually, Jennifer Aniston's tears probably ARE Smart Water and I bet that ring was made with Smart Water. I stand corrected. Well played, Aniston.

In an Internet commercial for Smartwater, Jennifer Aniston does something no other celebrity has ever done before by making fun of herself and the rumors about her for a check. Jennifer strapped on Beyonce's hand-me-down silicone baby cocoon to laugh at all the pregnancy rumors and she pulled off her Rachel wig to show us that in her natural state she looks like It's Pat after a brow wax (or like a Puerto Rican lunch lady circa 1982, or like Prince on The View yesterday). Yeah, whatever, but where are the scenes of her staging the mock birth of her favorite Beanie Baby in the makeshift labor room in her basement or the scenes of her and Angie Jolie plotting the next chapter of the longest-running publicity stunt known as their feud? That's because those aren't rumors. They're truths according totheMaddoxImadeupinmyheadbecauseimfuckingcrazy.

The National Enquirer (Side Note: Am I the only one who says "Enquiring minds want to know. I want to know!" every time he reads "The National Enquirer"?) says that when Justin Theroux asked Jennifer Aniston to be his wife, she didn't scream out YES! YES! before pulling out an ironclad engagement contract and making him sign it in Baby Alive pee (Baby Alive pee IS thicker than blood) so that he can't change his mind when the wine buzz wears off. But apparently, Jennifer did make Justin promise to sign a prenup before she took that 8.5 carat diamond engagement ring out of his hand. Uh huh.

Playing Rachel Green in almost every single movie she's in has made Jennifer Aniston over $120 million, so she's trying to protect her fortune and doesn't want to trade doing shots of $2,000-a-bottle tequila in a rented multi-million dollar Mexican beach house for doing shots of Sauza at the El Torito in Northridge. Even though Justin looks like a street hobo who lives in a gas station bathroom and steals all of his clothes from Salvation Army donation bins, he's actually worth $10 million himself, so he's happy to sign a prenup. Some source said this:

“She’s working feverishly with her lawyers to hash out the pre-nup so she and Justin can marry by the end of the year. Then they plan to start adoption proceedings so they can bring home a baby in 2013. Jen has found her romantic happy ending at last. But she’s been around the block enough times to know that she has to be realistic. God forbid this marriage fails, but if it does, Jen at least wants the security of knowing she won’t be wiped out financially.”

Justin signing that prenup is good news for all of us and by "all of us" I mean me. Because I hope I live long enough to see the headline: "Jennifer Aniston Leaves Entire $120 Million Fortune To Her Cabbage Patch Dolls!" I deserve that!

Jennifer Aniston can finally take "Single Ladies" off of her ipod shuffle and stop doing jazz hands to it for good, because People says that as of his birthday last Friday, Justin Theroux made it official and took her ass off the market. Yes, he proposed to her on HIS birthday! Unlike the two cheap ass tricks who saw an engagement ring/birthday present combo as a brilliant move, and popped the question on MY birthday. "You can have a present if you just promise your life awaaaaay!" And yes, of course my greedy ass accepted. There were diamonds at stake people!

Soon, the internetz will be flooded with lots of MILLIONS OF CATS ARE CRYING jokes, Beanie Baby orphan jokes, FAKE!! FAME WHORE!! denials and the piercing shreik of a million Brangie fans screaming NOOO YOU ARE A BARREN UNLOVABLE EXCEPT BY EQUALLY BARREN BITCHES BITCH!!!1one!1! in unison. Those explosions you hear right now aren't fireworks from Jen's chocha. No, it's a combination of Jen superfans superjizzing in their pants, Jen haters' heads exploding like a scene from Mars Attacks and everyone elses' minds being blown by the investment so many people seem to have in the whole mess. Sort of a free symphony. The forecast calls for 100% chance of flying stranger bodily fluids, so either park your ass inside or if you really must venture out I suggest a raincoat, umbrella and rubber boots. Oh and lots of Purell.

Anygetitgirl, if the infallible source People says it, it must be true!! Personally, I am happy for her ass. I'm not a mega fan, but she seems nice and harmless, so I have no shade to throw this time. Don't freak out,that's right, I said I have no shade. It's okay. She got screwed long and hard and not in a good way (is that even possible?? moving on) when her last marriage dissolved and now she can stop being the brunt of countless spinster jokes and continue fucking on her now fiance Justin. Piece, at last. Peace, piece, whatever. Both are fucking fantastic if you haven't had it in awhile.

Justin Theroux and Jennifer Aniston are back from publicizing their relationship all over Europe and when they landed in LAX yesterday, she had a diamond ring on her finger. No, the diamond ring wasn't on her hitchin' finger. Jennifer wore the promise ring from her favorite Beanie Baby on that finger. The diamond ring was on her right ring finger and it's got Page Six asking if Justin put it there while proposing to her ass in Europe. Justin might've broken the old, crusty spinster curse an evil witch put on Jennifer Aniston many years ago. Does that mean Angie Jolie is going to turn back into a dragon and all her kids will turn back into cups, candlesticks and clocks? And Jennifer Aniston's Cabbage Patch dolls will turn back into human children? I forget how the fairytale goes.

Page Six also says that Jen and Justin were in Europe to look for places to get married.

That ring don't mean shit, because there's no way Jen is engaged. First of all, as far as I know Maddox hasn't turned into a cup or whatever. Second of all, if Justin did ask Jen to marry him, we'd know all about it before she screamed, "OH MY GOD YES YES LET'S DO IT NOW BEFORE YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND OH GOD GIVE ME YOUR PASSPORT YOU CAN'T LEAVE!"

As soon as Justin pulls out an engagement ring box, Jen will declare a Code: Apocalypse. A traveling midget photographer will jump out of her travel bag, editors from People will parachute in from the sky, and Jen's publicist and a SmartWater rep will set up a backdrop for the photo-op that reads, SmartWater: It Does Miracles! So yeah, the curse lives on!

When you go to the Vatican, there's a sign that tells you to cover up your knees and shoulders or a gang of altar boys will drag you into a room where Mad Mel Gibson will scream at you to blow him for an hour. The walls of the Sistine Chapel don't want to be covered in sin from being exposed to your bare knees and bare shoulders, because:

Child rape: meh.

Bare shoulders and bare knees: Blasphemoso!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Note: Google Translation tells me "bestemmiare" is Italian for blasphemy, but that just doesn't have the dramatic effect I was looking for.)

But rules are rules and apparently, Jennifer Aniston only followed half of the rules when she and Justin continued their European photo-op tour by visiting Vatican City yesterday. When a tour guide took Jen and Justin to the Basilica, she covered her shoulders but kept her knees out. This led The Daily Mail to ask the extremely important question: "Did the Vatican bend the rules for Jennifer?" No, the Vatican didn't bend the rules for Jen's knees. Jen is just a badass motherfucking rebel now that she's with the baddest dude in Bel Air. They break rules, that's just what they do. But seriously...

I went to the Vatican at Christmas times and unfortunately I didn't see Lucifer show himself through exposed knee caps, but I did see some hotter shit. There were these two really trashy and really glamorous "in a Juicy Couture sweatsuits with heels kind of way" tourists shoving through the crowd in front of the giant nativity scene to get to the front. They shoved at me, I shoved at them and then one of them actually shouted, "Get the fuck out of the way, I want to see the Baby Jesus!" Baby Jesus has been gifted with gold, frankincense and myrrh, but the greatest gift he ever got was the gift of the fuck word from two pieces of trash.

"Aaaaaand 1...2.. flash that ring to give Star Magazine a photo for their next 'JEN & JUSTIN ENGAGED!' cover story" is what Jennifer Aniston said to herself 4 seconds before this picture was taken. Nobody said that whoring for tabloid stories isn't hard work.

Before Justin Theroux flew to France with Jennifer Aniston in a private plate, checked into the finest hotel in Paris, ate the finest meals at the finest restaurants and took the finest shit in the finest toilet in Europe, he was in L.A. at the premiere of that Rock of Ages (aka the propaganda film secretly titled The Tommy Girl Really Does Love Pussy Movie), which he co-wrote. You'd think that the reporters at the premiere would ask the rockabilly Eddie Munster about his writing process and if it's true that the style of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was his inspiration for the line "I just threw up in my pants," but no. (Side note: Yes, the style of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle has inspired me to write about butt batter all day.) They asked him about Jennifer Aniston instead. Go figure. Justin said this shit when Extra brought up Aniston:

"Could not be happier. I always go to bed thinking I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

It's like he siphoned those words straight out of a multi-millionaire lottery winner's mouth! Not counting the hos who are about to put a spoonful of Burger King's bacon sundae in their mouth, this bitch is the luckiest dude in the world. Justin is soon going to live in a $21 million Bel Air mansion, he rests his skull every night on a pillow stuffed with cashmere-wrapped baby swan feathers, can take an elevator down to the Cabbage Patch nursery in his basement, has the most energetic b-hole ever from washing his asshole on a SmartWater bidet AND he's with a woman with impeccable fashion sense. I'm talking about those jeans and that Operation wishbone piece necklace. Aniston wears that necklace to remind her of all the special Saturday nights she spent playing Operation with her Beanie Babies. (SPOILER ALERT: The BBs won every game.) So of course, Justin is lucky. I bet his anus lips are shaped like a four-leaf clover.

Yeah, "Therouxiston" doesn't really work as a couple name. I know the whole celebwhore couple name thing is something that should've been buried deep in the Internet cemetery marked 2008, but I'm an old-fashioned blogger who likes to stick with traditions and shit. I've heard the names JenStin, AniRoux and JustiFer, but none of those have stuck with me. Maybe JustAnis or AnisTheroux? AnisTheroux almost sounds like "anus throw up," and Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux do remind me of butt discharge for some reason. AnisTheroux it is!

Jennifer and Justin strut all around Paris today, because nothing sells a movie and kills a break-up rumor like hand-holding on le ho stroll. Fire up the BREAKING NEWS siren, because Jennifer wore almost the same outfit two days in a row. When Jennifer and Justin landed at the airport yesterday, she wore BAGGY rolled-up jeans. And for her strut through Paris this morning, she wore TIGHTER rolled-up jeans. What does it all mean, besides the fact that she has shit taste in jeans? I'm sure in the next issue of Star Magazine, an expert will say that Jen changing jeans is a secret message to Brad Pitt.

I actually like the baggy jeans better, because from the waist down it makes her like the Cabbage Patch boy doll I had in preschool. And that shit is fitting.