As Brad Pitt silently cried for help with his eyes, Angie Jo fed the whore pit vipers crawling under her skin (yeah, those aren't veins) by sucking the pieces of his good shit-soaked soul that are clinging to his insides for dear life. You know, I'm all for shamelessley Angie succubus-ing Brad in front of everyone, but while she was that close to him she should've used her fangs to chew most of his mop off. Not only would eating Brad's strands of grease give Angie some much needed nutrients, but then he wouldn't look like he's a Taco Party Pack and a Miley grope away from being Bradley Ray Cyrus. One would think that a dude would do whatever he can to keep Tish Cyrus from wanting to wet ride him until her cock eye busts into place.
And it warms my soul knowing that Angie's stylist kept their lips shut when they stood back, looked at this and thought to themselves: "This bitch literally looks like a bag of bones." Seriously, somewhere there's a trash can missing its bag and a pair of chopsticks who are feeling all sorts of inadequate while looking at Angie's arms. I bet that dress smells like cold death, dried tar and black licorice.
Here's more of St. Morticia, Brad, his true soulmate George Clooney and Stacy Keibler at the SAGs last night.
Prepare yourself to know what it feels like to never trust anything that comes out of Brad Pitt's mouth again (because I know that up until this point you hugged every word that came out of Brad Pitt's mouth with warm arms of trust). Brad Pitt has regularly declared before the gay gods (aka a sculpture of Rojo Caliente riding a Liberace unicorn centaur down a flannel rainbow) that he will never slip a wedding band on Angie Jo's bony finger until everybody in the U.S. can get married. Well, the bitch is a teller of lies.
As you and your same-sex partner wait at City Hall until it's legal for you to file a marriage certificate, the asshole who vowed to stand with you until the end will whisk on by with his zombie vampira skeleton bride and cut in front of the line. RIGHT IN YOUR BETRAYED FACE. Because Brad tells The Hollywood Reporter that he's probably going to break his promise by becoming Angie's third husband:
"We’d actually like to, and it seems to mean more and more to our kids. We made this declaration some time ago that we weren’t going to do it till everyone can. But I don’t think we’ll be able to hold out. It means so much to my kids, and they ask a lot. And it means something to me, too, to make that kind of commitment.
I’m not going to go any further. But to be in love with someone and be raising a family with someone and want to make that commitment and not be able to is ludicrous, just ludicrous.”
I'm going to force myself to not get hypnotized by the fact that Brad's goatee looks like an upright grandpa stache and an upside-down grandpa stache holding hands over a soul patch, because there's more important matters at hand (not really). Brad has just proven that he cares about keeping his commitments as much as he cares about finding a shampoo for extra oily hair. (Seriously, Brad, it's not hard. Just ask someone at Sally's Beauty.) If Brad rips the notary stamp off the promise he made to gays and gayelles, how can Angie Jo trust that he won't rip the notary stamp off the marital bowels (Oh, Freud, I love it when you trip me) he makes to her? Oh, wait.
"There's a taxi waiting outside for you, sweetie" is the line that slipped off of George Clooney's tongue to Stacy Keibler at the Critics Choice Awards in L.A. last night after Brad Pitt hobbled in saint-less. It was a brodate at the CCAs! Just look at those pictures of Brad making the silver hairs in George's ears quiver by whispering into it. Try to tell me that Brad and George's chemistry is not shooting an Atlantic Starr into your head.
Anyway, Brad showed up alone last night, because Angie Jolie was off doing a live web chat with Marie Claire to promote In the Blood and Honey (click here to see the live chat with a cameo by Maddox...sort of). During the Q&A, Angie confessed that right before her first day of directing, she slowly melted down in the shower like Jennifer Aniston when she finds out that she's out of uncooked cookie dough-scented body wash.
"I had a complete emotional breakdown in the shower and Brad found me crying. I felt this huge responsibility and I felt very small. 'Who am I to take this on?'
I didn't plan to become a director, and I still have trouble saying I'm a director. I just wanted to tell this story and I ended up by default being the director. It was a pleasure, but I wonder if it would be a pleasure with another cast and crew, and a subject matter that wasn't so special."
Oh, please. The real reason Angie shriveled into a puddle of frightened emotions and almost slipped down the drain is because a drop of Suave Strawberry Smoothie shampoo accidentally fell in her mouth and eating the extra calories scared her. Angie didn't feel small. She felt HUUUUUGEEEEE! But seriously, Angie's shower time breakdown got Brad Pitt into the shower finally, so it's a good thing it happened. The next time the Pig-Pen in your life refuses to bathe, just have a mental breakdown in the shower and he'll come running to your rescue before he realizes you're about to drop a soap bomb on him.
Scientists who study the shedding process of constipated snakes shouted "I know that look!" last night when St. Angie Jolie tried to POSE FOR HER LIFE at last night's 77th Annual New York Film Critics Award Gala. As Brad Pitt, who won Best Actor for Moneyball and Tree of Naps, hobbled along, Angie looked like a smug mouse getting swallowed by a mongoose (some Rikki-Tikki-Tavi shit) when she tried to bless the mere mortals with her holy sexyfaces. Bless this saint and her sexyfaces, because I'm pretty sure Brad Pitt knows what's going on behind her and is trying to tell her that this scene has already been won. I declare the victor:
Harriet Potter: 1
St. Angie: NIL!
For coming in second place, Angie wins a chair to have a permanent seat in! Oh, don't worry, the chair is actually a throne from the ruins of the Holy Temple and it's been cleansed in lamb blood, so she'll feel completely at home.
The Brangie/Aniston fan fiction written in tabloids has officially swirled into a hyperbole of hot-blooded fuckery and sluts just don't give a fuck anymore. They will splatter anything on their pages.
Remember that story about how Sue Mengers advised Jennifer Aniston to get Brad Pitt's sperm when he dropped her for Angie Jolie? I just knew that one of the tabloids would spin it into something truly fucktastic and they didn't let me down. Star stepped up and spun out this tragic tale of how Angie temporarily left Brad after finding out that he once made a baby with Jennifer Aniston. It all started when Angie asked Brad about the Sue Mengers story and he tried to deny it, but later he admitted that Jen got pregnant for a second in 2004 and quickly miscarried. Angie had a skeleton fit, because she wants to be the only one with ovaries touched by Brad's sperm. Basically, Angie has a greedy uterus. The source (aka an intern with a creative writing degree who was drunk on fermented fruitcake at the time) said this:
“He had never told Angie this before. She had assumed all along that she was the only woman Brad had ever impregnated. Now Angie is questioning everything, including whether she can ever trust Brad again.
Brad doesn’t tell Angie everything, especially when it comes to Jen. The mention of Jen makes Angie completely irrational. But he never imagined this would infuriate Angie to the extent that it has. Now it could spell the end of them forever.”
If this story was translated into Spanish and you sprinkled a few "lárgates" on it, you'd have the script for the best novella ever. But it gets better. The National Enquirer says that you're about to see the image of a knocked up saintly skeleton, because Angie has a 3-month-old fetus in her ethereal womb.
In a startling development, the screen sexpot and papa Brad Pitt are getting the best New Year’s present of all – a surprise pregnancy.
Sources reveal the thrilled Oscar winner is three months along and now she can’t hide her telltale belly bump.
“Brad and Angie are ecstatic,” an insider told The ENQUIRER.
“They’ve been trying to conceive for most of the year. It was always their goal to have another biological baby, and they want to adopt at least one more down the line. But at 36, Angie’s biological clock has been ticking.”
“With all of Angie’s medical woes lately, she and Brad consider it a blessing and a miracle that she was able to conceive,” revealed the insider. “Angie had a very rough first trimester and struggled to keep weight on,” noted a close source.
“But she’s put on weight over the holidays, stuffing herself with meats and fruits. She’s completely committed to staying healthy for the sake of her family, but she needs to gain more weight to keep her baby healthy.”
You can't make this shit up! Oh wait, they just did. No, no, both of these stories are about as factual as factual as factual as factual can be. I believe every word of them. I also believe that what I wrote in my Sue Mengers post is as factual as factual can be. Jennifer Aniston took one of her own ovaries, fertilized it with Brad's donated sperm and somehow got it into Angie's greedy uterus. Angie is carrying Jennifer and Brad's love child! And my 2012 will officially be made when the nurse hands Angie the child and a stream of liquid revenge bursts out of her bulging forehead vein as the new baby says to her, "Uncooooooo."
The late Sue Mengers was a major agent in Hollywood who once represented Barbra Streisand and in her later years she threw all kinds of fancy as fuck parties where she made friends with famous hos like Jennifer Aniston. In a profile on Sue for The New York Times, Maureen Dowd writes that even Sue didn't want Jennifer to be Forever Aloneistone. When Brad dropped Jen off in MiserableVille (Population: Aniston) to enlist in St. Angie's holy army, Sue gave her a drop of advice:
But she had a soft, warm side; she was a yenta who loved fixing people up, in work and in love. If a match struck, she would urge the woman, “We have to close the deal.” After Brad Pitt left Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie, Mengers told me that she advised her beloved Jen to ask Brad for some of his sperm.
You know shit is dire when someone you aren't related to is concerned that you're going to become a dusty, crazy old spinster who doesn't think it's weird that her bedside tables are made out of the skeletons of her dead cats.
Sue did give Jen good advice, though. Jen should've taken it and then took that shit ten steps further. Jen should've fertilized one of her own eggs with Brad's stoner jizz. Then Jen should've yelled "MARRIED A-LIST MOVIE STAR 12 O'CLOCK!" at Angie Jolie to make that trick instinctively spread her legs. That would've been Jen's cue to shoot that fertilized egg into Angie's cooch with a straw. And nine months later, Angie would've given birth to Jen and Brad's baby! Jen could've named that kid: SWEET REVENGE!!!!!! (exclamations included). Oh, Jen, you should've done it. Jen missed an opportunity to put her mouth to Angie's ear and whisper: "Guess who's baby just came out of your twat? Mine, bitch!"
And yes, I've been watching old Days of Our Lives episodes again.
Soap, marital vows, eating nutrients and 99% of the colors on the color wheel are just a few of the things that confuse Brad Pitt and St. Angie Jo, and now you can add Amazon.com to that list. On a recent night down in the bowels of their chateau, Brad and Angie hunched over their desktop Gateway computer and poked at the keyboard while trying to figure out how to drag shit from their wish list to their cart and what is this doshgarnit 1-click ordering thingamajig? AMAZON.COM: How does it work?!
“I always Christmas shop early in case we have to travel somewhere. Brad and I were on Amazon.com for the first time a week ago. But we got lost. After an hour, we just shut it off. My brain is too scattered and the wires go in different directions. I’ll stick to catalogs.”
Let me sum up that entire quote for you in 3 words: BITCHES WERE STONED! Oh fucking well, I guess this year Maddox is going to get another clothing stamper from Lillian Vernon and finger beams from Oriental Trading Company.
And here's a scene from the near future of Maddox playing dubstep for Brangie:
The In the Land of Blood and Honey had its premiere in NYC last night and just when I was about to type that all these events are solely set up so that St. Angie can show off her vast collection of funeral dresses previously worn by a Golden Girl, the breath from my fingertips was taken by this parbaked meteor of LIPS, BROWS, CORNEAS and HAIRLINE!! crashing onto my screen. James Haven took a break from playing evil tricks on the LazyTown kids, to bring his girlfriend (???) to his lesser than sister's premiere last night. Yes, Mr. & Mrs. Pitt were also there last night (Mr. Pitt is as excited about this movie as I am), but who cares about them when we have James Haven!
James Haven looks like the kind of freak who has been banned from every library for shutting the books on his dick in the aisles. James always has an expression on his face like his peen is in the process of getting smashed (and he doesn't mind it at all) or he just got caught sniffing your armpits while you were taking a nap. We need more of him in this world.
In other highly important news, after weeks of walking by Supercuts' "$15 for a wash & blow" sign, Brad Pitt FINALLY took them up on their offer.