Why Brad and Angelina Got Divorced: "Having a White Baby Traumatized Me"

It's not official until I say it's official, so now I'm saying it's official: Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are done; stick a fork in it. After betraying Jennifer Aniston in 2005 by divorcing her and saying, "I think we should just be... FRIENDS." then being seduced by Angelina Jolie on the set of Mr. and Mrs. Smith, sweet delicious karma has struck again like the bitch she is, and has said ixnay on the arriagenay. The couples' lives were closely followed by the savage paparazzi, some of whom are actual cannibals that eat human beings. Under the scrutiny of cameras and bloggers, we followed this whirlwind romance from beginning to end, wondering if it would persevere like Billary (Bill and Hillary Clinton mixed, for their strength in magic) or if Brad Pitt would get involved in a weird alien cult like Tom Cruise and force Angelina (who is Katie Holmes [or vice-versa?] in this metaphor) to abide by a made-up religion by a science fiction writer when the whole thing is obviously a huge pile of bullshit.

And by that, I mean Scientology is bullshit. Go ahead, pull my google adsense money OH WAIT I DON'T HAVE ANY. Lick my colossal veiny genitals, you E.T.-fuckers.

Uh.

Why did Hollywood's dynamic duo split, though? After years of blissful marriage, the couple has had many ups and downs. But why? Was it Brad Pitt's propensity to savagely beat Angelina with a wrench? No, ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you a much different account of events. In 2034 or some shit, Angelina Jolie went to Thailand or Cambodia or one of those countries, and adopted Maddox, which is his actual native name. Maddox was beloved by the public and he went on to start "The Best Page In The Universe" on the internet, which now has a Youtube channel, and exclusive t-shirts, not that I'm shilling or anything. I'm just stating facts.

Then Jolie adopted another Chinese kid, and then adopted a black as a child. I mean a negroid child. I'm serious. I mean, I'm not joking. I'm not trying to be racist. I wish I were allowed to use the 'delete' key on my keyboard, and then I wouldn't have to type out embarrassing faux pas such as that. My boss says "No. We want only the rawest, most visceral content on JCG even if it exposes your secret racism and the fact that you're actually a homosexual and need to just admit it and stop lying to yourself. Why are you not married yet? Where's your girlfriend, hm?" and I stick to that mantra even though I'm seriously wondering what would happen if I ever made a typo.

Going back to the story -- the real story here -- according to an ex-bodyguard for the couple, once Angelina Jolie had a white baby with Brad Pitt, she 'felt betrayed'. According to multiple sources close to Jolie, she was severely disappointed that Brad Pitt's sperm produced a caucasian baby and she couldn't handle it. She began channeling her anger into portraits of bowls of fruit, which she painted with acrylic paints, and doing yoga. Over time, her obsession spiraled out of control, and her house was covered in canvases and she was so flexible that she could bend backwards and lick her own pussy on the front-side. Disturbed by Jolie's behavior, Brad Pitt took the kids and stayed at a shelter because he didn't feel safe around her any longer. Enraged by Brad's actions, Angelina went to one of the most exclusive clubs in LA and danced her anger out on the dance floor, and her moves were sensational. Then she took a bunch of pills and washed them down with UV's quesadilla-flavored vodka. Loaded full of drugs and righteous anger, she went home and threw all of Brad's belongings out on the lawn in the rain. When she woke up the next morning, she realized she accidentally went to a stranger's house and threw some random person's belongings out on their front lawn.

The 911 transcript that we obtained through abhorrent and shameful sexual favors reads thusly:

911: Hello, what is your emergency?

Caller [who wants to remain anonymous]: Oh god, help me!

911: Calm down, ma'am. Please tell me what's going on.

Caller: Angelina Jolie is in my house! Oh my god!

911: That's not an emergency. Please don't-

Caller: She's throwing my stuff out of my house! I don't know why she's doing this! NOT THE VASE. THAT HAS MY FATHER'S ASHES! [faint sound of shattering in the background]

Truly horrific. So Brad was like, "I'm outtie. Here, tell these people something they don't know about me." and tossed a microphone into Angelina Jolie's hands. Everyone in the shelter jeered loudly, breaking the awkward silence around Brad's rule-breaking acapella verse. Later on, little Knox Leon (the pale-faced baby) asked his mother, Angelina, "Did you and daddy break up because of me?" sadly. "Yes son." Angelina answered lovingly. They both smiled and Angelina poked his nose. He giggled playfully. "You're so silly, mommy." Knox Leon said.

Why Can't Jen Find Love!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!/1/1//1/1/1/1/1/1/1/

She's America's sweetheart. She has inspired millions and entertained billions. She went down into a well to save a trapped baby. She invented bread. However, when it comes to the affairs of the heart, Jen can't find love.

We all want Jen to find love. To quote astrophysicist Stephen Hawking, "The whole history of science has been the gradual realization that events do not happen in an arbitrary manner, but that they reflect a certain underlying order, which is that Jen might find love." and I concur pertinaciously. A cynical nihilist may assert that the presumed status of Jen's perceived romantic quagmire and our steadfast societal quixotic disposition to absolve Jen of her singlenessicity is floccinaucinihilipilificated. And you probably are thinking that I waited in a leopard-like state to pounce on the opportunity to utilize that word. You're damn right, in that case! But, as for all you Jen-doubters, I would implore you to think outside your dimly-lit box of no intellectual objectivity, anti-Jen-findinglove-ivity, and embrace the universally accepted negative-utilitarianist view that shows that Jen being in a relationship is good for us all.

Perhaps you've seen the rabid paparazzi, (Who have been medically diagnosed with Rabies, possibly early signs of the Rage Virus) exhibiting photos of Jen being single in public, which only work to exacerbate Jen's almost-certain distress concerning the fact that she's going to die alone in an apartment filled with cats and empty ice cream cartons while attempting a highly advanced Yoga pose. If you've seen such photos and maintain your insistent insouciance towards Jen, then you are not human. You're an alien or a centaur or something. Suppose you were single for a long time after dating someone who received the prestigious "hottest person in the world award" from ugly fat gay men. That would be absolutely fucked up, wouldn't it? I rest my case.

Now that we've establishment beyond a reasonable doubt that Jen needs love, then we now need to assess why Jen can't find love. A theory circulated by certain underground sources suggested that perhaps that behind the scenes, Jen is an erratic emotional mess, and expresses herself primarily through bitchiness. This theory is obvious bullshit. I don't even want to hear that shit.

So I did what Perez Hilton does: I went to the salons with gay guys, because all the hottest celebz (With a z) go in there to get their hair and make-up done by the gays, and they gossip to each other as the gays secretly listen. Perez Hilton then slips in the back door(If you know what I mean) and gets the scoop from the hair stylists (If you know what I mean). I did precisely this, and I heard from an unnamed source that Jen is enjoying being single. Upon hearing such motherfucking bullshit, I slapped him across the face and walked out indignantly. I'm still working on finding out why Jen can't find love, but I have a lot of secret sources who are currently being interrogated by Dick Cheney in a black site, so I'm certain that I will be able to deliver some answers to the American Public soon.

Godspeed!

What a month...

It's been quite a rough month for me personally, but also as a professional stalkerazzi. The amount of juicy celeb info I've been able to obtain has been greatly reduced by my frequent doctor visits, and taking medications, then switching medications, then changing the medication dosages.

Like, dang.

The Hot Girl of the Week is becoming more like "Hot Girl of the Month", and to be honest, if I did it weekly, I'd probably run out really fast, and then end up having to feature Jennifer Aniston or someone that everyone is sick of.

Yes, I'm thrilled with Jennifer Aniston's amazing weight loss, but c'mon. C'mon. Friends was canceled years ago. She divorced Brad Pitt years ago. What does she have left? NOTHING. NOTHING, I SAY. It's OVER, Aniston!! YOU HEAR ME, OVARRRRRR.

On a side note, I wanna just, like, say that I think, like, it was like totally wrong and uncool of Brad to leave Jennifer for Angelina. I mean, c'mon. C'mon. The thing about Angelina Jolie, is, to be honest, she looks kind of weird, like she's part reptilian. Now, I know it's possible that the Reptilians are scouting out planet Earth for when Tiamat (aka Niburu is coming aka Planet X) crosses paths with Earth in 2012, leading to an all-out interstellar conflict that will end all of humanity. I'm fairly sure Brad is aware of this information, however, for reasons unknown to us, has chosen to ignore it. Perhaps he believes that if he finds favor with the Lizard-beings, that they will have mercy and spare him instead of sending him to their death factories to be ground into a hamburger-like food substance. This, of course, is folly. And that, my friends, is why Brad was totally wrong to leave Jen.