I don't care how funny you were in Kalifornia...you're an asshole

I'm having a hard time forcing myself to work today. Shh! Don't tell anyone, because like, I'm actually at work and though I'm comfortable with my "look, you haven't given me a decent raise in 4 years so I'm gonna write my blog from work and yalls can just suck it" philosophy, I still know I shouldn't do it. I know that I'm a bad, bad girl.
I've just got so much going on in my mind. What with Jenn telling Vanity Fair that Brad had "emotionally" left her for Angelina Jolie...and like, the break up had nothing to do with Jenn not wanting kids because she, in fact planned to start "trying" this summer. She even burst into tears mid interview when asked if she had heard the rumor of Brad knockering up ol' Jolie and thus solidified my putting them both on my shitlist. The weird thing is I don't even like Jennifer Aniston that much. I think she's cute and she can be all right in stuff, but why am I feeling so protective? Maybe it's the woman thing...maybe I just can't stand the thought that he's running around rubbing his attraction for another woman all up in her and our collective grills. I mean, what is it with stupid actors thinking they have to follow every stupid impulse they have? So, you're attracted to this girl with an 18 inch waste and gigantular tits...who isn't? She's a total freak of nature. If someone told me that Anthony Michael Hall and his creepy little friend created her on their 1984 macintosh, I'd believe it.

So, to you Brad Pitt, I say "put your titty back up!"