Have you missed the Jolie-Pitt family’s unique styles since they’ve been abroad? Screen-printing, Justin Bieber’s old haircut, Angelina’s weekend-Maleficent clothes … I haven’t even missed judging them.
I can’t believe we ever let these people become celebrities.
Natalie Portman’s baby looks surprised to find himself at a public park. I understand you, Aleph. I never go to places where other children touch things without latex gloves and a tetanus booster.
WELCOME HOME. I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT BE IN A BAD MOOD FROM WORKING SO HARD SO I CREATED MANY FUN SURPRISES FOR YOU ALL OVER THE HOUSE.
SEVERAL SURPRISES WERE MADE INSIDE MY OWN BODY, WHICH IS VERY CLOSE TO MY HEART, SPATIALLY.
SEVERAL OTHERS ARE ART PROJECTS I MADE USING SIMPLE HOUSEHOLD ITEMS LIKE YOUR TRASH, THE FLAVORLESS MARSHMALLOW STUFF INSIDE THE COUCH, AND THE CONTENTS OF THE PANTRY.
THANK YOU FOR NOT SHUTTING THE PANTRY DOOR, BY THE WAY. THERE WERE SO MANY USEFUL ART SUPPLIES IN THERE.
Well, now I feel bad. Jennifer Garner got flustered on Ellen earlier this week, finding herself unable to quickly provide her children’s names and ages, and sharing stories that made her and Mr. Affleck sound like the hillbilly parents we know they kind of are.
But when Ellen jokingly called her out on it, Jennifer said, “Talk to Brad and Angie, they seem to have it together… I call my kids Shiloh sometimes.”
I know I give this family a lot of grief, but Shiloh Jolie-Pitt is on a completely different plane of disgrace than the Afflecks. No one, not even Violet, deserves to be called Shiloh.
I negotiated with Tokyo while simultaneously wearing five different shades of pink at once. Perfectly.
Katie’s big project of the day was that poncho.
For those of you looking to add a little shine to your invitations without all the “bling,” I recommend trying what’s called foil stamping. It’s perfect for those who love a touch of shimmer and want to add a more dressed-up elegance to their wedding invitations. One of my favorite techniques is…
I object. Everytime I think I’m over you, I become that girl who pictures her wedding and you’re still the guy waiting at the end of the aisle.
Seven years built up such expectations, painting you like a saint. But I was willing to accept you for who you are. You just wouldn’t accept me.