Let's be an Angelina Jolie interview

I'm the bones about to burst through the skin.

I'm the tortured Cambodian kids disguised as depth of empathy.

R2 funny. True.

I' m the giant vein pulsing in her forehead.

We are tears and we will make several strategic appearances during sociopathy-heavy anecdotes.

I'm the defeated maid, Hortensia.

I am the cup of tea that Angelina always has to demonstrate her undeniable passion for food.

I am Angie's case of Bell's Palsy.

I'm Jennifer Aniston laughing and rolling my eyes as I read it.

LOL to all.

I'm the setting--a unfurnished and unkempt home, which seems like a bizarre choice for someone so private until you realize the children can strategically pop in an out to remind everyone just who the real DEDICATED parent is around here.

I'm the rhinoplasty

I'm People magazine on speed dial.

I'm the shower where she cries

We're the scissors she uses to cut Shiloh's hair. This is what happens when you name your kid after a Neil Diamond song.

We're truth and honesty, and we're not there.

I'm the talent that's just not there

I'm the director that she hired to create the scene and rehearse the kids and dog before the reporter arrived.

I'm the nanny who actually raises the kids. Like truth, honesty, and talent, I too, was told to take a powder.

I'm the body parts Angie had surgically removed.

I'm the DL poltergeist who posted R19's response before R19 actually hit the "post" button. I do this all the time.

I'm Brad Pitt and I'm glad I'm escaped this mess. I'm also Jonny Lee Miller and Billy Bob Thornton.

I'll Bell's Palsey. I'm really caused by the swelling of a nerve due to infection, but Angelina has been touting my cause as her ubiquitous stress.

I'm the phantom pain of the tits she had cut off. I get especially sharp when she tells lies.

I'm the loop of "minimally talented spoiled brat" repeating endlessly in the back of Angelina's mind as she tries to ignore me.

R25 has the best comment ever.

Being a minimally talented spoiled brat is better than being an untalented one like Brad Pitt's first wife.

I'm Jon Voight, aghast at what I'm watching on my giant TV, and taking swigs from a bottle of Absolut.

I'm Brad's empty bottles under the sofa.

I'm the shitty film she's there to promote.

Because her last legitimately good movie was...umm...uh...?

I'm the live tarantula Angie's going to eat for lunch.

I'm the razor Angie cuts herself with.

I'm the awkward silence.

I'm Angie's vajayjay. Could someone please get me out of here? No deserves to go through what I've been through. I haven't been washed in a decade!

I'm the six invisible nannies. We are not allowed to be mentioned in the article.

I am a throw pillow scorned.

I'm the endless virtue signaling.

i am her lying eyes.

I'm the needles in the trash can.

I'm the hidden Box Set Complete Series DVDs of Friends.

I'm the patches under the couch, the bed, cushions, and behind the bin, after the fentanyl's been extracted.

I'm the blank stare given Shiloh as she's placed in Angie's arms shortly after birth.

I'm the Pantone color chart and Adoption for Dummies book removed from the coffee table and replaced with something literary for the photo-spread.

I'm the answer to the question about her upcoming projects: "Yes, Babu BoZwela's book spoke to me as so few do..."

I'm also the conveniently forgotten Kung-Fu Panda 5: Fart of Fire.

I'm the too-long sleeves being pulled over Miss Jolie's wrists and hands.

What secrets do I hide? None.

I'm the faint feeling the reader gets that Shiloh will someday need thousands of dollars worth of therapy.

I'm the wire hangars and glass of Pepsi.

I'm Cecil B. DeMille's mansion. I'm a historic property of 8000 sq ft on 2 acres, require a full retinue of staff for daily upkeep and maintenance, and yet my owner says I was bought merely because she needed a quick roof over her head.

I'm Brad, reading the interview and realizing Justin Theroux never would've had to put up with this melodrama.

I'm the mention of an environmental effort Miss Jolie was involved in to help drought-ridden Somalis. I'm placed awkwardly below a photo of her home:

No Friends boxsets ever! What's a Friends boxset doing in this closet when I told you NO FRIENDS BOXSETS EVER!!!

I'm the Oscar placed casually in the background between a Vietnamese wooden vase and a children's finger painting by... eh... one of them.

I'm the interviewer trying to suppress her laughter as Miss Jolie responds with: "I'm really a simple liver, you see."

I'm the process of dispatching on interviewer from Vanity Fair HQ:

I am the long, thin, and bottle-dyed to cover grey- hair that gives away my age and level of health

I'm the botched immortality spell that keeps the corpse animated and talking.

I'm Photoshop. For this pictorial, I drew upon every technique I have to make this dru--err, I mean, Bell's Palsy victim--look less like Vampira. But even I can only do so much.

Why am I reading this and thinking Patsy Stone imagining her Hello spread?

I'm Angie excusing herself to the bathroom for a moment

*snort, snort*

I am Jon Voight and I am so glad I got off that crazy train.

I'm the bit of Angie's memory working hard to recall which one's Max, and who's Paddocks?

I'm the dried-up vial of Billy Bob Thornton's blood in Angie's jewelry box.

R58 it's hard to believe Angie's only 39!

No way R63, she's way past 40 by now. Isn't she? I thought she was 40 back when she did The Tourist.

I'm Patsy Stone (32) shocked that any actress might lie about their age.

R65 OMG TWINSIES?

I'm the pretentious article title -- maybe something simple and bold like: "A Tortured Soul: Inside Angelina Jolie"

I'm the water slide that one of the kids happened to ask for right on cue. I've already been forgotten.

I'm r27, Angelina's manager's unpaid intern.

I'm the fact that none of Angie's child purchases were actually orphans.

We are the nannies that are raising these hellians

I'm... ...surprised that no one has yet posted the Barbara Bennett scene from MOMMIE DEAREST.

[quote] No Friends boxsets ever! What's a Friends boxset doing in this closet when I told you NO FRIENDS BOXSETS EVER!!!

Would you prefer [italic]DIff'rent Strokes[/italic]?

I'm the pose that's supposed to look both wistful yet sultry but mostly just looks like she's strung out.

*juts out right leg*

I'm the poor Cambodian woman wondering if I'll ever see my child again.

I'm the strand of pearls in her mouth.

I'm the ghost of Mr Ed nuzzling at the top of her cleavage in a saucy GQ shoot she's completely forgotten about in an opioid daze.

I'm the dog who keeps shitting around the house. It's not that I'm a bad dog, it's that I'm scared to death of these people! I really think one of them might try to hurt me if they catch me! Also, this house has like 67 rooms and I can't find my way to the doors. Help!!!

I'm the creepy Native American, uh, First Nation winged incisors that braces and veneers cannot hide.

Hey there! It's me, the blind item that revealed Brad was sleeping with Corey Haim. The very next day after I appeared there was a blowout on the private plane that ended their union. Coincidence, I think not.

I'm the small stack of bios slipped under the cushion of the couch on the far side of the solarium, which contains photos of my next "love match."

Tammy Cruise is not among them.

Got a gig as an extra in her movie bomb 'By The Sea'. That's me fake talking and trying not to laugh during her dance scenes. Notice the faces I can't help making? Thought I would burst. Participation in this narcissistic shit fest led to me getting my SAG card. Double win-for me only.

TY R 82!

I'm the beaded bracelet around her wrist. Took only 12 beads to complete me. I laugh at that watch that slides down to her elbow because she was too lazy to have some links removed. EMBARRASSING!

I'm Mindy Cohn and I'm rumored to be godparent to one or more Jolie-Pitt kids.

I'd drink swill out of one of Angelina's size 12 pumps if she asked me to.

Good day. I'm the petty royal yet still nobility she tried to swindle to finally become a lady. I'm merely a viscount but have been forewarned by Her Majesty to just make nice and then blow off. Not going to lose my position and Manor estate for rescuing a trollup and her litter, now would I?

R86, no! Tell. Tell right now and dammit, link!

Must the shoe be a beige, nude pump? Size 11?

We are the rubber mat and S&M fetish gear that hide behind the Universal Mother's cosy domesticity

Yo, what up? I'm a vintage '73 Piper snuggled next to a Cessna in this hangar waiting for a storm to pass. Tomorrow one of us will be utilized in flying lessons or skydiving. I used to be used as a prop by Angelina Jolie who pretended to actually be Lara Croft in real life. They'd always position me at an angle that hid the actual, true pilot. She could never land me. Had a short attention span and no self identity, just like Brad Pitt!

Salut, mes Amis. Je m'appel Miraval. I didn't sign an NDA, so ask moi anything. The moat has dried up. Trés sec maintenant.

I'm the pinot noir grape used in a combination with others to make their average blush wine. They eventually sold parts of me for $7 a bottle. Not a good season for the privileged White grape, that year.

I'm angies donkey teeth.

I'm the lampshade made out of the flesh that covered here tits before she had them cut off.

Hahaha R95. Dying!

I happen to be Zahara's envy over the white aryan kids and the Asian kids. I'm not black, I'm rotten puss green.

I'm the old racist slur that pops up into Grandpa Voight's mind every time he strains to greet Zahara. I rhyme with 'fig-a-zoo'.

Great work guys. Thanks to you a great thread. Crying laughing.

I'm the dozens of orchids, wet towels, black rubber sheets, sex toys, and various body fluids(plus semi-fluids and solids), left in a hotel room by Angie and her "tutor", for the minimum waged maid to clean up. Pre-interview contracts forbid questions about incidents like me, so I'll stay out of here and go sit with the facts about Angie's "adoptions".

R100, you sound like you could start your own thread!

I love this thread

Why, R102? R100 sounds like one of those obsessed Angelina Jolie haters. Weird.

I'm the tattoos that try to give meaning to an empty, meaningless life, but in reality don't, and will probably get lasered off at the first sign of a perfume house that doesn't want to use her for ads anymore because she looks like an old sailor.

R103 because It's funny

I'm her secret lover that politician woman

I'm Steve Buscemi

I'm Angelina's beard and Thom Racina's whore

I'm the self-obsessed vulgarity, oozing through every pore

Im last nights syringe of juvaderm

I'm the crate loads of dexies hidden under the basement stairs in UNICEF packaging.

;;;;

OMG! This thread almost made me piss my pants w/ laughter!! How’d I miss this GEM???

I'm the embarrassing veil Angie wore for her marriage to Brad. She let the kids loose on me with sharpies. I'm balled up in a closet in one of the kids' playrooms. They like to wear me sometimes when they play "wedding" with their friends---oops, I mean with each other. They don't have any real friends.

[post redacted because linking to dailymail.co.uk clearly indicates that the poster is either a troll or an idiot (probably both, honestly.) Our advice is that you just ignore this poster but whatever you do, don't click on any link to this putrid rag.]

I'm the flurry of hotel stationery strewn about the room. I contain four illegible "screenplays" penned over the last week. I reek of meth and unabashed insanity.

I'm the starvation induced dizzy spells; but Angie thinks of me as "Euphoria."

I’m sense of humor. I am absent from AJ’s existence.

I'm the slobbering post on Celebitchy following the interview

I'm her brother James tied up in her boudoir, hoping Angie doesn't mention anything about my presence to the interviewer.

I am her stinking puss that no one will touch

I am what’s left of her career, slowly going down the shitter

I'm her famous lips and I get smothered every 5 minutes with collagen-based oils to keep me looking extra plump and youthful.

I'm the rhinoplasty performed after Cyborg 2 but before Hackers. I'm sworn to secrecy because of my NDA.

R104 Speaking of which, Guerlain is going to drop her.

More! This thread is gold!

I’m her carefully low and modulated speaking tone, offering up pat, scripted answers.

I'm the disingenuous international humanitarian efforts to cover the fact that I left a sociopathic trail of bad behavior in my wake in America.

I'm one of her kids. In numerous interviews, she brags about me being multi-lingual. In reality, I am barely literate in one language.

R107 I'm their love child Bill Skarsgaard.

I'm the boring Angelina

I'm her jaw implant

I’m her lips below her hips.

I'm her pancake butt

I’m all her heroin tracks on her frail body.

I’m Mindy Cohn, doing everything I can to get noticed. I’m supposed to be keeping the kids in their wing, but what would it hurt if I walked past the door whistling the theme song from “The Facts of Life”?...

I'm her in the director;s chair waiting to get recognized as a serious director, instead of an actress because I'm beneath that now.

Omg this is too much. Please bring back to life this thread

Most brilliant thread ever. It’s hard for me to cry from laughing and I had to stop several times because of this thread. Please guys, more, I need more. DLers deserve more.