Angelina Jolie Has Diabetes and is Going to Sleep With Me, and Other Proof That God is Dead

Angelina Jolie Has Diabetes and is Going to Sleep With Me, and Other Proof That God is Dead
It seems Angelina Jolie may have been snacking a little too long on the sweet, sweet man candy that is Brad Pitt. She has diabetes, or, as Wilfred Brimley would say, “DIABETUS.” Before you start weeping and gnashing your teeth, you should know that it’s a special kind of Diabetes that only beautiful pregnant actresses can get, it isn’t permanent, and it apparently makes her so glow so vivaciously that Brad Pitt must avert his gaze at all times. Fortunately, doctors say miss Jolie’s affliction can be cured simply through diet and exercise. Judging from the fact that most pregnant women look like they had an allergic reaction to the shellfish section of the buffet and she looks like all it did was make her lips even more
luscious and pouty, I’d say the diet part is firmly in place. As for exercise, I’ve been told my brand of laborious, six-hour lovemaking is one of the best full-body workouts you can get. And unlike some other Cracked bloggers, I have few qualms about banging gorgeous celebrities (as long as we keep the lights off and don’t talk). Come to me, Angelina. The doctor is in, and he’s prepared to work muscles you didn’t even know you had, provided you have only a rudimentary understanding of human anatomy. On the very off chance that Angelina Jolie DOESN’T want to sleep with me to cure her Diabetes, I think we should all put her in our nightly prayers, and trust that God will make her better. Oh wait, I forgot: that ends up killing you and getting your siblings taken away from your crackpot parents by the police, just like this poor kid
. And let’s face it: with names like Shiloh, Maddox, and Pax, the Jolie-Pitt children aren’t going to be welcome in many American homes. I guess it’s down to us fucking, Angie. Man, I’ve never been so happy to find out there wasn’t a God. But don’t worry baby; I’ll make you see Him anyway.
When not blogging for Cracked, Michael fucks the disease out of A-list actresses for pay as head writer and co-founder of Those Aren't Muskets!
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