When I think of Jennifer Aniston, I think of the successful actress with the courage to lie about being topless in movies and to set up a bunch of fake romantic relationships with her co-stars to show that she’s still a highly desirable woman. Gerard Butler was once told he was hot and heavy with Jennifer in L.A. while he was in Paraguay banging seventeen girls who thought they were in a modeling competition to get the fuck out of Paraguay. As rock solid as she may be, Jennifer Aniston has never confronted her humiliation at losing her husband to Angelina Jolie’s fun time vagina. I don’t think Angelina even has that fun time vagina anymore. It was removed in one of her pre-cog surgeries. But Jennifer still panics every time she thinks about running into Brad Pitt and Angelina and being forced to converse. Which is going to happen in September when George Clooney gets married for no good reason with invites to both Brad and Jennifer. You can’t just skip a Clooney wedding. That’s the shit. So Jennifer has hired a ‘confidence coach’ and a hypnotherapist to help her face The Other Woman who stole her man dick.
At the wedding, she’ll have Justin there for support, but the thought of seeing Brad and Angelina is quite overwhelming. The therapist has been helping to build her confidence and eliminate the fear she seems to have built about coming face-to-face with them.
Jen’s worried she’ll get spinach stuck in her teeth or trip on her heels and knock over Rosemary Clooney’s ashes or something horribly publicly embarrassing. The therapy is just one step. Jen’s also going to marry her boyfriend a month before the Clooney wedding so she can pretend she didn’t just do that just to impress Brad. It’s complicated being a woman. Men get stiflingly nervous too at these events, but we just drink way too much and sleep with the bridesmaid with the funky palate. It’s so much easier than therapy. And cheaper.