At a certain point you can squat down and take a shit in front of an intern for the Post and it will be deemed relatable. This is the situation Jennifer Lopez finds herself in. She mumbled some fantastically uninteresting information and had it printed in bold because she has good mammaries:

“I’m still Bronxy. I still wear hoops. I still like to rock sneakers and sweats. I always felt like I was out of place in Hollywood. But I also felt that the street smarts I had from growing up in New York served me well out here.”

Or would serve you well if out here wasn’t just a town full of displaced New Yorkers. You can’t go a block in Hollywood without somebody complaining about how the pizza isn’t like back home because it’s not made with the blood of Howard Beach race war victims. While Lopez’ choice of pants remains fascinating I’m not sure she’s worth the baggage at this point. Those Guatemalan chicks are happy to have close toed shoes and still think ceramic plates are fancy. Fuck this shit. Unless the prenup talks are canceled, I refuse to be her next gay husband.

Photo Credit: Facebook