ANGELINA: It's so nice to see you.
J.LO: Oh, Brad's Lady Person, me duele. This pains me, because I would like to say the same, but I cannot.
ANGELINA: Excuse me?
J.LO: It is clear nobody taught you how to have twins.
ANGELINA: I... what?
J.LO: Look at you in that black thing. I cannot see your boobs. What is the point of getting fat for nine months if you can't make people stand in awe of your hotness when you are fit again?
ANGELINA: Because kids are great? I plan to collect them all!
J.LO: Ah, yes, I love my little tiny tots. But I also love my giant tots -- the ones on my chest. I HYPNOTIZE with them. Try to look away. YOU CANNOT. This is what you must achieve, Angennifer.
ANGELINA: You're mixing me up with...
J.LO: Oh, whatever. You, the Anistperson, it's all the same. You both always wear black. Blah blah blah. You must take a lesson from me, Pitt twig! Lay it all out there! Your boobs are like God's tattoos. They have MEANING. MAKE PEOPLE LOOK. Can it with the sad strapless sheaths. Mis ojos, they burn with shame for your lack of FLASH.
ANGELINA: Thanks for the advice.
J.LO: I mean, LOOK AT ME. Behold:
Continue reading The Fugious Fug of Benjamin Button/Well Played, J.Lo.
