Call them Vaughniffer, call them Vaughniston, call them Brangelina, But Not Nearly As Hot And Without All The Charity Crap, call them Hey, Brad, I Can Fuck My Co-Star Too! Brad? Brad?!, call them whatever. Us Weekly is reporting that Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston are engaged (shouldn't the Jen Says Yes line go below the VINCE PROPOSES! line? Where's our spoiler alert?) after a year of conveniently timed courtship occasionally marked by the suspiciously public performance of pantomime of sex airplanes and sessions of man-on-man cardio work. The Us blog mentions that Vaughn proposed on the private jet ride on the way back from Joe Francis' Mexican resort—nothing solidifies a relationship like nine glorious days at the Compound That Drunken, Jailbait Titties Built—and that "Vince almost cries whenever he tells the story of the proposal," an egregiously emasculating statement for which his publicist should immediately be fired.
We now return you to all of your long-held doubts about the authenticity of the couple's relationship.