‘Dealing With' Brad Pitt a ‘Headache' for Angelina Jolie as She Plans a Summer Getaway for 6 Kids
Even though parents Angie, 49, and Brad Pitt separated in 2016, Maddox, 23, Pax, 21, Zahara, 20, Shiloh, 18 and twins Vivienne and Knox, 16, still pal around together as much as possible, but pretty much exclusively with their mom.
'As soon as the twins are done their semester Angelina wants them all to get out of L.A. for a good chunk of the summer,' the source says. 'Where they go is going to depend on her schedule with work. She may have a film over the summer, possibly in Europe, so depending on how things come together they may all relocate there temporarily for the summer.'
Brad, 61, and the Salt actress famously feuded over their co-owned French winery, Château Miraval, and to this day Angie loves to spend time on the continent. She's filmed plenty there and makes sure the kids have tons of exposure to European culture. But the source notes, 'If she doesn't have a shoot, then she would love to go to their place in Cambodia.'
The former A-list couple adopted their oldest, Maddox, from Cambodia and the country holds a special place in Angelina's heart. She's spent plenty of time there both as a United Nations rep and as a filmmaker working on her Khmer Rouge-era movie, First They Killed My Father.
Ultimately, 'She will give the kids a chance to weigh in,' as to where they get to spend their summer. 'If she's not on location for work then they will get the final say on where they all go. That may pose something of a challenge because they've all got different interests, but New York and London are both high on everyone's list.'
The destination may be up in the air, but one thing is for sure: dad Brad will be iced out of the family festivities. As In Touch previously reported, the Troy star's kids have been giving him the cold shoulder since the divorce due to his alleged abuse of their mother.
Though Brad denied the accusations, documents released during the winery fight and Angie's own lawyers accused him of getting physical with her and their children on a private jet in 2016.
A second source previously told In Touch that, 'Right now, all he can do is watch from a distance,' as his large brood moves on to succeed and enjoy family time without him, 'which is very hard.'
The first source suggests that beyond hurt feelings, there may be even more complications with the family's vacation plans, considering Knox and Vivienne are still underage. 'Dealing with Brad and the legal aspect of it all will no doubt pose a headache, but [Angie]'s managed to pull it off every other year, so she's sure it will go ahead.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
USA Today
3 hours ago
- USA Today
Here are our favorite apparel options featured in Peter Millar's 2025 Ryder Cup collection
We're just 60 days away from the loudest, most raucous and entertaining spectacle in all of professional golf. The 2025 Ryder Cup will be held Sept. 23-28 at Bethpage Black in Farmingdale, New York, as the United States side looks to recapture the cup from the European team, who won it in 2023. Before the best players in the world head to the Big Apple, it's time to gear up with official 2025 Ryder Cup apparel from Peter Millar. The brand's Ryder Cup collection features a solid selection of polo shirts and outerwear so you can show your spirit for the game's greatest international competition. Check out some of our top picks below. Shop Peter Millar Ryder Cup collection Peter Millar - 45th Ryder Cup Jubilee Stripe Performance Polo The Ryder Cup emblem pops off this bright red striped Jubilee Performance Polo from Peter Millar. The shirt itself — included in Golfweek's favorite polos of 2025 — features the brand's signature "Summer Comfort" fabric makeup, which wicks moisture away from your body and allows for maximum mobility and stretch, promising a cool and comfy round on the golf course without sacrificing style or class. Peter Millar - 45th Ryder Cup Ryder Reversible Vest For a lot of us, fall weather can be unpredictable. It can be cool and damp in the morning and then warm and sunny in the afternoon. When you're playing golf in conditions like that, you need something versatile. What better way to celebrate fall golf than with a Ryder Cup-branded reversible rest from Peter Millar. This classic-looking piece is half windbreaker, half cozy sweater. One side features water-resistant microfiber material. Flip it around and you have Merino wool. This one is essential for your fall golf wardrobe. Peter Millar - 45th Ryder Cup Stealth Performance Quarter-Zip By the time the Ryder Cup rolls around, we'll be past the hottest months and depending on where you live, the weather could require a little outerwear. If that's the case, the Stealth Performance Quarter-Zip is exactly what you need. It's an ultra-lightweight pullover made from mostly polyester that wicks moisture and provides protection from the sun. It does all of that while looking sharp and fresh. Shop the entire Peter Millar Ryder Cup collection
Engadget
8 hours ago
- Engadget
If you have 90 minutes to spare, play the cyberpunk horror game s.p.l.i.t
s.p.l.i.t is the most badass typing game I've ever played. It's actually more of a hacking simulator, cyberpunk thriller and puzzle experience than a typing game, but its core loop is bookended by sequences of high-intensity letter pecking with gruesome consequences — think Mavis Beacon as designed by Ted Kaczynski — and the final scenes have a way of searing themselves into your psyche. Not to mention, the whole thing takes place on a keyboard, no mouse or gamepad. So I guess it's technically only a typing game, but it's also not a traditional typing game at all. Trust me, it makes perfect sense in practice. s.p.l.i.t comes from Unsorted Horror and Buckshot Roulette developer Mike Klubnika, and it features his signature layers of grit, retro hardware and purely concentrated nightmares. In s.p.l.i.t , you're seated at a '90s-style computer terminal in a cramped, gray-washed shack. The world appears in PS2-era 3D graphics, and you're surrounded by distended black screens crawling with orange monospaced text. To your left, a window looks onto a dense forest. To your right, there's an electronic device in a lockbox. By pressing Alt and A or D, you're able to twist your torso to interact with two separate screens: One displays an active IRC channel with your co-conspirators, and the other is where the hacking takes place. The narrative unfurls in strings of data logs, file directories, command prompts and instant messages, while a bed of ambient industrial music pulses in hypnotic waves. You're attempting to gain root access to a facility where mysterious but clearly unethical things are taking place, and you're working with two colleagues, Sarah and Viktor, to infiltrate the systems. Sarah and Vikor's messages automatically appear in the chat box, each one accompanied by a satisfying bloop sound, and when it's your time to respond the SEND button flashes once, prompting you to type. It doesn't matter which keys you press while chatting, as lines of pre-written dialogue will appear to push the narrative along smoothly. Sarah, Viktor and the player character, Axel, have distinct personalities and they clash in believable ways. The game does a fantastic job of building robust characters in such a short time, through dialogue alone. On the hacking side, it very much matters which keys you press. You are in full control of the typing while digging through the facility's files, so spacing, capitalization, punctuation and spelling are all taken into account, alongside use of the proper commands. This portion of the game is a maze of directories and data, operating as one big logic puzzle. Your colleagues outline the goals but once you're in the system, you're on your own, relying on context clues to figure out what information you need and how to gain access. The hacking riddles in s.p.l.i.t are perfectly complex, requiring failure and tenacity to work out, and this balance makes each victory feel like a real accomplishment. Typing 'help' at any time pulls up a list of all possible commands, and I found this screen useful whenever I hit a dead end in my investigations — it's a natural way to mentally reset and visualize any unexplored paths. The 'print' command functions as a notepad, allowing you to save relevant numbers and other information on a strip of paper attached to the PC screen, and it's a useful tool especially in the game's later stages. I'm no coder, but I got used to the keyboard style of navigation really quickly. There's a strong sense of internal logic in s.p.l.i.t and it's satisfying to play in this sandbox, learning the game's language and steadily building skills as the narrative tension grows. The first-person interface, rhythmic electronic soundtrack and consistent characters combine to make s.p.l.i.t an incredibly immersive experience. It all pays off in a massive way by the end, when the typing game returns and things really get gruesome. s.p.l.i.t tests critical-thinking skills and keyboard proficiency in a dystopian near-future setting, and it's a uniquely unnerving, heart-pounding slice of interactive psychological horror. It's no more than a few hours long, but it's something you'll think about for days after the credits roll, guaranteed. s.p.l.i.t is available now on Steam for just $2.50 through July 31, and $3 after that.
Atlantic
8 hours ago
- Atlantic
A Requiem for Puff Daddy
Black cool is one of America's great innovations, right up there with basketball, blue jeans, and the internet. It blends several forms—music, sports, fashion, speech, ways of cutting through space—into a wholly distinctive, globally influential aesthetic. There are French fashion houses in thrall to silhouettes first spotted in Harlem, Japanese men who have devoted their lives to spinning jazz records in Shibuya, and lavish murals of Tupac Shakur as far apart as Sydney and Sierra Leone. Sean Combs, the disgraced record mogul, certainly did not invent Black cool. But like Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali, and Michael Jordan before him—and like Jay-Z, Kanye West, and many others who followed—for a flicker of time he was its most formidable ambassador. That moment coincided with my adolescence, which is why the revelation of Combs's extravagant cruelties —the depravity with which he used all that he'd gained—has left my childhood friends and me feeling so betrayed. We had looked up to Diddy, whom I will always think of as Puff Daddy or Puffy. When we were at our most impressionable, he taught us what to want and gave us a model for how to behave and succeed. Seeing him fall apart in our middle age feels like a kind of heartbreak. The verve and swagger he injected into our childhood dreams have curdled into something rancid. Certain photographs of Puffy are permanently etched into my memory. In 1995, dipped in a flowing black-and-gold Versace Barocco silk chemise, liberally unbuttoned to flex a thick Cuban link anchored by a diamond-encrusted Jesus piece—the definitive signifier of inner-city affluence. September '96, on the cover of Vibe magazine: head peering from behind his greatest protégé, the Notorious B.I.G.; signature blackout shades; a perfect S-curl relaxing the weft of his fade. The cool he exuded in these moments was inspirational, even masterful. My friends and I had never seen anything like it so fully pervade the culture, certainly not from someone we felt we could relate to. I have not admired Combs for decades now, since well before his trial this year. But I will always be partial to the Puff Daddy of the '90s: from 1993, when he founded his record label, Bad Boy Entertainment, through the spectacular rise and death of the Notorious B.I.G., and peaking around 1998 during hip-hop's 'shiny-suit era,' which he pioneered with Ma$e and the Lox. By the time I got to college, Puffy was even wealthier, and my cultural references had begun to change. I vaguely remember the preposterous images of him strolling beneath a blazing Mediterranean sun while his valet spread a parasol over his head. He was mainly in the news because of a shooting at Club New York, which resulted in bribery and gun-possession charges against him and a highly publicized trial (he was acquitted). For my friends and me, his shocking newness had begun to fade. Back in his prime, though, Puffy conveyed a sense of youthful ambition that we revered. He was able to transition from sidekick and hype man to dealmaker and multiplatinum performer. Before turning 25, he had founded his own culture-defining business—soon-to-be empire—and knew precisely how to leverage his growing fortune into social capital. More than his success, we were struck by two qualities that seemed novel to us. The first was the amount of effort he openly displayed, which counterintuitively amplified his cool. Puffy made no pretense of obscuring the maniacal work required to achieve his goals. When he closed a million-dollar deal, he slammed the phone down and screamed. (Years later, he would become one of the original hustle-culture influencers on Twitter.) He showed us that flourishing was not a condition one had to be born into—that luxury and labor were connected. The second quality was his ability to make Black people and Black culture—even its less compromising, more street-inflected iteration—feel at home in places, such as the Hamptons, that had not previously welcomed them. Puffy's motto 'I'ma make you love me' felt innocent and aspirational to us, not least because he actually achieved it. We were still many years away from realizing just what he would do with all the love he was given. Helen Lewis: The non-exoneration of Diddy Puff Daddy seemed to us then like a Black man utterly free in a moment of expanding opportunity. Before the age of social media, before we'd ever stepped on a plane, Puffy represented our first intimation of an unrestricted way of being-for-self in the world. On the one hand, he was the antidote to the soul-crushing squareness of upwardly mobile middle-class life that we so feared—degrees, office jobs, bills. On the other hand, he was perfectly assimilated into the good life of the American mainstream, to which we desperately craved access. This made him dramatically unlike his peers. Tupac and Biggie were confrontational, and look where it got them. Rap entrepreneurs such as Master P and Brian 'Baby' Williams were rich but ghettoized; any number of establishments wouldn't seat them. Puffy, by contrast, looked like a marvelous solution to the problem of success and authenticity that my friends and I had been struggling to solve. Yet we were suffering from a kind of myopia. And it wasn't unique to us. The generation after us put their faith in Kanye West, whose most recent contribution to the culture is a single titled 'Heil Hitler.' Role models are like seasons. One passes irretrievably into the next, but for a moment they might reveal possibilities that outlast and surpass them.
