For most people, Throwback Thursday is a way to let your friends know that you hate the way that your life has turned out and you want nothing more in the world than to travel back in time to the days when things weren’t as shitty and meaningless. But for Gwyneth Paltrow, it’s just a way to throw some more battery acid at her ruined marriage to Chris Martin, as she tweeted this photo with her kids along with the message “luckiest mom ever.” Is she trying to tell Chris that their kids love her more than him? Yes, she absolutely is, because Gwyneth Paltrow is a mean, hateful demon who was birthed on this planet straight from Satan’s butthole. But her kids sure do love her, that’s for certain.
It seems like Chris Martin and Gwyneth Paltrow had a pretty open marriage, at least based on the way they were barely ever seen together, and there were constantly rumors that one was “cheating” on the other in public with equally famous people. And yet they still deny those rumors even after they’ve “uncoupled,” as Page Six reported the other day that Martin had cheated on Paltrow in 2011 with a woman who was either an assistant at Saturday Night Live or the member of someone’s entourage. Regardless of how insignificant she is, Martin’s spokesman, Murray Chalmers, called the accusation “completely untrue” and added, “We totally deny it.” He’s obviously telling the truth, because there’s no way we’d ever buy that Chris would cheat on Gwyneth with a woman.
Photo Credit: Getty
Freshly uncoupled Gwyneth Paltrow wants to shit out an additional five pounds from her whey powder built frame. The Goop blogger and generally self-important succubus is reportedly using high colonics to poo out a few extra pounds. Now that she and her husband Coldplay are splitting up officially, she needs to go from slender to emaciated if she wants feel pretty again. Apparently, Gwyneth’s favorite weight loss method, (besides fasting on days ending in a ‘y’), is a regimen of high fiber shakes and enemas that flush your pipes like Drano. People close to the twatty ex-pat say that she’s prone to these kinds of crash crap diets and has even sold her own colon cleans on her Goop website. It’s hard to imagine Gwyneth possibly being more annoying, but adding uncontrollable shit runs down her legs thrice an hour certainly seems a contender for moving her up the ladder of heinousness. When she starts breathing fire and immolating Tokyo, we might need to revaluate her ranking again.
According to numerous publicists posing as anonymous insiders for crappy gossip magazines, Gwyneth Paltrow’s marriage to Gay Beethoven was on the rocks for years. Apparently, she didn’t give a twang who he nailed on the side or the fact he never attended any of her fame whore sucking events, though she did frequently mock the food he ate and ridiculed he dressed. I understand why the Coldplay frontman wanted to anger management a couple babies into Gywneth Paltrow. There but for the grace of God go the rest of us who stupidly dream of taming the shrew. But why would he stick around for ten more years of Gywneth flashing by in designer fashions and ripping on him for eating non macrobiotic. I guess it’s the kids or the high cost of Conscious Uncoupling or just the fact that Gwyneth let him bang her doppelgänger Kate Bosworth and would even change the organic potpourri scents in the bedroom between her visits. Much of these new broken marriage revelations shed light on why Gwyneth panicked so hard when Vanity Fair set out to do an expose on her. That story she later squelched along with Graydon Carter’s sensitive sac between her tapioca encrusted tentacles. There’s got to be tons of shit there beyond just her banging Elle Macpherson’s current amateur helicopter piloting husband. Murder? Money laundering? Or just the hellish daily drip of sustained bitchery that lead men to pray for an early grave. I don’t envy the people tasked with digging into Gwyneth’s dirty laundry. Most will end up with weird skin blistering ailments like the men who went in search of Tutankhamun’s burial treasures. But somebody’s got to get to the bottom of the more malevolent shit. You don’t just defeat your enemies and call it a day. You need your Nuremberg hangings.
Remember the early days when Gwyneth and Chris were young and in love and almost making eye contact with one another without morbid frowns? Yeah, that pinnacle of raw romantic feeling is over now. Gwyneth Paltrow posted on GOOP with all the grace and elegance that only she could muster that love was ending between her and Coldplay frontman Chris Martin. She titled her post ‘Conscious Uncoupling’ just in case you momentarily forgot how much you hated her.
“It is with hearts full sadness that we have decided to separate. We have been working hard for well over a year, so of it together, some of it separate, to see what might have been possible between us, and we have come to the conclusion that while we love each other very much we will remain separate.”
I don’t speak much GOOP, but I take this to mean that Chris Martin is satisfied with what certainly will be his unsurpassed world record of being in the same room with Gwyneth Paltrow without punching her in the crustaceans, and Gwyneth will remain satisfied entirely with herself. It’s unclear if she’ll continue to call him a genius and a wonderful husband and if he’ll continue to hesitantly refer to her as a woman who isn’t the hellish succubus devil incarnate you all believe she is. Amicability terms to be worked out, I’m sure. Also murky is which nannies will retain primary custody of the children. Divorce really is like a little death, only, Gwyneth is still alive. So it’s not quite as good.
Vanity Fair editor Graydon Carter is not a bad dude. But he is a huge pussy. Lots of guys fall into this category really, particularly high in our Canadian born brethren. There’s no shame in admitting you’ve been bested by Gwyneth Paltrow. She’s taken down many a man with tools ranging from her deep celebrity connections to her vagina which shoots skin-irritating microwave beams undetectable by the human eye. Last year Graydon Carter ordered one of his journalist deputies to dig into Gwyneth Paltrow’s life and figure out why half the world hated her and the other half loved her. Though that ratio assumption seems pretty generous. Word started leaking out that Vanity Fair’s story was going to be a brutal piece on Gwyneth that included her cheating on Gay Beethoven with the real estate mogul and crappy helicopter pilot billionaire now married to Elle Macpherson. Gwyneth and her team of committed Vestal Virgins started a damage control campaign that included emailing all her powerful Hollywood friends and telling them to boycott all things Vanity Fair. From there, I think she purchased most of Graydon Carter’s old neighborhood in Toronto and threatened to turn it into a monument dedicated to the perfect summer salad. Gwyneth plays for keeps.
To date, the story has never been published. In the latest edition of Vanity Fair, Graydon Carter says even though the Paltrow story was completed five months ago, he never published it because there was too much hubbub in the media about what it contained. He wants to sit on it for awhile. Naturally, you don’t want to release a story when everybody is dying to read it. You want to wait until it’s old and stale and nobody cares. That’s how you sell copies. Nowhere in his explanatory letter does he mention shitting bricks in his sleep because of Gwyneth coming to him in his REM sleep nightmares and smothering him with that microwave ray vagina. So, he’s not really telling the whole truth. Could you at least tell us if Gwyneth talked shit about Coldplay when she was fucking that billionaire?
Here’s photo of Gwyneth Paltrow being given an award in Germany the other night. Even Germans are scared of Gwyneth Paltrow, so they made up something phony to give her so she’d leave them alone to eat their sausage and secretly plot their next Reich.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet, WENN