If you’ve ever thought to yourself, boy, I’d like to be the most hated person in Hollywood, be past 40 with my husband leaving me because he can’t stand my primary traits of hovering and bitchery, and largely be perceived as a patronizing, arrogant, ex-pat, then goop is the place for you. It’s like Gwyneth Paltrow took a Better Homes and Garden picture perfect dump and you get to dive in with your spoon and become one with her essence. Goop’s all lower case titling is just the tip of the inane consumer felch fest that lies beyond the simple country doorway. It’s Gwyneth Paltrow’s version of Fat Oprah’s Shit I Love phenomenon. A merchandising orgy of handbags, balms, salves, accessories, self-help books, casual wear and candles made from eye of newt that Gwyneth marks up to a fare-thee-well to enhance the orgasmic tremors experienced by the women who shop there. It was formerly just online, but now in pop-up store format in the Brentwood Country Mart. Gwyneth has vowed to return to Los Angeles like the Lord Sith regrouping after temporary setback in battle. The store is only open until this weekend, after which it will self-immolate and an Ed Hardy store will appear miraculously in its place.
Chris Martin has decided to fall on the Unconscious Coupling sword and take the blame for the split between himself and his yoga succubus life partner. Chris did an interview with BBC One to promote his latest compendium of emotionally draining hits, Ghost Stories. The host mostly asked about Gwyneth and the divorce. So Chris spouted a bit of mindless mumbo jumbo about his personal failings then employed some non sequitur logical link back to Ghost Stories.
About two years ago I was a mess really because I can’t enjoy the thing that we are good at and I can’t enjoy the great things around me because I’m burdened by this. I’ve got to not blame anyone else and make some changes.’
Nice use of impersonal pronouns, Gay Beethoven. Could you be a bit more trite. Oh, yes, you can.
If you can’t open yourself up, you can’t appreciate the wonder inside. So you can be with someone very wonderful, but because of your own issues you cannot let that be celebrated in the right way.
It’s hard tot believe people pay to listen to this meandering personal empowerment breakout session set to simple melodies. It’s not that people shouldn’t have the right to listen to Coldplay, it’s just that the rest of us should have the right to punch them in their left testicle when they do.
If you don’t let love really in then you can’t really give it back. So what Ghost Story means to me is like you’ve got to open yourself up to love and if you really do, of course it will be painful at times, but then it will be great at some point.
Yes, I see. How about I buy a dozen copies of your album if you promise not to speak aloud until 2020. Chris Martin went on in his interview to praise Kanye, just to be super clear that Gwyneth wasn’t the only insufferable bitch in this marriage. We ought now gather in the Hague to discuss shooting their offspring into a lunar orbit confinement before they come of age and haunt this planet with the double barreled sullen genetics of Paltrow and Martin. The Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Yeah, I got more.
Gwyneth Paltrow slapped a stalker with a restraining order after he managed to get into her house twice. The plucky weirdo, Nickolaos Gavrilis, was able to bullshit his way into both her London and LA homes by saying he had an appointment with her. Really? That’s what it took to get by her security and staff? Let’s send this guy after Putin. The restraining order says that Gavrilis can’t come within 100 yards of Gwyneth, her kids, or her estranged mildly autistic gay husband. It’s unclear if the stalker wanted to ritualistically slaughter Gwyneth and eat her face or simply wanted to ejaculate in her eye cream. Or both. I think perhaps Gwyneth should reconsider this restraining order. Now that she’s getting consciously uncoupled it is going to be harder on her to meet men. Women over forty who are incredibly unlikable have a tough time with the whole dating thing. Here is a guy who loves her unconditionally and is willing to go through a lot to meet her. I think he’s a keeper.
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.