Whenever you see Reese Witherspoon weeping on her steering wheel, it isn’t because she wishes she was the perfect Vanessa Lutz in real life or because she just watched Four Christmases, it’s because she’s permanently got a NO PRIVACY, PLEASE sign hanging on the end of her chin. Yeah, so you there, weeping in your car because you just lost your job and will have to move in there full time, stop your wah wah wah-ing! Reese has it worse. At least you can leave your car to wash your pits in the sink of a gas station bathroom. Reese can’t! So re-direct your tears and cry for her situation instead of yours. Stop being selfish for once!
While promoting that movie about thirsty elephants, Reese spoke to a journalist who interviewed her 8 years before for Vogue. Reese talked about all the things in her life that have changed since then including the fact that she can’t leave her mansion without a pap trying to eat her face with his camera lens. Every day, Reese is wearing a black veil over her face and mourning her privacy.
“I mean, I feel like an ingrate for even thinking anything isn’t good. I’m very, very, very lucky. But . . . umm . . . probably that I parted with my privacy a long time ago. We went different ways. And sometimes I mourn it. Sometimes I will sit in the car and cry. Because I can’t get out. That’s the only thing: I mourn the loss of my privacy.”
Did I mention that the black veil Reese wears is custom Hermes? She bought it with the money People Magazine paid her for those EXCLUSIVE wedding pictures. Uh huh. You know, I was almost right there with Reese. I thought to myself: “Reese is an actress! Reese is not a Kardashian! Reese didn’t sign up for this! Reese shouldn’t have to move to the rural parts of Tennessee to escape the paparazzi!” But then my mind went back to a couple of weeks ago when I pushed open a urinal door in the men’s bathroom of a movie theater and found a half-naked old man squatting over a toilet while sneering at me. If that old man was Reese Witherspoon, he’d have a bodyguard guarding that urinal door, or he’d be using an ultra exclusive VIP toilet in the top floor of the movie theater. So Reese needs to cry less, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen her squatting over a toilet seat in a public bathroom.