It Wasn’t PP!
In this week’s edition of GOOP (Grossly Ostentatious Oogly Pretentiousness), Fishsticks Paltrow conducts an overly thorough, in-depth Cuntline NBC investigation on her harrowing journey from Paris, France to London to Los Angeles for the Emmys. Fishy’s Emmys scrapbook should really be titled Two Days In The Life Of A Working Mother, because like every working mother Fishy traveled in First Class and stayed in a 12-star hotel suite while her team of nannies tried to keep the scent of “North America” off her children by rolling them in organic baby powder and dried orchid leaves in a room next door.
You know, Fishy writes that she took a commercial flight to L.A., but do we really believe that she breathed in coach mist for that many hours? Bitch is lying. While in France, Fishy made two of her Russian maids pull her head out of her ass which made all the bullshit she stores up hit the ground so hard that it tossed her across an ocean and a country. Fishy finally landed in an empty pool of Neil Lane jewels in L.A. That’s how she really travels.
Fishy does make an Over the Moon violation (and uses the word “CHUFFED” in the same paragraph) in this ode to a working mother, but I’ve got bigger fish(sticks) to fry. Like how she came upon a disgusting sight that forced her to snap her fingers at her personal valet and bark at him to reupholster her seat in shark leather.
4:59 pm
It’s a minute to show time, and I find my seat in the second row (right behind the cast of 30 Rock!) The seat filler before me was sweaty … so my chair was wet. Gross!
5:00 pm
The 63rd Primetime Emmy Awards begin, hosted by Jane Lynch from Glee!
I live for Tina Fey and I love Kenneth from 30 Rock! Wait … why does my arm look like that and since when do I have 9 chins?
That’s not 9 chins. That’s your jaw cringing and weeping at being an accomplice to the stupid fucking shit that comes out of your mouth, you dumb dick hole.
But back to the seat filler thing. Is that a direct insult to the Emmy’s premiere seat filler Chicken Cutlets? Phoebe Price doesn’t sweat. She can’t. She had all of her sweat glands removed, because they threw off her balance and made it hard for her to pose in front of a camera for 12 hours straight on Robertson Blvd. But I’m sure who ever sweat like a human all over Fishy’s seat will have each of their skin pores plugged up so this never happens again.
And it might not have been PP who completely ruined Fishy’s seat, but it was definitely the other kind of PP if you know what I mean. If you’re sitting on Fishy’s seat, it is your duty to piss all over it.