When Vanity Fair promised to make all of our dreams come true by queefing out a GOOP takedown piece, their reporters were apparently sniffing every crevice of Goopy Paltrow’s life for juicy pieces of organic and grass-fed dirt and they were really focusing on how she might’ve rubbed her GOOP bush on some billionaire’s crotch. Nothing really came of that and VF’s piece turned out to be as boring as a Coldplay album. Graydon Carter’s full editor’s letter explaining why the anti-GOOP piece never really happened went up online yesterday and that shit doesn’t say much besides the fact that he thinks GOOP is more out of touch than many chick magazines. (THIS IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION!) But on the same day that Graydon’s letter went up, the anonymous secret-sharing app Whisper claimed that they heard from a “very reliable source” that Goopy isn’t passing her hairy poon to a billionaire, she’s passing it to entertainment lawyer Kevin Yorn. I’m staring at that picture of Kevin Yorn and wondering if that looks like the face of a man who wouldn’t flinch when Goopy asks him if it’s okay if she spreads her homemade lube (made of arabian stallion saliva, imported Neroli oil, Bagot goat butter and a drop of nipple discharge from a virgin) on his dick, because nothing processed or chemical touches her cooch.
Whisper’s EIC Neetzan Zimmerman, who used to write for Gawker, tells Gawker’s Defamer that a source who has no reason to lie and is really close to Goopy contacted them after Graydon Carter explained why VF killed their GOOP profile. The source told Whisper that Goopy has been down low fucking Kevin Yorn. Defamer asked Goopy’s publicist Kevin Huvane about this. Kevin Huvane denied it, then asked what Whisper was and then denied it some more after talking to Goopy.
The only time Gwyneth has even recently seen Kevin Yorn (who she knows only casually through business contacts) was on a flight from NY-LA. Gwyneth was flying with her assistant and the CEO of Goop and Kevin coincidentally was also in the first class section. I cannot be more clear with you when I say she is NOT having an affair with Kevin Yorn and I will be notifying her attorneys as well.
How embarrassing for Goopy! Defamer and Whisper both forced her to admit that she has flown COMMERCIAL before! Here I was thinking that Goopy refused to get on a plane unless it was a private jet and had seats covered in cashmere and the supple, fine skin leather that Mickey Rourke sheds every other week. I sort of believe Goopy, though. Would she really suck on a dick that has pissed in a commercial plane lavatory toilet recently? How uncouth! How unsanitary! How upper-middle-class!
And I wonder who this “very reliable source” is? I bet Apple Martin just strolled into a McDonald’s and ordered two of everything on the menu with her “very reliable source” money. Well played, Apple.
There’s literally nowhere this stuck-up snobby piece of stale PAAAASSS-ta could move without pissing off her neighbors. She could buy a deserted island in the middle of the ocean with no sign of human life for miles and miles, and she’d find a way to piss off the fish. On the upside, business would be booming for Ursula the Sea Witch, because every fish in a 100-mile radius would be banging down her door and begging her: “Forget the contract, just skip to the part where you kill me and turn me into a withered ass pimple.”
Because Gwyneth Paltrow is about as tolerable as an air-cured 100-mile artisinal shit, it’s easy to imagine the smile on her neighbors’s faces when they found out that her and Chris Martin would be selling their home in the Belsize Park area of North London. According to The Daily Star (via The Daily Mail), the neighbors hate them because the minute they moved in, they turned the street into a non-stop episode of Property Brothers (minus hot twins):
One resident told the paper: ‘We have had years of their building works. They have taken down trees so they can park their flash cars in the driveway and they put a huge swimming pool in the back garden.’
Another neighbour said: ‘The trouble is that it will probably be a similar sort that moves in and we’ll have this all over again.’
You can breathe a sigh of relief, Another Neighbor, because I can guarantee that you will never find another human alive who is more annoying or insufferable than Gwyneth Paltrow. That family of giant obnoxious boogers from the Mucinex commercials could move in and it would still be more tolerable than having to listen to non-stop Coldplay and finding your mail box stuffed with soy-ink letterpress pamphlets about hand-woven organic spirituality hammocks or the newest trend in brickwork. “I had all my bricks custom-shaped by the hooves of an endangered breed of Peruvian Llama. You should too, because your house is fugly and I hate it. Xo Your neighbor, Oscar-winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow.”
Here’s Goopy Paltrow and Chris Martin driving into Jennifer Aniston’s ridiculous ass Bel Air estate for a holiday party last night and in that picture it kind of looks like they’re just blindly driving along the road, which is the perfect metaphor for their lives.
So Jennifer Aniston threw a holiday party for her celebwhore friends and I’m sure it was just like your holiday party. But instead of serving food from Boston Market and Trader Joe’s frozen appetizers section on napkins, she served food made by a chef flown in on her private jet from wherever and served that food on brand new Hermes plates, which they later threw into the trash because reusing plates is gross. Instead of keeping bottles of Andre and cans of Cran-Brr-Rita chilled in a plastic trash can full of ice, she had three open bars and a giant wine fountain full of wine from her own damn vineyard. (Side note: The tanks of all of Jen’s toilets were filled with Miraval Rose.) And instead of the party ending after someone’s auntie projectile barfed up spiked egg nog, the party ended when Goopy Paltrow took a bite of chorizo in a blanket and barfed at the mouth in Spanish about her native Spain. FYI: Every country is Goopy’s native country. She’s that international.
Both UsWeekly and The Daily Mail made a big deal about Jennifer Aniston inviting a fellow ex of Brad Pitt’s to her party. It’s not that big of a deal really. Aniston invited Goopy, because she and Chelsea Handler needed a bitch to make fun of. But I’m sure Aniston and Goopy bonded at the cheese table when they both took a bite of warm munster cheese which reminded them of going down on Brad Pitt.
And here’s a few riveting pictures of famous hos like Courteney Cox (with a hot piece) and Will Arnett driving themselves to Aniston’s party. Why oh why didn’t the LAPD give us a beautiful Christmas gift by setting up a DUI checkpoint in front of Aniston’s gates?
Vanity Fair’s head bitch Graydon Carter has declared war on Goopy Paltrow after she refused to speak to them for a cover story and told all of her friends to blacklist their asses (that really worked). Graydon isn’t going to let Goopy slap at his ass lips without doing anything about it and he promised to get revenge on her by publishing an “epic takedown” cover story. I’m sure while he’s working on that story, he’s going to sneak into her mansion and replace her red panda placenta shampoo with Suave and put dog shit from a mutt (not even a purebred) in her outdoor wood-burning pizza oven. Page Six says that Graydon plans to expose all of Goopy’s darkest secrets. This is like a really boring episode of Dynasty if Alexis Carrington was a 64-year-old editor dude of a magazine and Krystle Carrington was a really pretentious dehydrated piece of jicama.
A source tells the Post that Vanity Fair’s “researchers” have been asking fancy bitches in Miami what they knew about Goopy’s relationship with billionaire hotel mogul Jeff Soffer (seen above looking like what shows up at your door when you order a bottom tier JFK Jr. impersonator). Jeff Soffer owns the Fontainebleau, is married to Elle Macpherson and he’s considered “Miami royalty.” The source said that Jeff flew Goopy into Miami for the reopening of the Fontainbleau in 2008 and gave her a “private” tour of his hotel. Goopy stayed at his house and during that same trip, they partied in a private section together at a Victoria’s Secret party.
Goopy and Jeff spokeswhores didn’t have anything to say about the Post’s story.
This better not be the juiciest piece of escandalosoness in VF’s supposed “takedown” story. Where are the stories from her maid about how they once caught her on her marble bathroom floor scraping the cheese off of a Big Mac box with her teeth while crying about how the preservatives heal her pain? Where are the pictures of her cooking a Tombstone pizza in her outdoor wood-burning pizza oven? Where is the interview from a plumber who worked for Goopy and confirms that fake bitch’s toilet is filled with regular tap water instead of the tears of Martha Stewart?
I mean, a story about how Goopy might’ve gooped all over some billionaire’s dick is about as shocking as finding out that nothing brings Chris Martin joy like eating McDonald’s french fries out of his side piece’s twat.
Apple Martin almost became apple sauce last Wednesday when she was riding in the back of Goopy Paltrow’s Vespa and her mom nearly ran into a school bus in L.A.. A quick second later, her partner in assholery Chris Martin drove by with the other Martin kid on the back of his Vespa. Ugh. This is disgusting, ridiculous, dangerous, stupid and illegal. I mean, how could that peasant of a school bus get in Goopy Paltrow’s royal path?! Doesn’t that school bus know that it should always be behind her royal highness Goopy? The audacity of that school bus for not knowing its place!
When Goopy was driving by, that school bus driver should’ve backed up, parked, jumped out of the bus and threw white rose petals in front of her. What if that school bus scraped off some of the paint on her opulent chariot? 500 diamonds were melted down to make the paint on Goopy’s Vespa. The paint job on Goopy’s Vespa costs more than five thousand of those homely school buses!
That school bus obviously needs to be put down and ripped apart so this never happens to Goopy Paltrow again. Actually, just put down all the school buses and let those children of the regulars walk!
via The Daily Mail
The world’s most beautiful and hated person Goopy Paltrow talked to Glamour UK (via UsWeekly) about her marriage to Chris Martin and thankfully she didn’t talk about how she rage blows him every time he’s mad at her. Goopy says that their marriage has gone through some terrible times (like the time he kissed her right after he drank a cup of British tap water) and they haven’t gotten a divorce, because divorce is for bougies! The highest members of high society like to keep their marriages cold, distant, loveless and miserable, because being warm, affectionate and happy around the servants at dinnertime is really damn tacky.
“It’s hard being married. You go through great times, you go through terrible times. We’re the same as any couple. I asked my dad once, ‘How did you and mom stay married for 33 years?’ and he said, ‘Well we never wanted to get divorced at the same time.’ And I think that’s what happened. When two people throw in the towel at the same, then you break up, but if one person’s saying, ‘Come on, we can do this,’ you carry on.”
Methinks Goopy is usually that one person and she usually says, “You better not humiliate me with a divorce or I’ll show up to all of your concerts and dance in the front row.” Stay married to Goop > Let Goop terrorize your eyes with her dancing for the rest of your life!
Goopy also says that she basically lets Chris do whatever he wants, because he’s a genius or something.
“I’m a very grounded, homey person and Chris is a very mad scientist, genius songwriter. So I never say, ‘Where are you? You should be home by now.’ I never place demands on him because I think he’s a really talented man and he’s putting something good into the world.”
Never mind that this bitch is about as grounded and homey as one of Lady Grantham’s high flying queefs, she’s right about never placing demands on Chris Martin. Yes, Goopy demands that Chris Martin never use her fine silverware after he’s put his mouth on a peasant’s crotch and she demands that he only eats what she eats, but other than that and 10,000 other demands, she makes no demands!
And I hate Glamour UK for making me think of Gwyneth Paltrow’s mean muffin. I bet when Goopy’s muffin gets mean, she makes it suck off Chris Martin. Ugh.
The World’s Most Beautiful Woman was on another talk show last night, because she’s not overexposed enough and she won’t stop popping up everywhere until the image of her face is embedded into your brain and she starts invading your nightmares. (Note: This finally happened to me last night. I had a nightmare where I went to a party in a barn. A BARN! Goopy was there serving Country Time lemonade in mason jars. Goopy doesn’t serve anyone and there’s no way she’d serve Country Time lemonade and I don’t think she even knows what a mason jar is. I knew it was a trick, so I kept walking.) Goopy was on Chelsea Lately and after Chelsea Handler wet kissed Goopy’s 22-year-old stripper ass for a bit, she talked about how good Goopy is at giving advice.
Chelsea said that one time at a dinner party, Goopy’s friends cried about a fight she had with her husband. Goopy’s friend and her husband were all mad at each other and she didn’t know what to do. You’d think that Goopy would tell her that she and her husband are angry, because they eat too much gluten, sugar, carbs and food, so they need to starve themselves until their internal organs are on the verge of shutting down and then they’ll be too weak to fight. Problem solved! But instead of saying that, Chelsea said that Goopy gave her friend some different advice.
“[Gwyneth's] an amazing advice-giver. And one of her friends is like, ‘I got in a big fight with my husband and I went home and I just wanted to scream and yell,’ and you were like, ‘Whatever you’re doing, do the opposite. If you feel angry, go at him with love and you give him a blowjob.’”
Blowjobs really do solving everything, but I don’t know if that’s the best advice. You might not know what to think if your piece is screaming at you one minute and then trying to suck you off the next. Does a dude really want to put his peen into the mouth of an angry trick? That’s only a good idea if the dude really wants to see his peen sitting in his wife’s stomach on an X-Ray. That’s some marriage advice from Lorena Bobbitt shit. But it works for Goopy, because ever since she told Chris Martin that she’s going to blow him every time he’s angry at her, he walks around the house with a smile on his face and a joyous skip in his step!
And Goopy also talked about how Chelsea needs to see a brain doctor, because she asks for the check before entrees are served and she once mistook her gardener’s car for her own. Oh, Goopy, that’s called being a drunk!
Chris Martin and GOOP are rarely ever photographed together and I get it. They’re both saggy cunt balloons full of cold farts of self-importance, but at least they know that most cameras can only handle one of their egos in the same frame. If the shells holding their egos touched as a camera’s flash went off, a black hole vortex would open up, sucking all of our souls into it and she wouldn’t have anybody on earth to terrorize with the piss streams of pretentiousness that shoot out of her mouth hole on a weekly basis. So we should be thankful to GOOP, blah blah blah… But sometimes they go so out of their way to not be photographed together that it makes them look even more ridiculous than usual. Yes, that’s possible.
When Coach threw Fishsticks Paltrow a party in London last night, Chris Martin showed up a little while after her dressed like a metrosexual unabomber and told all the photographers to keep their cameras away from him. Fine. The feeling is mutual, I’m sure. Show me a camera that wants to willingly wink at Chris Martin’s queef spout of a face and I’ll show you labia lips on a dick hole.
But then when the party was over, Fishsticks walked down the street to her car and Chris waited inside. When Chris was given the signal, he ran his stupid ass down the street and hopped into the backseat where Fishy was hiding with a blanket over her gills (ho has never looked better).
Any normal celebrity couple who doesn’t want to make a big deal out of their relationship would’ve just: a) casually walked to their car together while keeping their hands to themselves or b) taken separate cars. But these two twat sticks just have to create a DRAMATICOMGGELLINI scene. I swear, these two don’t even have to try to act like assholes, it just comes naturally.
Contrary to Gwyneth Paltrow’s belief, not every ho wants to sit on an antique farmhouse chair (imported from wherever the rarest antique farmhouse chairs exist) and sip from a bowl of liquefied black pearls while telling their pretentious cunt friends how most tiresome it is that a bald eagle chose to nest on the exact cliff where they want to build their early autumn mountain chalet (SPOILER ALERT: they bull dozed that nest down). And one of those Not Every Hos is Fishsticks’ very own husband Chris Martin.
According to Popeater, Chris was a guest at a dinner party to celebrate Fishy’s new cookbook and he gave the same pout his wife gives when her semi-private fishmonger (IN THIS ECONOMY, she has to share a fishmonger with the McCartneys and the royals) tells her that they’re all out of Osetra caviar. Apparently, Chris’ glumcuntface let everyone know that he would rather be sucking off a chainsaw than sitting with his wife’s friends.
When Chris arrived, reporters were told that he didn’t want to talk to anyone. Chris camped out in a corner and shriveled inside every time he had to hold a conversation with the likes of Martha Stewart and Mario Batali.
I subliminally threw Chris a “suck it up, cunt” look until I read what Jessica Seinfeld said before dinner began: “You are all so lucky to be part of Gwyneth’s world. Because this is the real deal. And she’s invited all of you good people in here. I would never do that.”
Jessica Seinfeld is the fucking worst. Allow me to hide a heaping dose of STFU in her brownies. Who says that shit? Those are the kind of words you say at the grand opening of an In-N-Out across the street from your house. You don’t say that about “a world” where you have to wear shoes at the dinner table and are expected to use the correct fork to eat duck ala eatme.
But Fishy fixed everything when she fed Chris a spoon full of flax seed oil and told him he’s the biggest, greatest rock star in the world. Seeing as though Fishy’s world is her only world, that’s not saying much (but don’t tell Chris).