“Actually, we don’t like to use the word ‘debt’; it’s too traumatic and sounds low-class. Instead, we use the term ‘financially overleveraged’, which means that technically the money we have is not currently present in a tangible sense, but that we know we have money and are extremely secure in a spiritual understanding of finance.” – Gwyneth Paltrow to her accountant.
If you happen to be browsing the office furniture section of Craigslist and see an ad for a bunch of imported cashmere desk chairs and a champaca oil-rubbed agarwood boardroom table, you’ll know why. According to corporate documents obtained by Radar, the world most pretentious website, Goop.com, is about two bounced cheques away from skipping town and living under the fictitious name Poop.biz. I don’t recommend you read the documents unless you get a boner for accounting and want to jerk it to pages and pages of numbers, so I’ll put on a shirt with a giant collar and sum it all up in the most Suze Orman way I can. Oh, by the way – all the numbers are in British pounds and not American dollars, because Goop has to be pretentious even when it’s talking about being a failing business:
1. Goop is the Lindsay Lohan of websites, spending way more than it actually makes. Like in 2012, when it spent £932,096, but only made £932,096. Or in 2011, when they only made £64,484 but spent £216,544. Shit, that’s a lot of organic cold-pressed kale juice.
2. Gwyneth and former CEO Sebastian Bishop gave themselves personal interest-free loans, to the tune of nearly £80,000. Sebastian has paid back about £13,000, and Gwyneth has paid back £0.
3. Despite losing more money than a toothy hooker at a blowjob convention, Gwyneth and Sebastian the Cash Crab gave themselves giant raises, going from £102,788 to £350,000. Congratulations on the raise, you two! You earned it! Writing the description for that $600 sleeveless vest must have taken HOURS.
So basically, what we have here is a classic case of writing a cheque that your ass can’t cash. Or several cheques. To yourself. Over and over again. And then wondering why the lights got shut off at Goop Inc. Then writing yourself another cheque.
And the most surprising thing from the Goop documents is that in 2012, £11,000 was spent on “recruitment”. Recruitment for what? Is Gwyneth starting her own insufferably pretentious army of WASPs? Lord help us.
Well look who we have here, it’s the seven basic bitches: Skinny, Boozy, Aussie, Goopy, Cougary, Bleachy, and McCartney (you know you’re the definition of basic when your nickname is just your last name).
On Friday night, struggling single mother Gwyneth Paltrow treated herself to a night out with her girlfriends at vegan restaurant Crossroads (once again, I feel the need to mention that it is tragically NOT a Crossroads-themed restaurant). Since it’s scientifically impossible to have a group of seven women get together for a girl’s night without taking a picture of it as proof (try it – I promise you it’s impossible), Gwyneth made sure not to leave without uploading a selfie to Instagram of herself, Nicole Richie, Chelsea Handler, Naomi Watts, Sam Taylor-Wood, Gwen Stefani, and Stella McCartney. Hold on a second, Nicole Richie? Color me a Simple Life-shade of confused. When did they become friends? OH MY GOD, WHO CARES. This group of women is the visual form of chasing 2 Ambien with a mug of Sleepytime tea.
Even though I normally cackle with delight in watching Gwyneth Paltrow try to do normal people things (divorces, hot dogs, etc) I actually really like this picture. I know, book me a room at Calmwood. Whatever filter (or lack of filter) Gwyneth used makes it look like the picture was taken during the middle of a seance held at Castle Goopskull using a broken Polaroid i-Zone, and Gwen Stefani is the first poor soul to be possessed by the malevolent spirit they summoned from hell. It’s like Paranormal Activity 4: Snobby Rich Ladies. It’s terrifying. I love it.
Usually when Gwyneth Paltrow has to plan a birthday party for one of her children, she’d simply remember back to the birthday parties she had as a child (she had a Sweet pre-16 party every year till she turned 16, at which point, she then had a coronation) and go from there. But Gwyneth is a struggling single mother now, and according to Us Weekly, on Saturday she was forced to throw her son Moses a basic 8th birthday party in (shudder) the backyard with (super-shudder) hot dogs:
“Everything took place in the backyard,” the insider tells Us, adding that the set-up of the driveway included blue ombre-faded balloons spelling out the letters “M-O-S-E-S” beside the number “8.” The guest list included 20 of Moses’ friends and a few of 9-year-old Apple’s pals, too.
For lunch, the kids and adults enjoyed delightful treats catered by food trucks, including gourmet hotdog vendor Dogtown Dogs and L.A.’s beloved “chow truck” India Jones. Specialties included hot dogs topped with Fritos and Indian street food like samosas, curry and Indian tacos, the source says.
Then after all the guests left, Gwyneth locked herself in the bathroom, where she spent the next 24-hours dry-heaving every time she remembered that time a Frito touched her son’s lips and wailing “I AM SUCH AN UNFORTUNATE SINGLE MOTHER!!!”
I know Gwyneth is trying to make down-to-earth Single Mom Gwyneth happen and wants us to believe that she had a backyard birthday party with hot dogs and balloons, but I’m calling organic cashmere bullshit. Let me pull out my crystal ball and tell you what really happened in the backyard of Castle Goopskull on Saturday. It began with parents dragging their kids up the driveway as they assured them “It’s only 2 hours, you’ll be fine”, followed by a couple party games like Musical Imported Chairs and Wash Your Hands, then everyone singing “Happy Birthday” in French before Moses blew out the candles on his glass of cold-pressed kale juice. Then the children were given a gift bag containing a Restorsea hand cream and a Tracy Anderson Method DVD and told to GTFO.
What a completely natural portrait that was probably taken by Mario Testino and was created with the help of 3 assistants, 4 lighting designers, 2 hair stylists, 3 make-up artists who specialize in creating the SAN FARDS look, 2 publicists, a body language coach and a nanny waving a Twinkie. Goopy also “oil pulled” for 2 hours straight so her teeth could look whiter than her dancing.
While looking like a luck dragon letting out a fart, Goopy Paltrow held onto her son Moses in a picture she threw up on Instagram today next to the words, “Moses Bruce Paltrow Martin turns 8 today. We Love you!” You can almost hear Goopy say through her teeth, “Stop squirming, just one more picture and I’ll let you sniff that Twinkie. Your mother needs some good publicity and people need to see my wedding ring even though your father already pawned his off and used the money to buy a Steak ‘n Shake franchise.”
Since it was a Tuesday afternoon when Goopy Paltrow announced that she shoved an enema up her marriage’s b-hole and cleansed herself of Chris Martin, the tabloids didn’t have enough time to report about their conscious uncoupling in last week’s issue. So this week, Goopy and Chris’ faces will be all over the magazines at the supermarket checkout line and looking at them will remind you that you forgot to pick up some laxatives and fishsticks.
People, who usually has both of their lips on Goopy’s solid gold-leafed asshole, says that during their 10 years of marriage, they sometimes kept it open and he’d hump on his side pieces (like Kate Bosworth, etc…) while she humped on her own side pieces (like Jeffrey Soffer, etc..). The HARDEST WORKING MOM IN THE ENTIRE WORLD said in her bullshit statement that her and the King of Waiting Room Music were having problems for about a year, but People says that for years their marriage has been a mess.
Several friends tell PEOPLE that the pair, who were married for 10 years, at times had an “open” relationship. “They were physically separated and emotionally,” says a Paltrow insider. Adds a close friend of the 41-year-old actress: “They have been on and off for many years. The marriage was falling apart.”
UsWeekly basically echoed what People said and they added that Goopy didn’t care that Chris put his mouth on other hos, but she did care that he put his mouth on Ronald McDonald’s parts. They always fought about her strict diet.
When that Alexa Chung rumor came out, one of my friends said that Goopy’s publicist was going to leak “an open marriage” story to let it be known that she okay’d Chris Martin’s wandering peen and nobody cheats on the Goop! Whatever, I really thought the tabloids would burp up the good shit this week. Open marriage shit and fights about diet?! That’s it? Where are the grainy, green stills from Chris Martin’s sex tape with three Monster Tacos from Jack In The Box?! Where is the story from The National Enquirer on how Goopy controlled all the money, because she knew he’d spend it on carbs and cheap meat, so Chris had to get his fix by selling his ass for a cheeseburger with bacon. Where are those stories?
The day that HARDEST WORKING SINGLE MOTHER IN THE WORLD Goopy Paltrow announced that she and Chris Martin have consciously uncoupled (which is the phrase I’m going to use to describe the act of my hand falling off of my crotch after falling asleep while fapping) Lainey hinted about he and Alexa Chung possibly being a thing. Now The Daily Mail is running with it and they’re saying that while Chris was having marriage problems, he hung out with the dehydrated piece of bland Jicama. Chris certainly has a type. The skinnier and more annoying the better. Bitch probably gets hard when he gets a splinter.
The Daily Mail says that last June, Chris and Alexa Chung hung out at the Glastonbury Musical Festival and had milkshakes together at 4 in the morning at a place called the Shaken Udder (which is the unsexiest way to describe Salma Hayek shaking her chichis). The employee who served Chris and Alexa milk from the Shaken Udder gave The Daily Mail the riveting details of their leche date:
“They turned up together at around 3 or 4am and came over to where I was working at Shaken Udder and said to me and my friend ‘what do you recommend?’ They looked like they were just chilling and having a good time. I did find it a little odd that they were together – but we had a little chat and they wandered off after they asked us if we knew of any good places to go and have a few drinks. hey were having a laugh together, but it didn’t seem that anything was going on.”
Chris Martin is about as cool and edgy as a double pleat on a pair of khaki Dockers, so I don’t know if it’s he’s cool or edgy enough for Alexa’s ass. I don’t know if I’m totally buying them being together, but I totally believe that Goopy flipped out over their milkshake date. No, she didn’t care that he was with Alexa. Goopy couldn’t believe that Chris would drink dairy and sugar in public! How trashy! How gauche! Goopy doesn’t care that Chris puts his mouth on his whores, dairy and sugar, behind closed doors, but to do it in public is pouring generic brand table salt on her wounds. Now all of Goopy’s friends know that he cheated on the macrobiotic, all-organic diet she spent weeks creating with two cheap sluts like cow milk and white sugar. The cheap, 2 cent straw that Chris Martin used to drink his side pieces with was the FINAL straw.
There you have it! The case of the Castle Goopskull-wrecking hussy is closed! You can go ahead and let all the billionaires you contacted know that they no longer need to come in and let you smell their dicks for imported organic lube and snobby pussy juices. According to The Sun (via The Daily Mail) the reason that Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin are unconsciously crappening or whatever isn’t because Gwyneth couldn’t stop bumping her bony butt on random rich dudes, or because Chris Martin got a blow job from a woman who’s mouth didn’t reek of rancid coconut oil and he swore he’d never go back. No! It’s because Chris was pissed that Katie Paltrow was feeding their kids a steady diet of Kabbalah and Kale (don’t tell me Gwyneth and Madonna never tried to start a Salt-n-Pepa-style rap duo called Kabbalah-n-Kale).
Coldplay singer Chris Martin struggled to deal with various aspects of Gwyneth Paltrow’s lifestyle which is believed to have led to their split. It’s thought Chris, who was pictured lavishing his children with attention and even buying them ice cream on numerous of occasions, found the actress’ diet and rules both constricting and hard on the children.
A source told The Sun: ‘He wanted the family to watch DVDs and TV – and also wanted them to eat treats every now and then.’
NO DVDs?!?! Ugh, why does this not surprise me? Gwyneth is definitely the type to make her kids watch experimental 1960s French short films projected onto an 800-thread count Egyptian cotton bed sheet in the backyard. And instead of popcorn, they feast on bullshit and the feeling of superiority.
But it’s always that nasty ho kale’s fault. Kale broke up two of my relationships! The first was with a dude who had to ruin any and all foodstuffs by putting that bitter green shit in everything (YES EVEN ON PIZZA). And the second was with my relationship with Ruffles. I fell into the same trap everyone did two years ago when you tried to switch out regular delicious potato chips for kale chips. Of course I realized I’d made a terrible mistake the second that awful kale chip touched my tongue. Thankfully, Ruffles is a down-for-life bitch, and she took my two-timing ass back.
Reading the heave-worthy title of Goopy Paltrow’s break-up statement was like hearing my cousin pronounce chardonnay as “churr-doo-nay.” I cackled even though I had no idea what she was saying.
Goopy is always trying to out-GOOP herself, so while us regulars let the online world know we’re single by changing our FB status to, “on the prowl for hard dick again,” she posted a 2,000 word piece from some fancy doctors about”conscious uncoupling.” Bitch hasn’t even filed for divorce yet and she’s already an expert on it all. So as Chris Martin celebrated his separation by eating an Arby’s roast beef with horsey sauce off of a hooker’s crotch while another hooker fucked him in the butt with a Chipotle BBQ Snack Wrap from McDonald’s, Professor Pretentioussia McStickUpperAss asked Dr. Habib Sadeghi and Dr. Sherry Sami to write a piece about “conscious uncoupling” for Goop. Here’s just a sliver of that WTF pie:
To change the concept of divorce, we need to release the belief structures we have around marriage that create rigidity in our thought process. The belief structure is the all-or-nothing idea that when we marry, it’s for life. The truth is, the only thing any of us have is today. Beyond that, there are no guarantees. The idea of being married to one person for life is too much pressure for anyone. In fact, it would be interesting to see how much easier couples might commit to each other by thinking of their relationship in terms of daily renewal instead of a lifetime investment. This is probably the reason why so many people say their long-term relationships changed overnight, once they got married. The people didn’t change, but the expectation did.
To put in plainly, as divorce rates indicate, human beings haven’t been able to fully adapt to our skyrocketing life expectancy. Our biology and psychology aren’t set up to be with one person for four, five, or six decades. This is not to suggest that there aren’t couples who happily make these milestones—we all hope that we’re one of them. Everyone enters into a marriage with the good intention to go all the way, but this sort of longevity is the exception, rather than the rule. It’s important to remember too, that just because someone is still married doesn’t mean they’re happy or that the relationship is fulfilling. To that end, living happily ever after for the length of a 21st century lifetime should not be the yardstick by which we define a successful intimate relationship: This is an important consideration as we reform the concept of divorce.
In order for those two paragraphs to make complete sense to me, I’m gonna need Neil deGrasse Tyson to explain it to me while I’m stoned into another dimension. That shit makes marriage sound like a pair of single-use contact lenses. (“Wait, it isn’t?” - Kim Kartrashian)
But I get it. It’s not Goopy’s fault her marriage ended, it’s just science. When everybody else divorces, they’re fat failures and their marriage ended because they ate too many carbs. When Goopy gets divorced, it isn’t because she and Chris just wanted to freely and openly put their mouths on other people’s fuck parts, it’s because she’s just really, really evolved.
In short: “Conscious uncoupling” is GOOP talk for “My divorce is better than YOUR divorce.”
Goopy Paltrow announced on GOOP today that Chris Martin can now eat McDonald’s all day long on 100-thread count sheets and his asshole is breathing a sigh of relief, because it no longer has to get daily coconut oil and quinoa water enemas. Even the pretentious ass title of Goopy’s break-up statement makes my eyeballs roll right out of my damn head.
It is with hearts full of sadness that we have decided to separate. We have been working hard for well over a year, some of it together, some of it separated, 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. We are, however, and always will be a family, and in many ways we are closer than we have ever been. We are parents first and foremost, to two incredibly wonderful children and we ask for their and our space and privacy to be respected at this difficult time. We have always conducted our relationship privately, and we hope that as we consciously uncouple and coparent, we will be able to continue in the same manner.
Gwyneth & Chris
I’ve read all the blind items that were supposedly about them, so this shouldn’t make me clutch my anal beads out of shock, but it kind of did. Goopy and Chris Martin have been married for 11 years and I figured they’d be one of those cold, WASP bitch couples who’d make each other miserable forever. She’d spend her nights drinking $500 bottles of wine with her only friend, her maid, while he’s out bareback fucking 20-something after 20-something. They’d sleep in separate wings of their mansion and every time they’d go out in public together, she’d say under his breath, “I hate you more than bleached flour,” to him while throwing a fake smile. Shit, I think I just described the last couple years of their marriage.
And “conscious uncoupling ” sounds like a really pretentious way of describing shit coming out of a butt during a bowel movement. Does Goopy ever stop thinking about poop?!
There must be a 24-hour news feed at Castle Goopskull that alerts Gwyneth Paltrow to every time an actress gives health advice, because it seems like more than a coincidence that a week after Shay-Lean Woodley taught us about clay-eating and vagina-burning, Gwynny has popped out of the woodworks like the jealous weevil that she is to remind Shay-Shay that she is the Queen of Thanks-But-No-Thanks advice.
Just like Jennifer Aniston before her, Gwyneth Kate (btw: how pissed do you think she is that she has such a basic-bitch middle name) gave an interview to E! News that was little more than a thinly-veiled infomercial for Restorsea, the skincare line she’s currently cashing checks from. Since we’ve all heard everything there is to know about skincare 8,000 times (wash face, dry face, put on sunscreen, wait for death) she moved the conversation to the cause of my most current bout of dry heaves, oil pulling:
I use coconut oil a lot I do on my face, on my skin and in my cooking. And I just started “oil pulling,” which is when you swish coconut oil around [in your mouth] for 20 minutes, and it’s supposed to be great for oral health and making your teeth white. It’s supposed to clear up your skin, as well. It’s really interesting; it’s an ancient, ancient technique. I read about it on the Internet.
You read about it on the internet? Goopy, please; everybody knows it don’t mean shit unless you saw it on Dr. Oz. But back to the more important question: what is Katie Paltrow doing with that oil once she’s done swishing it? Does she spit or swallow? (Trick question: as if a penis has ever touched her pristine princess mouth). If I were to use what I know about Gwyneth Paltrow, my powers of deduction say that she’s spitting all that swished up coconut oil into vintage apothecary bottles to sell on GOOP. Who wouldn’t want to own a limited-edition bottle of Academy Award-winner Gwyneth Paltrow’s organic oily mouth jizz? It would go great with your 300-page collection of Gwyneth’s farts.
And I’m still having trouble comprehending the idea of sucking on something for 20 minutes that didn’t buy me a Seaside Shrimp Trio at Red Lobster first.