And shockingly, it wasn’t from the overwhelming nauseous feeling they got from hearing Gwyneth Paltrow talk about how perfect Gwyneth Paltrow is all evening. It was from food! That’s right, famous cookbook author Gwyneth Paltrow admitted on The Rachael Ray Show (via Glamour) Friday morning that she once made a meal that made everyone fill the 17th century gilded French porcelain toilets in her home with hot barf. Now, I’ve read both of Goopy’s cookbooks, and I’d say that roughly 79% of what I saw gave me the heaves (so many vegetables and not ONE recipe for Frito Pie). But according to Goopy, it wasn’t because she was serving her guests some kind of disgusting pickled heirloom kholrabi over mashed sunchoke bullshit; it was because she screwed up the recipe for eggplant parmesan.
“I went to the store and bought some eggplant, a jar of tomato sauce, and some really rubbery mozzarella cheese. I didn’t know that when you cook eggplant, you first have to sweat it to get all the bitter juice out, and I didn’t realize that you also have to bread eggplant parmesan and fry it before. So I put slices of raw eggplant with jarred tomato sauce and mozzarella. And everyone threw up.”
Goopy then added “…and I don’t blame them; I too would throw up if someone had the audacity to serve me something as vulgar as store-bought tomato sauce from a jar. Normally I make my own by hand-crushing imported San Marzano tomatoes harvested from a 276-year-old farm and cultivated by a man known only as Giuseppe, but I guess I suffered some sort of brain stroke and thought it would be acceptable to use jarred sauce. ”
And Gwyneth must not have learned anything from watching people barf up her food, because on Thursday she triggered more gag reflexes by posting a recipe for Sex Bark on Goop. From what I’ve gleaned, Sex Bark is a chocolate-based snack made from something called “Sex Dust”, which sounds like something a Mummy’s cooze makes when it gets horny (aaaand I just barfed all over my keyboard).
Last night at the Los Angeles premiere of Mortdecai, 62-year-old sexy Cialis pill Jeff Goldblum and his 31-year-old knocked-up gymnast wife Emilie Livingston decided to give everyone in attendance an eyeful of what it looks like when an old-ass dude who can still get it gets the instant horn-horns for the girl who portions out his Lipitor into his plastic 7-day pill organizer by sucking each other’s faces on the red carpet. Normally I’m all for two horny sluts going at it in public, but watching Jeff mouth-hump on Emilie is 8 shades of NO. This looks like a daddy bird feeding a baby bird, or a Werther’s Original ad gone horribly, horribly wrong.
Thankfully, an even-messier someone was able to yank our eyes away from that mess, and that someone was Gwyneth Paltrow flashing half an organic free-range cashmere-basted boob:
Mothers, lock up your billionaire investment banker sons – Sexy Single Mommy Goopy is on the prowl! And maybe it’s because I’m a little high from the 3 bowls of French Toast Crunch I ate this morning, but those freckles of Goopy’s boopy sort of look like a happy little face, right? I can practically hear it offering me a cold glass of sparkling hand-pressed Madagascar lime leaf essence.
Here’s more of Jeff Goldblum acting like the definition of a late-in-life midlife crisis, Goopy serving up some “Mommy’s still sexy, right? RIGHT???” realness, as well as human guitar pick Johnny Depp, panty-dropping Scottish DILF Ewan McGregor, and jacked Crank Yankers puppet Tracy Anderson:
Okay corn broom, we got it – you still have the ass of a 22-year-old stripper. Sit it down.
During a game of “Plead the Fifth” on Watch What Happens Live last night, Andy Cohen asked living glass of coconut water Gwyneth Paltrow the question: “What is the hardest drug you’ve ever taken?” If I had to guess the answer, it would be either a fine French milled opium imported from a 89-year-old artisanal drug dealer in Paris or an organic cocaine-style nose talc hand-cut using an American Express Black Card. But I was wrong. According to Goopy, the hardest drug she’s ever done is ecstasy:
Sadly, she didn’t elaborate on the circumstances surrounding her experience rolling on E, but I like to imagine it involved Goopy wearing a pair of JNCO Jeans and a million plastic bead candy raver bracelets while sucking on a pacifier and spinning a couple glow sticks between her fingers. But in all likelihood, it probably went something like this:
After many months of rectal discomfort from walking around with a stick up her ass, Gwyneth went to her goopiopath (a doctor that deals exclusively with rich lady problems) and asked them to recommend something to treat it. Since the medical community has yet to discover a cure for Stuckupbitchitis, her doctor decided to prescribe a couple hits of ecstasy in an attempt to mellow her out. And it was the hardest drug she’s ever taken, because her doctor forgot to put it in a diamond-studded 24k gold decorative pill bottle and, ew, are you kidding? Pills out of a plastic bottle?
Later on, Goopy played a game with Andy called “I’m So Goopy” where he read off a list of things common peasants like, like jeggings and spray cheese, and asked which ones Goopy likes too. Goopy apparently likes sweatpants and Taco Bell. Taco Bell? Uh huh, sure. Ordering a cup of filtered water through the drive thru doesn’t count, Gwynnie!
Just when you thought Gwyneth Paltrow might not be nearly as insufferable as she seems, that come-to-life corn broom goes and spoils it all by grabbing a microphone. Goopy, NO! I just got “Cruisin’” out of my head. Update: Aaaand it’s back again. Please send some industrial-strength pain killers.
Goopy is still out hustling her appearance in Mortdecai (aka the role she was born to play – a snobby rich British lady), and last night’s stop was at The Tonight Show. Jimmy Fallon no doubt had a long list of dumb things they could do, but since she had just gotten a $1750 hand-pressed imported baby beluga oil hair flattening treatment, there was no way she was going near water. So they sang Broadway versions of rap songs instead. Because if there’s anything people want to see, it’s Goopy leaning against a piano looking like a human-sized tapeworm in some kind of weird beige onesie crooning “I don’t fuck with you, you little stupid-ass bitch.”
She also told Jimmy about being a teenage badass who used to sneak out at night to drink peach wine coolers and smoke on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum with her friends, and how she used to leave a note for her parents on her bed in case they discovered her missing that said “I’m really sorry. I’m feeling rebellious and I snuck out. It’s the first time I’ve ever done this.” Wow, such rebellion, much middle finger to society. But was it really necessary to leave a note? Her parents probably knew something was up when they noticed her sneaking some of the good crystal into her coat. Teenage Goopy may be drinking peach wine coolers, but she’s sure as hell not drinking them out of anything less than a fine crystal goblet, thank you very much.
Seen above looking like a snobby British schoolboy who is going through a chola phase without help from an actual chola, Goopy Paltrow was on Howard Stern today to promote that Mortdecai mess and a really, strange, bizarre thing happened. I listened to the entire interview and my eyes only rolled and bungee jumped out of their sockets three or four times. That might be a record.
Howard Stern usually gives the best interviews, because he gets deep and asks famous hos shit that nobody else asks like how much money they make and if they’re into anal. Howard didn’t ask Goopy any questions like that, but in his defense he probably knows that she doesn’t do butt sex since it’s pretty much impossible to do anal when your head is always shoved up your ass. Speaking of, she told Howard that she didn’t pull her head out of her ass until she turned 40. (Insert SureJan.GIF here)
Howard asked her about Brad Pitt, Ben Affleck, that heave-inducing “conscious uncoupling” term, Jennifer Lawrence and the rumor that she stole the Shakespeare in Love role from Winona Ryder. I threw up a bunch of quotes after the cut. Your eyeballs don’t have to be scared about overworking themselves. They might only roll five or seven times.
Georgette the Poodle’s less-fun human equivalent Gwyneth Paltrow is once again back to inform us ignorant dum-dums on a subject Gwyneth is clearly very knowledgeable about: MEAN GIRLS. And no, not the movie (I bet Goopy’s interpretation of Mean Girls would be that it’s a movie about a beautiful wealthy popular girl named Regina George who is relentlessly bullied by a bunch of jealous haters). Gwyneth already covered the topic of women being mean to other women once already this week in Harper’s Bazaar UK, but I guess she had more to say, because now she’s talking about mean bitches being mean bitches to Gwyneth Paltrow in the February issue of Marie Claire.
During an interview with Harper’s Bazaar UK, Gwyneth Paltrow confessed that she thinks women are too mean to each other. I know – how rich. Pot, meet snobby cunty $2,985 hand-forged imported steel kettle. I guess she’s already forgotten about that time she got into a shady passive aggressive cake feud with her life nemesis Martha Stewart.
“Women really need to examine why they’re so vitriolic to other women; why they want to twist words, why they want to read about someone else in a negative light and why that feels good to them… But I also know a huge tribe of women who are loving and supportive of other women, in ways that are completely transformative.”
She then added: “I am so supportive of the women in my life. For example, one time I offered to let a friend stay in my guest house after I realized she didn’t have an imported Italian beluga fin filtered oxygen system in every room in her home. I mean, gross, right? She was breathing in regular air. I also noticed the clothing her children were wearing were all off the rack, so I offered her an organic trash bag filled with Apple’s old couture. I am just such a good friend.”
Obviously the delusion is thick with this one, so it should come as no surprise that it gets thicker. Goopy also admitted that being born to a well-connected producer and actress and being the goddaughter of the guy who made E.T. had nothing to do with her success, because she’s worked for everything she has (please prepare your eyes for a workout, as they will inevitably roll at the following quote):
“My father was totally self-made. I grew up with the benefit of a great education and a beautiful house, but my father always said, ‘The day you leave, that’s it. You’re not getting anything,’ and he stuck to it. He was so hardcore about me making my own way. I’ve earned everything myself, and I’ve never taken any money from anyone – my father really pounded that into me, so I got the message.”
You hear that? Bythe Danner’s daughter doesn’t have to name-drop because Blythe Danner’s daughter is a hustler! Here’s more of Goopy looking like Photoshop farted on an airbrushed T-shirt stand in Harper’s Bazaar:
Shocking, I know: an insufferable snob like Gwyneth Paltrow is an insufferable snob in all aspects of her life, including her own mother. “Ew, we don’t like to use the word mother – it’s just so pedestrian. She’s my biological birth being. Correct yourself, you uncultured skank.” And if you can believe it, it’s actually so much more goopy than that.
According to Page Six, Gwyneth was hanging out in the Hamptons with her ex-husband Chris Martin at a spa. Sleepy McScarf was paying for a one-hour massage for The Corn Broom while she texted away on her exclusive communication instrument (Gwyneth doesn’t use a cellphone like the unwashed masses). A source claims that Chris asked Gwyneth who she was talking to, and she responded: “Blythe Danner“. BLYTHE DANNER??? That bitch name-dropped her own mother! The only way she could have gotten any goopier would be if she had replied: “Blythe Danner, mother of Academy Award-winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow“.
Or maybe she responded with “Blythe Danner” because she was mad at Chris Martin and wasn’t in the mood for lighthearted colloquialisms like “mom“. The source says he bought her a massage, but it doesn’t say what kind of massage. I bet she was still pissed off that when she laid down on the massage table, someone started rubbing her back with their hands. “Human hands? Excuse me? Blythe Danner’s daughter would NEVER! Did you run out of imported young tiger paws or something?“
I can’t decide if John Stamos’ belly button looks like a mushroom-headed dick poking out of his stomach or a skin-colored clown nose or the button nose of a bearded old man with no eyes? Well, whatever it looks like, I’d still lube it up with Dannon Oikos yogurt and hit it.
On Jimmy Kimmel Live! last night, he presented the 8th edition of the segment where famous types read mean tweets written by either Jimmy Kimmel’s writing team or actual Twatterers. This one gave us Lela Durham (copyright: Valerie Cherish) and her dog tits, John Stamos’ bubble belly button, Lisa Kudrow (who gets an A+++ in reacting), crack head Jon Hamm, raper-faced Scott Foley, Bob Newhart, Ted Danson and his majestic silver cliff of hair and Brit Brit who wore a turkey oven bag and looked like she laughed to keep from melting into a puddle of tears and Frapps. Most of these are good, but out of the billions of mean tweets about Goopy Paltrow, that’s the one they chose?!
Big Bird should’ve read that first one, because nothing is meaner than being compared to Goopy.
Gwyneth Paltrow Slaps Back At Martha Stewart’s “Conscious Coupling Pie” With A Recipe For “Jailbird Cake”
The passive-aggressive rich white lady food feud continues! Back in October, life inspiration and OG Martha Stewart came for snobby cup of cultured almond milk Gwyneth Paltrow by publishing a feature on Thanksgiving pie recipes in the November issue of Martha Stewart Living titled “Conscious Coupling“. And yesterday, Gwyneth took out her earrings (“Here Tracy, hold my $12,050 Harry Winston pink diamond studs“) and took a swipe at Martha by posting a recipe for “Jailbird Cake” to GOOP.com. First pies, now cakes? Damn, these bitches fight dirty!
Goopy’s Jailbird Cake was included in a collection of four no-bake Thanksgiving desserts, which she describes as “un-goop, unhealthy dessert recipes—they’re all simple, gratifying, and hugely crowd-pleasing.” Oooh, it sounds like someone’s been taking lessons from Miss Anna’s School of Backhanded Shade! “Jailbird cake” = “Un-goop” = “What was jail like, Martha? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been!” cackles Gwyneth from the reading room in the guest house at Castle Goopskull. For someone who looks like a sun-bleached sea shell, she sure can throw shade.
My only problem with Gwyneth’s Jailbird Cake (aside from the fact that it looks like a sloppy plate of zebra dookie) is that it features nothing you would find in prison. If you’re going to shade Martha Stewart by making something called Jailbird Cake, you make that shit authentic! Instead of chocolate wafers, whipped cream, sugar, and vanilla, it should have been made with a handful of factory damaged sandwich cookies given to you by your cellmate after they licked all the cream out, “whipped topping”, 20-year-old packets of NutriSweet, and vanilla-flavored lube. That’s how you make a Jailbird Cake.