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?
In the battle between Vanity Fair and Goopy Paltrow, Goopy Paltrow has won. That’s what Radar says anyway. The whitest and most pretentious war started when Vanity Fair wanted to do a cover story on Goopy and she shat on that offer, partly because she was on a 344-day diamond water and kumquat seed cleanse at the time, but mostly because she thinks the magazine is “off brand” for her. When VF made it clear they were going to do the story with or without her cooperation, she took out her 60 carat green diamond drop earrings (aka her daytime earrings), smeared rare Argan oil on her face, stuck Wusthof razors in her hair and declared war. Bitch was ready to fight.
Goopy supposedly told all of her friends to not talk to VF about her, and if they really wanted to be a VIP member of TEAM GOOP, they’d erase VF from their lives altogether. George Clooney sat in the bleachers on Goopy’s side of the auditorium and Julia Roberts sat on Vanity Fair’s side. LINES WERE DRAWN! Vanity Fair turned it up and started sniffing Goopy’s crotch for the scent of billionaire dick. The piece was supposed to be a glorious takedown and it was supposed to make Christmas extra special this year. Well, Vanity Fair has turned out to be that deadbeat dad who promises a trunkful of Christmas presents, but on Christmas morning shows up with zero presents, because he spent his entire paycheck on booze and pussy. A source tells Radar that VF’s Goop piece is going to be the opposite of scandalous.
“Whatever they wind up publishing, it’s going to be soft. Gwyneth’s campaign against the Vanity Fair article has apparently worked and she’s not as worried as she was three weeks ago. But the article is still coming out and she still refuses to participate in it.”
That’s our cue to start singing, “Didn’t We Almost Have It All” in unison.
The sad truth is I don’t think VF’s piece was ever going to be “hard.” Reading their piece is going to be like trying to suck a load out of a soft peen. You’re just going to keep reading and reading and reading hoping that something juicy will land on your eyes, but it won’t. You know it, I know it, the soft peen knows it. I mean, it sounds like the most scandalous thing they had on her was that she might’ve passed her poon to some billionaire once. Who cares.
I bet that in the parlor of her London townhouse, Goopy and Graydon Carter are sipping sparkling dolphin tears after toasting to their STUNT QUEEN victory. Vanity Fair got some publicity and Goopy looks like she has the power to scare whores. We’re the ones who really lost. I feel so used and I usually love that feeling.
Goopy Paltrow came out of Blythe Danner, so what’s a Blythe Danner to do? She can either defend her daughter against the peasant haters until the end or she can ensure that her daughter will never talk to her again by stocking her cupboards with canned cheese. Blythe is choosing to defend Goopy, because say what you want about her pretentious ass, she makes a delicious white truffle, dolphin meat and gold dough pizza. So at the opening of the Off-Broadway play The Commons of Pensacola, Mama GOOP looked down and spit on all the jealous, bored bitches who constantly use their keyboards as a bow to shoot out cunty words about her perfect, amazing daughter. Blythe said this when Naughty But Nice Rob asked for her thoughts on her daughter’s haters:
“I admire her so much. It (the criticism) doesn’t faze her. I think it probably did initially. She said, ‘Mom, I’m going to get this all my life. This is how they see me.’ I feel she’s just extraordinarily accomplished in every area and people don’t like that, some people don’t like that, people who are bored and sit on their asses all day and just tap away. I mean I don’t read any of it, I just find it so disgusting. There is a coarsening of our culture today that is just so tragic.”
Blythe made two good points. Yes, I’m jealous of Goopy, because I too wish that diarrhea was always flowing out of my mouth since it can’t exit through my ass due to the giant stick plugged up in there. (I set myself up for that one, I know.) And Blythe is also right about the coarsening of our world. I mean, Goopy will tell you that the other day she saw a jar of Prego at Bristol Farms. Can you believe that? Prego isn’t even made in Italy! I think it’s made in Camden, New Jersey! Tragic! Disgusting! What is happening to our culture?
resemble resent Blythe’s statement. I’ll have her know that yes, I’m bored and yes, I’m tapping out words of hate about Goopy, but I’m doing it while lying down, not sitting down. Get it right, Blythe!
Here’s Blythe with SJP (her co-star in that play) and Amanda Peet (the writer of that play) at the opening of The Commons of Pensacola the other night.
Goopy Paltrow wants her Gooplings to grow up to be well-rounded blue bloods and so when she’s not teaching them to endanger lives by cutting off a peasant mobile to get to origami class, she’s teaching them Espanol! UsWeekly says that since Goopy is a born and bred European trapped in the body a dehydrated piece of American squash, she wants her children to know several different languages like European children. So at the wedding of Cameron Diaz’s assistant, Jesse Lutz, Goopy made her kids, Manzana and Moisés, speak only in Spanish to guests. The source said:
“Gwyneth reminded them through the party. At one point. Apple came to her table and asked, in Spanish, if she could sit on her lap!”
Goopy is the epitome of infuckingsufferable and she is one hundred percent the worst, but I can’t hate her for this.
As some of you can tell from the Spanish words I drop here and there, my Spanish is awful, shitty, embarrassing and offensive, and that’s especially tragic since my mother and my entire family on her side are fluent Spanish speakers. At family parties, my sister and I sit there like two derpy dumbasses as everyone speaks Spanish around us. The Spanish words fly by my ears, but sometimes I can catch a word or two. Sometimes I know they’re talking about me, because they say stuff like, “indecipherable indecipherable indecipherable BABOSO indecipherable indecipherable PINCHE PENDJO indecipherable indecipherable CHINO!” And what’s really shitty is that I can’t properly defend myself by cursing those bitches out in Spanish.
My mom says that she didn’t teach us Spanish as kids, because she was afraid that if we learned two different languages at the same time we’d be bad at both of them. I think what she’s trying to tell us is that our minds were too simple to handle learning two different languages. But the joke’s on her, because we suck at English too!
Anyway, that annoying trick Goopy is doing something right by teaching her kids Spanish, and mainly because when they get older they can curse her out and tell her they hate her in several different languages.
In “Why isn’t CNN, The BBC, Al Jazeera and public access covering this?” news, The Hollywood Reporter says that Goopy Paltrow is going to have to find another way to avoid waiting in the school pick-up line with a bunch of ordinary, new money peasants in E-classes. Goopy was not born with an antique Henry V-era solid gold spoon in her mouth (silver spoons are for rich common trash like Ricky Schroder) just so she can stare at the back of some pleb’s basic car. But she might have to get used to it, because her kids’ school has declared the pick-up line as a NO VESPA zone. SHOTS FIRED!
A couple of months ago, bitch almost turned Apple into applesauce when she shifted her Vespa into the cunt gear and cut off a school bus after picking her kid up.
In a shocking turn of events, the driver wasn’t fired and the bus wasn’t destroyed for daring to get in front of the almighty GOOP! Instead, the school is punishing her. The school didn’t fully call out Goopy when they announced the ban. They only said they were banning Vespas due to “safety concerns.” Goopy’s spokeswhore denies it.
How dare that school punish Goopy like this. A bunch of commoners punishing Goopy. Ridiculous! If this was medieval England, all those basic school officials would be dragged out into the middle of town square and punished by being forced to read one of her shitty cookbooks line by line. They should give Goopy her own gold-paved entrance for being charitable enough to allow her children to grace the bland American walls of that school with their noble British presence. But you know, I bet Apple loves the Vespa ban, because now her mom will have to wait in line and won’t be able to just zip in front of everyone to get her. This gives Apple time to jump into the backseat of a car waiting in line and scream, “PLEASE, take me to the nearest McDonald’s! I’ll pay you…but I only have Euros.”
And if you’re a rich whore who doesn’t know what the phrase “insufficient funds” means and are looking for ways to waste your money on stupid overpriced shit this holiday season, the Annual GOOP Gift Guide is out!
(Pic via Bauer Griffin)
If real life was Hairspray, Gwyneth Paltrow would be Velma Von Tussle, Vanity Fair would be Tracy Turnblad, Dlisted would be Corny Collins, and the rest of us would all be Link Larkin swooning over the framed picture of Vanity Fair on our night stand. Just like Velma spent every waking hour trying to get Tracy booted off The Corny Collins Show, Gwyneth is funnelling all her smug hatred into bringing down Vanity Fair. Today’s Question With an Obvious Answer is: Do we think Gwyneth was a bully in high school?
Radar reports that despite Vanity Fair’s latest issue lacking the expose, Gwyneth isn’t sleeping soundly just yet. A source claims:
“It’s still going to run and it could possibly break online in the next two-three weeks. Too many resources have been plowed into it and too many bridges have been brined for it to be killed. She wants the magazine’s reputation destroyed before they can even publish anything on her.”
Even though Gwyneth has publicly bragged about how few fucks she gives what people think of her, behind closed doors (very expensive doors on special hinges that you cannot afford) she’s up all night sending out mass emails begging her friends to destroy Vanity Fair’s reputation before the story is published. It’s reported that she’s convinced George Clooney to withdraw from the magazine’s Hollywood Issue cover, but others, like Julia Roberts (who is close with Vanity Fair’s editor-in-chief Graydon Carter), have not been so responsive.
“[Julia] is ignoring Gwyneth, has no problem with Graydon and is happily still committed to appear on the cover of that issue,” the source revealed, noting that the refusal to bend to Paltrow’s wishes “has probably ended any chance of a friendship between the two of them.”
Ouch. Sounds like Julia responded to Gwyneth’s email with an extra-strenght eye roll and the dealwithit.gif. In other news, did I just start hating Julia Roberts a little less? Julia just proved that no matter how deluded you are to think you could take down an entire magazine, there will always be somebody with a bit more power, laughing at you as they forward your emails to the trash bin.
And if you’re ever having a bad day, just imagine Gwyneth Paltrow at home shitting herself in a pair of $350 100-mile panties every time she refreshes the Vanity Fair homepage.
(Pic via Wenn)
Goopy Paltrow cares about a lot of things. She cares that her morning maid fills her ivory bedroom bathtub with double-distilled Graydon Carter tears that are exactly 26 celsius (Goopy doesn’t know what fahrenheit is, she’s of British blood, DUH!), because if it’s 27 celsius, her delicate noblewoman skin will burn. She cares that the rhodium stick shoved up her ass is regularly polished and cleansed with the saliva of a virgin albino peacock. She cares that Chris Martin changes the skin on his lips after he sucks on his side piece’s snatch, because she’s not going to let the the pussy juices of a peasant touch her cheek when he gives her a cold kiss hello. But one thing Goopy doesn’t care about is what all of us think of her pretentious, ridiculous ass.
Goopy tells the UK’s Red Magazine (via UsWeekly) that she currently has nothing to shit out since she just finished up a 65-day air and dried kumquat seeds fast, but if she did, she still wouldn’t have any shits to give about anti-Goopers hating on her.
“The older I get I realize it doesn’t matter what people who don’t know you think. It doesn’t matter. You’re wasting your energy. It’s like, if your partner comes to you — or your best friend — and says, like, ‘Listen, I want to talk about something you did that hurt me, or I think you could improve,’ sit down and listen to what they have to say. But some friend of so-and-sos — it’s like, who gives a shit?”
Chris Martin just rolled his eyes, because the one time he tried to talk to Goopy and tell her that he’d really like to eat a cheesburger for dinner instead of an empty plate of imaginary food that he’s supposed to make and eat with his imagination, she shooed him away and made her maid escort him out of her bedchambers.
Goopy also said this about being a working mother:
“I personally think that the work/life balance for a woman should be exactly what she feels is right for her. And nobody else can set her time schedule. And nobody else can tell her how many hours a week she needs to devote to this, that, or the other. It’s like, go into a room, get quiet with yourself, and ask what is the true answer for you? And fuck what anybody else says. That idea of ‘Oh God, if I don’t show up to this concert, all the other mums are going to think I’m terrible.’ Well, so fucking what. It’s like, when I’m with my kids, I give them everything I have. And when I’m not, I give whatever I’m doing everything I have. And that’s my work/life balance.”
Apple and Moses (9 years later and I still can’t with either of those names) know that Goopy gives them everything she has, but they really wish she had carbs on her, because they’re HONGRAY. And I was actually nodding to some of the shit coming out of her mouth until she shat out the line, “If I don’t show up to this concert, all the other mums are going to think I’m terrible.” The plight of the rock star’s millionaire wife is a serious one.
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.
I’ve never really thought Goopy Paltrow was trying to be the next Martha Stewart. Sure, they both have hair as icy as their hearts and will slap their butler’s hand with a hot ladle if the silverware isn’t set out right. But other than that, they’re kind of different. Martha Stewart slaps her name on products sold at Kmart and Goopy can’t even completely say Kmart without her maid putting a rare ginger candy made by a tribe in the Himalayas in her mouth to stop the dry heaving. Martha hawks her shit at Home Depot and Goopy doesn’t even really know what Home Depot is. She thinks it’s only an employment center where you hire day laborers. But Bloomberg TV (via The Cut) asked Martha Stewart what she thinks of Goopy Paltrow trying to be the next her. Martha let a bony, stringy-haired trick know that she better bow down to the original.
“I haven’t eaten at Gwyneth’s house. And I’ve never seen how she lives. But if she is authentic, all the better. I mean, and I certainly hope she is. She really wants to be part of the lifestyle business … Gwyneth for example, has a book on the best-seller list. She must be doing something right. She’s a charming, pretty person who has a feeling for lifestyle. She wants to be a lifestyle arbiter. Fine. Good. I think I started this whole category of lifestyle.”
Translation: “Let the amateur have her little fun while the true boss perfects the world one neurotic napkin fold at a time.”
And I never knew I wanted a Martha vs. GOOP feud until now. Can we have one and then fast forward to the part where Martha takes us to the cell block by pulling an opal shiv on a bitch when Goopy accuses her of using button mushrooms instead of white truffles in her risotto?
The Internet really is a dangerous place and it can be a major health hazard. Just right now I went on GOOP and smashed my head against my laptop when I saw a basic-ass basic plaid shirt for $300. GOOP should come with a warning label, because most of the shit on there will make you want to stab your brains by sticking a chopstick in your ear hole. Goopy Paltrow agrees that the Internet can be a scary place and there’s a good reason for why parental controls exist. She tells E! News that Apple Martin saw something NRFC (not right for chirruns) on the Internet and it made her ask a million questions.
“She has such an incredible brain so she’ll ask me anything from what happens when our universe stops—what’s next? She asks me about why bad things happen, if there’s a devil? Is God real or is it an energy? “She’s super-smart. She asked me like really big stuff. The Internet is causing some of these conversations to happen earlier and earlier. She was exposed to a little something—not anything too bad, thank goodness—but by a friend who has older brothers and it’s too early. She’s only 9 and she’s an innocent 9, so we haven’t really gotten to it yet.
I just say [to Apple], ‘There are things on the Internet that are really upsetting and even as a grownup that are too upsetting for me.’ And if she has any questions please come to me and she’ll never be in trouble but that the Internet is not safe.”
Goopy went on to elaborate, “There are things on the Internet that are really upsetting and even as a grownup that are too upsetting for me like ThisIsWhyYoureFat.com and Torrid.com. It’s scary to think that a size 10 exists and you can just buy it on the Internet. Nightmares.”
Yes, the Internet can be unsafe place for children, but you know what’s really, really unsafe for children? Cutting a goddamn school bus off in your Vespa while your kid is sitting behind you.