Goopy Paltrow was honored at Variety’s Power of Women luncheon (or as she calls it, “Variety’s Power of Gwyneth Paltrow…And Some Other Women Too, Whatever” luncheon) on Friday and while talking to reporters on the red carpet, she turned herself into distilled organic steam and blew herself up into Taylor Swift’s b-hole. According to People, Goopy said that her 11-year-old daughter Apple Martin is a big Taylor Swift fan and she approves, because Taylor of Sunnybrook Farm is a serious businesswoman, a songwriter and doesn’t show up to events nipples-out naked. Yes, Goopy hated on naked chicks on the red carpet at a female empowerment event.
“She loves Taylor Swift, and for me, that’s such a great sign. Taylor is a girl who’s incredibly talented. She writes her own music. She’s not naked on the red carpet. She’s an incredibly astute businesswoman, so with role models like that, [Apple] can’t go wrong.
I really think that that generation is going to do something very special. Those girls, they are so in their power. They are absolutely shameless in terms of their femininity, and I think we’re on the verge of something really exciting.”
Okay, but besides my idol Micaela Schaefer, who in the hell shows up to events completely naked? I wish many of those famous types showed up completely naked, because it would probably be more pleasing to the eyes than the ugly shit they wear. But seriously, Goopy self-shaded herself with that comment. I mean, we all got a good view of her nipple knobs when she showed up to the Oscars looking like a frumpy goth Heidi and a couple of years ago she told us she had to shave off her Goop fur to wear an elegant see-through gown. Oh, Goop, I see you sitting next to a pile of freshly polished marble stones imported from Italy in your 15,000 square foot Baccarat glass house.
Here’s a bunch of pictures from Variety’s luncheon thing including some of a lube-faced Goopy looking like a cocktail waitress at a Pope-themed club.
At the NYC premiere of NBC’s The Slap last night, photographers were overhead saying, “Okay, stop playing, who sent this Sphynx cat in Uma Thurman’s place,” when Uma Thurman showed up not looking like Uma Thurman.
UsWeekly, E! and The Daily Mail all looked at these pictures of Uma and threw the same, “hmmmm…your face doesn’t ring a bell,” look that North West throws at Kim Kartrashian when she’s collected from the nanny for a photo-op. Some think that Uma got the Renee Zellweger Special and Botoxed and pulled her face into a new one. I don’t know. Here’s a picture from another event on January 28th:
It might just be a case of Uma SANS eyeliner and mascars. Maybe the new equation is: Uma Thurman – mascara – eyeliner + red lipstick + slicked back hair + drawn in brows = the spawn of Anjelica Huston and Tilda Swinton. I haven’t seen the reviews for The Slap, so I don’t know if they’re bad, but maybe she’s embarrassed by it and didn’t want to show her face at the premiere, so she showed a new one instead.
Pics: Wenn.com, Getty
Take comforting in knowing that if you read the words “on the bathroom floor” and immediately started singing Shaggy’s “It Wasn’t Me“, you’re not alone. Thandie Newton, star of the most important films of the 21st Century, Norbit (RASPUTIA FOREVER) and also other less significant movies like Crash and Interview with the Vampire, revealed on the Today show Thursday that she gave birth to her son Booker on the bathroom floor of her home. And no, it was nothing like the teen pregnancy horror stories your 9th grade sex-ed teacher would tell you as a way to frighten you into using condoms. She says she birthed all three of her children at home in her bathroom because the idea of pushing out her baby in a hospital surrounded by bedpans and lime jello gave her a case of the NOPES.
“I had just associated hospital with being ill, and I felt beautiful and healthy and wonderful when I was pregnant, and being at home is the place I felt most relaxed and comfortable. So for me, it feels normal, but there was a time when everybody had their babies at home and it wasn’t such a big deal.”
Essentially, what she’s saying is that her bathroom floor is clean enough to birth a baby on. Now cut to my bathroom, where at any given moment a tumbleweed of random hairs held together with dust and tampon wrappers and hairpins is bound to roll over your foot. Forget a human baby, my bathroom floor would be considered unfit for a pregnant rat. And just by saying that, I’m sure I’ve jinxed myself and there’s a large, greasy rat momma pushing out a litter of slimy pink babies on a pile of hair behind my toilet as we speak.