Sometime during the summer of 1990, when Gwyneth Paltrow was on the set of Prince of Tides, walking the streets of Beaufort South Carolina, prancing around the set, I fell in love. I guess I fell out of love during her formidable years, when she disappeared, but when then she returned in 7even and continued to punish me in Sliding Doors. Then, as Estella in Great Expectations, she created an almost mystical character of beauty. I felt like Odysseus with wax in my ears passing by Sirenum scopuli. She was hotter than Dante's 9 circles of hell. I would've walked on molten lava for one chance at her underpants. Somewhere things changed though. I'm not sure where, but it was approximately around the time of Shakespeare in Love, Bounce and the subsequent courtship of Ben Affleck. Well since then, Gwyneth has done nothing except try her best to make me hate her. To give credit where credit is due, I have to say to Gwyneth, mission accomplished. The pictures above are from her and Chris Martin's New York apartment that was just renovated. If I were blind, autistic, and schizophrenic, with endless amounts of money, I couldn't pick out shit more tacky than this. Honestly, I have never seen something more UNlivable. She is so obnoxious it makes me sick. The kitchen looks like you're having late night breakfast at Denny's. The living room has a damn swing. That's just stupid. Did I mention everything was white. It's so ironic, one of the most promiscuous leading ladies in Hollywood during her "prime" has a house decorated in almost all white. Trust me, she cannot wear a white wedding dress. The only person she hasn't slept with is me. Give me a break with this stupid house. Jesus, I hate Hollywood.
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