It’s taken me 26 years to realize I’m less of a Gwyneth and more of the girl Gwyneth called Ham Fingers in junior high, and who to this very day carries the burden of a hatred so acute it manifested in the only suitable way: a double-wide trailer in the forest filled with compulsively collected Paltrow memorabilia (mostly VHS copies of Shallow Hal and wax replicas of G’s head in boxes) scheduled to be burned in a meth fire on the lawn of their 50 year high school reunion.
(Never forget Shallow Hal)
“That strikes me as an unnecessarily drawn-out revenge plan” some might think, but what can I say, Ham Fingers plays the long game and to be frank she is also not mentally well.
Hating on GOOP and everything Gwyneth Paltrow is certainly not a new topic. At this point, it’s more like an Olympic sport if the Olympics were something that I would watch and/or care about even for one second. She’s basically the girl we all religiously follow on Instagram but talk shit about at parties, which is another Olympic sport I would love.
I, as much as I hate to admit it, don’t entirely hate the premise of GOOP*** mostly in the sense that I aspire to be more like the type of person who has her shit together enough to have a “morning routine” or the patience to make and/or know what “slow juice” is or casually spend 60 dollars on GOOP GLOW powder just because.
***I mean this in terms of personal wellness and sustainability, and aspiring to act in a way that promotes both. I certainly don’t mean the classist, white-washed, and inaccessible to all others than her target market of white, over privileged women who look and exactly like her and have the same income.
MUST BE NICE
However, reality is I am myself. Yesterday I had sour cream and onion chips and a flat G&T for dinner and I don’t own, nor have I ever owned, eye cream. Gwyneth would be appalled, and I already look old. Who’s the real winner though, and I’m going to go ahead and say it’s not Apple because she must now go through life with the name of the world’s most boring fruit, or had we all forgotten this.
That poor, poor, disadvantaged child. *eye roll
And on that note, I would like to present today’s POOG post:
THINGS I AM HATING RIGHT NOW
People who call use the term “Hump Day”
I’m looking at you, Karen. Always hated it, always will. Unless you are referring to the night you meet with your Kama Sutra swingers group, it’s Wednesday and the worst day of the week. Call it by its name.
The Bachelor, which as far as I can tell is a parade of interchangeable women competing for a guy who looks like a 2002 Abercrombie model who shot one jeans campaign that never ran, but he still kept and framed the photographs on the walls of his bedroom.
But for real, everyone is super obsessed and I am tired of reading about it. All these women look like they once made a bra and necklace out of runts, but actually that was just one of them but I can’t remember whether it was Becca or Bekah or one of the Lauren B’s BECAUSE THERE ARE MULTIPLE. It feels like my fourth grade class roster. Can we get a more culturally relevant dating show plz thx, I miss NEXT and Room Raiders.
How do I say this and not be gross? Um so during our recent trip to India (something I did not hate) I had some marvellous normal GI days before contracting EXACTLY what everyone tells you that you will contract in India. I felt 100 percent fine for those first five days, I really and truly did not see it coming, but I flew too close to the sun and spent a lot of quality time with the toilet the next five and have continued to do so until this day in case you were wondering.
The part I hate the most is when is you get home and everyone is like OOH TELL ME ABOUT INDIA SO ROMANTIC AND FUN and all I can really tell them about is my nineteen point rating system for the restrooms of Goa (a book I hope to release Spring 2019). If by romantic you mean that my boyfriend didn’t leave me in the middle of the night and block my number, then yes it was romantic. Although I DID have him trapped in a small town in a foreign country to his options were admittedly limited. Giardia: I still feel like shit (pun intended) and I fucking hate it.
Carrying multiple heavy plastic bags at once
Because I am a strong and independent woman until the plastic begins to cut into my skin and everything is terrible.
Tucker Carlson’s face
Also his entire being and everything he stands for but his face just reminds me of those. It’s really the whole enchilada if it were an enchilada made of revulsion and misogyny .
When your strapless bra slides down to your stomach as you are walking around with a jacket on and then you arrive to your destination and you have this awkward lump around your stomach that is impossible to fix with any sort of discretion
Need I say more?
All teenage boys in groups of 2 or more
Need I say more?
My phone has begun to do this cute thing where is now corrects the word “how” to “joe” which is helpful when I am repeatedly typing my boyfriend’s name in every sentence I write (aka always) but unhelpful for virtually every other conversation.
Wait is it St Patricks day?
St Patrick’s Day
It’s dumb and don’t tell me what color to wear and don’t pinch me or I will cut you