At first I thought it was a misreport but then, Minister Lincoln Douglas denied it and confirmed it simultaneously last week: Three hundred and fourteen million dollars for the NCC!
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Beauty in the eye of the bland
No. Hell to the no. Just No!
Actress Gwyneth Paltrow, 40, has been named the Most Beautiful Woman 2013 by People magazine. She beat out last year’s super popular winner Beyonce, 31, who is also supposed to be her Best Friend Forever.
Actresses Jennifer Lawrence, 22, and Amanda Seyfried, 27, were also left in her wake. But I waste no cortisol stress hormones over Jen and Manny because it is always a good idea to remind young people that they have nothing on women old enough to know when there was only one flavour Coke.
Now, Gwyneth is a sweet person and lovely mother, even though she narrowly escaped child abuse charges for naming her daughter Apple. But that blanched, flat, raised-on-organic-rabbit-food look makes me think of oatmeal and soy milk.
The People judges praised her “timeless look’’ but what time zone are they in? The Twilight Zone Time Zone, where space women never eat but instead swallow nutrition pills and sleep standing up for fear of breaking their thin little waists, which can be no bigger than toothpicks, because the world government has imposed a fat tax to save space on the over-populated planet?
Twitter was afire with cruel reactions from critics who reminded us that just a week earlier Gwyneth was voted most the unpopular celebrity in Hollywood.
Gwyneth did not make matters easier on herself by remarking in an interview that around the house she is just an everyday kinda gal, in T-shirts and baggy shorts, and with frizzy hair. Grrrr!
Yeah, Gwynnie. And then you show up on the red carpet at the Hollywood premiere of Iron Man 3 in a barely-there illusion gown and swishy tresses. Think anybody believed you when you said you did not believe the title yourself but it was nice to receive the honour?
As for her unjiggly parts, she over-shared again, telling an interviewer, cheerily, that her intensive fitness regime involves training five days a week with celebrity instructor Tracy Anderson. “It makes me look younger and feel strong. It’s like brushing my teeth, I just do it.’’
Will this woman never learn? Stone her, stone her!
Being the peacemaker type, I gave her a call last week to persuade her to wear a hijab, eat a muffin, and shut up until the restless social media hordes calmed down. Instead of being grateful for my kind advice, she got all snippy with me and grumbled that she didn’t name herself Most Beautiful and she even hinted that I might be a tad jealous. Poor dear.
Does she not know I have had to annually get injunctions against People magazine, preventing them from bestowing their titles on me?
I have no need for that kind of attention. Look what happened to Omar Borkan Al Gala, who is more devastating than most men and women, and was deported from Saudi Arabia for being too sexy.
Alas, as much as I might deserve the laurels pressed upon me, I prefer to contain my loveliness, instead of thrusting it into the faces of less fortunate women who have not yet come to appreciate their unique attributes and still cower, emotionally and psychologically, before the bland, blonde and blah.