Gwyneth Paltrow Finally Gets Her Due

Yes, she sometimes has a penis; she's that talented.

In a ceremony presided over by Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth II this morning in the throne room at Windsor Castle, everybody's favorite shining star Gwyneth Paltrow received what is heretofore considered the United Kingdom's highest honor--the title of 'Renaissance Woman.'

Since I know you are all wondering, yes--QEII was looking particularly fine in the early morning British fog, her devilishly toned flesh frustratingly obscured by a brown chenille Alexander McQueen muumuu that flew off the shelves at Harrod's by lunchtime.

Gwyneth even once mastered the art of pretending to use crutches in a photo

Flush from the thrill of receiving a meaningless honor she created for herself, Ms. Paltrow bubbled-over as she addressed legions of fans from atop the tall tower while twirling her lustrous blond locks and inadvertently calling to mind a much-more-beautiful, modern-day Rapunzel:

Call me crazy, but I think 'Dames' are so old-fashioned. I'm a modern woman! Who just happens to be a throwback to Leonardo Davinci because I work so much harder than everybody else and I'm blessed. This is fun for me, but mostly it's great to think that the whole world now has a decorated role model that doesn't smell like Judi Dench and exhibits mastery in everything she touches but isn't afraid to still giggle and fart.

At that, Ms. Paltrow began launching rice cakes into the rowdy throngs of worshippers below, occasionally posing for the paparazzi with a million-dollar smile (literally) as the starving masses at the base of the stone tower tore each other limb-from-limb for a taste of the good stuff.

Scotland Yard helps quell the ruthless rioters (Photo courtesy Reuters)

Nothing Is Sacred Editor-in-Chief Goodtime Charlie had the pleasure of sitting down with Her Paltrowness for a few moments today once Scotland Yard was able to sublimate the rioters and enforce a thousand-meter safe zone around a nearby Jamba Juice with three artillery battalions and a few studs on horseback.


Goodtime Charlie: My dear Gwyneth, you look ravishing--but you probably already knew that.

Gwyneth Paltrow: Haha. I did. But that doesn't mean it isn't still nice to hear. I love positive things, I just really love being positive.

What's Eating Joe Drape's Writing Talent?

And does he cover anything but the Kentucky Derby?

Check out this gem from his Derby article today:

"In 2007, after Borel guided Street Sense to a Derby victory with a similar rail-skimming, last-to-first trip, the nation was introduced to this humble, emotional man with a grade-school education and a Ph.D-sized heart. Borel, in turn, was introduced to Queen Elizabeth II at a White House state dinner."

"A PhD-sized heart?" Really? Did we just stumble into a poorly-written 1940's melodrama? I suddenly feel like ending my days by vomiting out my own vital organs. Since when does being a jockey require a college, or even high-school, education? Is it really that rare? Methinks not.

And how big is a PhD anyway? Is it bigger than a breadbox? Is it smaller than my foot shoved up your ass?

Also, I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't point out the pointlessness of some dude affiliated with a gambling/sporting event attending a state dinner at the White House, not to mention the pointlessness of a Queen's mere existence. What does she do that needs to be done?

The only thing more unnecessary than a pope is a monarch.

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