Gwyneth Paltrow has always struck me as a stuck up, snobby piece of stale gluten free pasta who gets weekly crushed moonstone enemas while humblebragging about the organic vegetables she's growing in a perfectly calibrated solar garden watered with fair trade swan tears imported from Holland, shanking the eye of judgment at the peasants unable to live up to her kale and kabbalah standards. In other words, she's an insufferable cunt.
Chris Martin strikes me as a guy who'd like to have a burger and a pint at the pub with his buddies, so of course he's happy because how could you not be after consciously uncoupling from this bitch?
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