Last week, the New York Times ran what seemed to be an innocent article about ghostwriters working for celebrity chefs including Rachael Ray, Mario Batali, Jamie Oliver and, most notably, Gwyneth Paltrow who flipped the fuck out because the article basically revealed she allows the poor to gaze upon her (Turns out ghostwriters aren’t paid very much.) which will surely embolden the peasants’ revolt her spies inform her is forming beyond the edges of the moat because clearly they don’t know she’s friends with Beyonce. The black Beyonce. Anyway, the NYT writer awesomely defended her story yesterday by acknowledging she had no idea ghostwriting was a closely guarded secret in the celebrity cooking world right before throwing the whiners under the bus:
As it happens, in their correspondence with The Times, Ms. Ray, Mr. Batali and a publicist for Mr. Oliver all said that some other chefs should have been included in the article — but not them.
Courtesy of the New York Times, The Superficial has been granted permission to publish the aforementioned correspondence co-signed by Rachael Ray, Mario Batali and Jamie Oliver:
Dearest Julia Moskin,
Per our discussion over the phone, we would appreciate a retraction about our use of ghostwriters even though you clearly interviewed them and they exist. In exchange for such an agreement, we are willing to deliver you word of Gwyneth Paltrow’s one-time purchase of oregano at a Walmart and confirmation that she refers to Beyonce as “Mammy” in private. May these truths be brought to light and revoke her membership from our secret league of Aristocratic Culinary Practitioners with the exception of Rachael Ray because she’s fucking annoying, yet will sign this letter anyway for the greater good.
Sincerely,
Rachael Ray, Jamie Oliver, Mario Batali
P.S. Bobby Flay should’ve been in your article because he knocked up January Jones. True story.
Photos: Getty
But does she swallow? That’s the major question about her.
April is coming. If you put your hand to the wind you can feel Chris Brown about to snap.
Overrated fluff with a completely untalented musician as a husband. The American Dream.
“Must have BRAINS!”*
*dipped in seasoned artisan hand churned butter and garnished with organic parsley
Served in a rustic copper pot hand-rubbed by virgins :)
With wine from the 20 or so monks of the Lerins Abbey on a small island in the Mediterranean near Cannes. They make about 30,000 bottles of wine per year the old-fashioned way.
“My eyeliner? Oh, I make mine at home from burnt puppy carcasses and honey.”
FYI FISH,
The “remember me” option isnt remembering me, something’s fucked up with the log in.
Don’t worry Deacon, I’ll remember you! I’ll remember the adventure, the romance, the deep conversations where we revealed our souls before the flickering light of the fire in our cozy winter cabin, deep in the New England woods. But mostly, I’ll remember the sex.
Agree with Burnsie. We’ll remember you…oh wait. i didn’t read far enough down. I need the sex again because I don’t remember that part? Did you hit me with some Roofies?
Frank, you were supposed to keep that shit on the DL
Doesn’t the Remember Me option end with you getting hit by an airliner?
Only the ghost of Shakespeare qualifies to write the timeless words of the goop-ster.
Which one of his ghostwriter’s ghosts though?
This chick needs a serious dose of reality in her life. I suggest some works by Camus, Kierkegaard or Nietzsche.
Ha! They aren’t ‘ghost writers’ they are ‘collaborators’ – yah, right! Now excuse me, I’m going to go ‘collaborate’ with the guy at the Taco Bell drive-thru window on getting me an extra-farty burrito.
“If anyone is a ghost writer, its me, ” says Paltrow “for I am but a conduit for the holy ghosts of Jesus, Allah, and Buddha, who fill me with their spiritual light. I then craft word on paper, a wordsmith if you will, so that others – even unattractive people – can share my enlightenment. So really, fuck off.”
So in other words, she has several people living inside her. What do they call that? Most of the time when you’re that fucked up, they put you in a straight jacket and throw you in a padded room. Please, throw her in a room padded or not and throw away the key.
I don’t think anyone actually thinks that she wrote this or anything else on her own, if at all. I mean her best friend Mario Batali just had to pay up $5 million for stealing his waiters’ tips. They are not exactly the most ethical people out there.
We should be grateful that she even breathes the same air as the rest of us.
I’d pee in her but
Ghostwriters can actually make a good deal of money, especially by working with celebrity clients. Professional ghostwriters at the high end of the spectrum can choose their projects very carefully and often make six figures on one book.
Hey, if using a ghostwriter is good enough for the illustrious Ron Jeremy, surely it’s good enough for this bottom-feeding peasant.
Seriously, his book, “Ron Jeremy: The Hardest (Working) Man in Showbiz” is really good.