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”When I pass a flowering zucchini plant in a garden, my heart skips a beat.” – Gwyneth Paltrow

Oh the lies people tell.

The above quote is from the constantly acting actress’ crookbook, My Father’s Daughter: Delicious, Easy Recipes Celebrating Family & Togetherness.

The queen of the humble brag had other noteworthy delectables such as, “You just need some good ingredients and a few simple recipes, maybe a couple of jokes or a ‘topic to dissect’ at the table, the way they do at Nora Ephron’s house.”

Good thing most of you sit when you read, or there may be many injuries after tripping over the late writer’s name there – or other celebrity friend names casually littered throughout, as if Gwynnie’s referring to everyday buds we all share.


 
 
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In the light of the $78-million price tag attached to the royal wedding, mainly attributed to British taxpayers, and due to its potential cost of $47 billion to Britain’s economy, I must state the obvious: It’s entirely unfair that celebrities have to pay for their own weddings, and dare I say, their own homes too.

Now, before you get your knickers in a bunch, allow me to explain…

As with many markets around the world, the British have been subjects of an historically feeble economy. High unemployment, a weak consumer, and rising inflation, all crave one thing: a strong investment.

 
 
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The other night, much of the world was oblivious to the horrible suffering endured by 1 billion people, and I'm not talking about the poor and disenfranchised.

I’m talking about the estimated worldwide audience that watched the Oscars telecast …

In hopes of conquering such strife, back in February, I called for a metaphoric colon cleanse of society - “Fodder-Free February.” The mission was a month-long moratorium on famous people who are well suited for passing through our bowels.

It would be a month free of banal celebrity gossip. (Luckily, I chose the shortest month of the year.)

 
 
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When I was five years old, I wanted to marry a rabbi or a shoe salesman when I grew up. A rabbi, perhaps because I’m Jewish (I really don’t remember why), and a shoe salesman, because, d’uh, I’m Shoeish

From the time I was little, I was already very left wing socio-politically. I may never have been statistically the right height for my age, but as a child, I was not usually my actual age either.

Every time I saw a homeless person, I was confused. How are there not enough places for people to live? Every time I met a fat kid, he’d become my best friend. How could others be so mean to him? Every time I could get my little brother in trouble for climbing out of his crib, I would. How could a big sister not be even a little bit mean to her baby brother?