Who’s better in bed: Brad Pitt or Ben Affleck? Gwyneth Paltrow, I didn’t need to know

Every time I finish writing a column about Gwyneth Paltrow, I amble into my shed, sigh deeply, light sandalwood incense, curse the Goop Gods and vow to ignore her.

No more columns about ski accident trials. No more columns about exploding vagina candles. No more columns about “conscious uncoupling.” No more columns about holiday gift guides that include a $28,500 Tufted Boudoir Chaise for the well-heeled to get their freak on with kinky stirrups and dungeon restraints.

I’m not religious. But pricey sex furniture is no way to honour Baby Jesus.

This is why it’s impossible to ignore Gwyneth. She keeps saying, doing and selling things that are baffling. I direct you to a recent story in the Los Angeles Times: “Ben Affleck or Brad Pitt? Gwyneth Paltrow dishes on who was better in bed.”

I’m sorry, what’s that now?

It all started this week when Paltrow was interviewed by Alex Cooper on “Call Her Daddy.” If you are unfamiliar with that podcast, imagine if co-hosts on “The View” yammered exclusively about orgasms and fave positions.

And then Whoopi offered a soliloquy on G-spots.

So Gwyneth knew there’d be no queries about Pythagorean theorem in this forum.

This would be about her carnal geometry.

And, bafflingly, she obliged with giggles and TMI.

She recalled meeting Pitt on the set of “Se7en” and how it was “love at first sight.” If she had to sleep with an ex again, yes, for sure, it would be him. I wonder what her current husband, Brad Falchuk, made of this revelation over Moondust smoothies the next morning. Or if he had followup questions as to why she’d remarry another ex, Coldplay’s Chris Martin, if forced to choose among exes to remarry.

Gwyneth? There is no shame in pleading the Fifth about pillow talk.

And why are you going on a sex podcast in the first place? You are an A-list celebrity and businesswoman. I don’t see Oprah partnering with the “Banging Book Club.”

As for who was better in bed — Brad or Ben? — Gwyneth may have blurted out a Freudian: “That’s really hard.” She had “major chemistry” with Pitt, you see. Then again, Affleck’s boudoir skills were “technically excellent.” That sounds like a backhanded compliment. “Technically excellent” should be reserved for mechanical engineers, not past lovers. But thanks to this interview, poor Ben is probably rehearsing a speech for when Jennifer Lopez confronts him by the pool: “So what exactly did you do that was so technically excellent? Do you still fantasize about her?”

“I can’t believe my daughter’s listening to this,” Paltrow laughed this week.

I can’t believe anyone is listening to this!

Some are now praising Paltrow for her whimsical honesty. Me, I’m praising her for confirming what we men have always suspected: it is women who kiss-and-tell.

Sorry, ladies. I don’t see Mr. Pitt going on a podcast to casually grade Angelina Jolie’s performance in the sack. Mr. Affleck has never said “Jennifer Garner” and “doggy-style” in the same sentence. I’ve never heard a male friend say boo about sexual experiences with a partner, past or present. Not once.

Meanwhile, I have female friends who routinely want to confide NSFW things I do not want to hear. It’s a good thing I am genetically incapable of blushing. We men take a lot of guff in this current cultural climate. But we are not the ones “dishing” on ex partners. We are not the ones grading past lovers as a spectator sport.

Gwyneth, nobody needs to know if Brad is a good kisser. Or if Ben got you hot-and-bothered by making you laugh. Your past relationships should be cherished in the sanctity of personal memory. Don’t make a public spectacle of the men you loved and ditched. They have new partners, new lives. And in the future, should you run your yap about relative stamina or private parts, that might not be appreciated.

I don’t know what’s wrong with this Gwyneth Paltrow.

If she were a gynecologist, she’d now be serving a life sentence for malpractice after encouraging women to shove yoni stones where the sun don’t shine, to say nothing of the mugwort vapour and pelvic infrared beams. If she were a cop, she’d be arresting poor saps for insufficient groin grooming. Her obsession with sex and genitalia is downright creepy. Two years ago, on a different podcast, Gwyneth was asked if she ever worked with her mother, the great actor Blythe Danner.

Without missing a beat, she replied: “Yes, I came out of her vagina.”

This week, she was even naming names of men she turned down over the years, including Johnny Depp and Leonardo DiCaprio. So now any guy who either got with her, or hoped to get with her, stands to be podcast shamed for kicks?

I need to go to my shed and blowtorch some incense.

Gwyneth Paltrow, is nothing sacred to the Goop Gods?

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