An audience member during a recent episode of the ABC show “The View” called Whoopi Goldberg an “old broad.” It happened on Wednesday’s show when Goldberg and her cohosts took their seats to begin the show and the audience member shouted the words and Goldberg was taken aback.
We’re happy to see ya’ll. Cool, well, go on and have a seat, she said before addressing the heckler.
“Did you just call me an old broad? Yeah?” the 67-year-oId actress said to the heckler.
The camera then showed a woman who was wearing a large fur hat.
“She said, ‘You old broad,’ and I was like, hey, it’s Wednesday, and I am an old broad, and happy about it,” the host said before cohost Sunny Hostin said that being an “old broad” was better than “the alternative.”
The aIternative is not attractive to any of us, the stress said. “We all want to be old broads and old dudes, you know? The show’s cameras continued to show the woman again and again for the entire episode.
Goldberg caused controversy in December after making controversial statements again.
She had to apologize again for the comments she made about the Holocaust. As she was promoting her new movie “Till,” about a young black child who was viciously mur**red by a gang of white men in 1955, she was asked by a reporter about the comments she made on the show.
Earlier this year, Goldberg was suspended from “The View” for claiming the Holocaust was not about race. She apoIogized for the comments but in a new interview with the U.K. paper The Sunday Times, it appears her apology may not have been sincere.
“Remember who they were k!lling first. They were not killing racial; they were k*lling physical. They were k*lling people they considered to be mentally defective. And then they made this decision,” the actress said.
Journalist Janice Turner explained to Goldberg, whose real name is Caryn Elaine Johnson, that there were race laws the Nazis created against Jews and said that “Nazis saw Jews as a race.”
“Yes, but that’s the killer, isn’t it? The oppressor is telling you what you are. Why are you believing them? They’re Nazis. Why believe what they’re saying?” she said.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you could not tell a Jew on a street,” she said. “You could find me. You couIdn’t find them.”
“But you would have thought that I’d taken a big oId stinky dump on the table, butt naked,” she said, in reference to her comments that got her suspended from “The View.”
My best friend said, ‘Not for nothing is there no box on the census for the Jewish race. So that leads me to believe that we’re probably not a race, she said. But on Tuesday, a representative for Goldberg sent a press release that showed the host apologizing for the comments.

I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN’T GET AN INVITE TO MY CLOSE FRIEND’S WEDDING — WHEN I CRASHED IT, I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD WHY.

The air in the elegant ballroom hung heavy with the scent of lilies and unspoken words. Guests, dressed in their finest attire, buzzed with excitement, their conversations a low hum against the backdrop of soft music. I stood frozen at the entrance, an invisible ghost amidst the throng of well-wishers.
My name was Sarah, and I was crashing my best friend’s wedding.
It had all started with a casual conversation. “So, have you heard?” my friend, Emily, had gushed, her eyes sparkling. “Amber and Ben are getting married!”
“Amber? Oh my god, that’s wonderful!” I’d exclaimed, feigning excitement. But a seed of doubt had been planted.
Weeks passed, and invitations arrived for everyone I knew – everyone except me. I tried to convince myself it was an oversight, a simple mistake. Maybe the invitation had gotten lost in the mail. Maybe Amber was planning a special surprise for me. But as the wedding date drew closer, my hopes dwindled.
The day of the wedding arrived, and I found myself inexplicably drawn to the venue, a grand old mansion overlooking the lake. Dressed in a simple black dress, I slipped in unnoticed, blending into the crowd of elegantly dressed guests.
The room fell silent as I made my way through the throng of people. Whispers followed me, a hushed murmur of disbelief and pity. I felt eyes boring into me, judging, analyzing. I had never felt so alone, so utterly invisible.
Then, I saw her. Amber. Standing at the altar, her face radiant, her eyes sparkling with happiness. But the moment our eyes met, the joy in her eyes vanished, replaced by a look of sheer terror.
And then I saw him. Her groom.
My breath hitched. It was David. My ex-boyfriend.
The memories came flooding back – stolen kisses, late-night conversations, promises whispered in the dark. David, with his charming smile and his infectious laughter, had been my first love. We had been inseparable, until he abruptly ended our relationship, citing a need to “find himself.”
The betrayal, the hurt, the shattered pieces of my heart – it all came rushing back. So this was why she hadn’t invited me. She had been afraid I would ruin her wedding, would expose their secret, would remind everyone of the man who had broken my heart.
The room seemed to spin. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me, the festive atmosphere suddenly suffocating. I turned and fled, disappearing into the night, the sound of their wedding vows echoing in my ears, a cruel reminder of the love I had lost, the trust I had betrayed.
As I walked away, I vowed to never forgive them. Never to forgive Amber for her betrayal, for the way she had used me, for the pain she had inflicted. And never to forgive David for the hurt he had caused, for the way he had shattered my heart and then moved on, without a single backward glance.
The night air was cold and unforgiving, a reflection of the icy pain that had gripped my heart. But as I walked, I knew that I would heal. I would learn to forgive, not for their sake, but for my own. I would move on, stronger, wiser, and more cautious. And I would never again allow myself to be blindsided by the betrayal of those I trusted.
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