Big Brother started
Megan Fox discussed her sex life... a lot.
Sienna And Rhys broke up.
Lily Allen died her hair.
Also: got drunk.

By The Gutter Sniper

Exciting news, now, as we hear that the definition of "good dad" just got a whole lot broader! Ah yes, hang up your hats social workers because it looks like you've been barking up the wrong tree for a long time. 

Not with us yet? Well hold on to the handlebars folks, you're in for a bumpy ride. In what we can only assume to be an attempt to make bad the new good (or just get some attention), some nightclub somewhere has decided to name Kevin Federline their father of the year. Because it must be so tough to outshine Britney's parenting skills.

By The Gutter Sniper

We're still not quite sure what exactly the point of Glamour's Women of The Year Awards is but they sure give good celebrity. Last night's guestlist included Lily Allen, Mark Ronson, Daisy Lowe, Hayden Panettiere, Kate Beckinsale, Beth Ditto and les Spices. All fine by us!

As for the clothes...well, where to begin? The usual contenders all looked delightful: Alexa Chung we want your wardrobe; you too Daisy. An unexpected triumph also for Sarah Brown who looked cute as a button in top-to-toe black. Ditto Baby Spice and Kate Beckinsale, but not so much Geri Halliwell who looked less like she was attending an award ceremony and more like the chairman of Drag Queens 4 Liz Hurley (or something.) 

By The Gutter Sniper

And so to the duel shores of Cannes and LA, where a veritable whodunnit is unfolding before our eyes - only the question we care about here is less who dunnit as how? We refer, of course, to the bizarre-but-riveting trans-Atlantic game of hopscotch that is the Jolie-Pitt pregnancy and possible (but not probable) birth of the couple's much-lauded twins.

'Twas only last Friday that we received news of their birth courtesy of Entertainment Tonight - but already the plot has thickened to include tales of mischief, fraud and mistaken identity. That's right people: we're talking substance here.

Peaches pole danced.
Paul McCartney tried out a new shirt.
Angelina Jolie gave birth.
Madonna was granted full custody.
Sharon Stone apologised.
The Jackson kids showed their faces.

Oh gawd. People who take offence are just so dull don't you think? I mean come on folks: it was only a frikin' earthquake. So Sharon Stone thinks it's all down to karma? Big whoop. The important thing is that she flashed us in Basic Instinct. Right?

Uh, okay we give up. Y'hear? WE CANNOT DO THIS ANY MORE.  True, there are few things we enjoy more than an intellectually-challenged 'slebrity mouthing off about their own particular brand of dumb but even we can't defend this one. Hear that? That's us done. Kaput. Shut up and sat down.

(For those few people in the world who haven't yet heard: Sharon Stone gave an interview. In Cannes. And spoke about the Chinese earthquake. You know, the one that left more than 67,000 people dead? And she blamed it all on karma...yes, karma. No we don't get it either.)

Ready yourselves, magpies, to rub your claws in glee: Roberto Cavalli is about to rock your world right out of orbit. Oh yes, we know full well that he was behind the Ugliest Dress In The History of Musical Entertainment. And yes, we do realise that he's just ever-so-slightly passe. But oh my god we think we may be in love. Seriously. Have we ever felt like this before?

For those still dazed by our sudden and uncharacteristic sycophantry please - please - turn your attention to Celia Waldon's delicious interview in  (whisper it softly) the Sunday Telegraph.

I mean Kate Moss-bashing? In a see-through shirt?  While lounging on a 130 foot, iridescent purple yacht in Cannes? Someone get this man a planet of his own; he is too fabulous for words.

Amy Winehouse won an award.
Howard Stern failed to apologise
R. Kelly went on trial
Lily Allen hit back.
George Clooney stripped.
Brad and Ange networked.
Pete Doherty got a red card

Oh jeez. Is there no end to the inanity spewed forth by the Sex And The City bandwagon? We know we said we'd put it to bed but, REALLY, this needs to be seen. We're talking serious news, people. So: deep breaths...one, two, three, let's go!

A survey by Friends Provident (haven't heard of them? Check the FTSE 100!) has been commissioned to look into - can you even bear the suspense here? - the pressing and no doubt massively relevant matter of British women and their psychogeographical identification with the SATC girls. In other words: Where Are You From And Which Sex And The City Character Are You?

Sounds vaguely familiar doesn't it? Ever-so-slightly Cosmo-Girl circa 2001. But whatevs -if it's full of meaningful insights into the many layers of womankind then, hey, why not? And boy is it it that! I mean there's shopping, there's shoes..there's even sex! What more could you want? Totally multi-layered. Check out our summary, after the jump:

Oh my god! Clear your diaries, Sloane-huggers, for tonight we have a party that promises to be quite the special occasion.' Indeed we could think of few better ways to drown our sorrows/toast the Crewe turnover. To wit: "Boutique club MAYA is taking V-VIP clubbing to the highest of the hedonistic highs over the long weekend, treating night-trotters to the latest on the dance scene featuring World's Finest Series with Supperclub Amsterdam co hosted by" - and this is the best bit - "Henry conway"(sic).

We know! Is it not too splendid for words? There's so much to love. First the introduction -  it's just so...titillating! Especially like the mention of V-VIP clubbing. I mean, are they stuttering? Or is the V for very - as in very, very important person? Or something else entirely? Vacuous perhaps? Valiant? Vain? Venereal? The possibilities are endless!