It must be true. I read it somewhere.

Who's fat? Who's lonely? Who's feuding? Celebrity weekly round-up after the jump.

This could have been the shortest round-up ever: they're all shit, read the phone book instead.

But no. Let's plow on, if only to find out who's lame, who's lamer and who should be taken outside and shot.

Life & Style continues in its cheerfully ridiculous fantasy land, getting Jennifer Aniston engaged, Brad and Angie planning a wedding and Kevin and Britney back together. Still, it's the kind of magazine aimed at morons who think a $2 lipstick from Wal-mart will actually make them look like Jessica Alba, just because L&S told them so, so credibility is the least of their problems.

In Touch has the world's least convincing headline: Jen Looks Pregnant! She looks pregnant. Not that she is or anything. Unless she is. But In Touch doesn't actually know. So, you know, whatever. Talk amongst yourselves. As you nod off gently, you may notice that Kirstie Alley lost weight, Jessica and Nick split up, and Angelina had a baby. Gripping stuff.

Star looks unlikely to halt its circulation plunge with the horrendous looking, and totally irrelevant cover proclaiming that Reese Witherspoon (who?) and Julia Roberts are both knocked up. Even if it were true, why on earth do they think anyone gives a flying toss? They have pics of pregnant Anna Nicole Smith, topless and covered in grease. Don't eat at least an hour before looking at them. Star also has EXCLUSIVE blurry pics of Nick Lachey and whatever blow-up doll he's spilling his seed into this week. And for about the 20th time, they have a stab at Carmen Electra and Dave Navarro splitting up. Expect a glowing piece about how happy they are together next week, after Carmen's publicist's head spins round and vomits green slime over Bonnie Fuller.

With typical lack of savvy, OK! has exlusive first pics of the baby that no-one particularly cares about or wants to see - Gwen and Gavin's son Kingston. And Nick Lachey disembowelled a small child and smeared its blood all over his chest, in a Satanic ritual at Koi. Not really. He's dating a portable vagina, but there's no pics because Star beat them to it. Oh, and Jennifer and Vince are going out with each other and you just wasted a tiny little bit of your life reading that non-story. Next time just poke out your eyeballs and be done with it.

People Magazine is its usual deluded self. Britney's happy and everything's fine, Jennifer's happy and everything's fine, and Jessica is happy and everything is fine and the earth is flat and the moon is made of cheese. They crown their hottest bachelor of 2006 - Taylor Hicks, which shows such a lapse of taste there's no point in going any further down the list. Who's number 10? David Fucking Gest? The only page of any interest whatsoever is p140, where they chronicle the 20 - yes - 20 men who have crawled up Lindsay Lohan's firecrotch in the one year she's been legal. A few even made it back out again.

This week's prime candidate for euthanasia is US Weekly, with an edition so bland, its lifeless pages almost disintegrate in your hand - or is that just wishful thinking? The cover promises the inside details of Brangelina's first days home, and goes on to deliver exactly the same bland, catch-all, 'a source says' crap all the others vomit up this week in about half the space. And Britney isn't happy and Jen and Vince are dating and there does not appear to be one original thought that went into this magazine and frankly it should crawl into a corner and die.