Skenazy writes:

Who'd ever heard the cute-as-morning-sickness phrase "baby bump" until about 10 years ago? I hadn't, even when my own bump looked like Rachel Ray. Now the bump's right up there with the Birkin bag — an accessory every tabloid feels compelled to comment on. "Is that a baby bump?" "Proudly displaying her baby bump ... " Or sometimes it's just an arrow excitedly pointing, "The bump," — as if they've found Osama.

Skenazy thinks that we, the public, dwell on babies — not just celeb kids but our own — because "they're our hobby, our status, our conversational calling cards, our Second Lives." Well guess what, lady? Some of us do not give a shit. Sure, the Jolie-Pitt kids are cute — the adopted and biological ones — but so are so are puppies and platypi.

But there are no platypi on the cover of Us Weekly because all women are supposed to have BABY FEVER. I hate, HATE the predisposed notion that the lack of a Y chromosome means I must involuntarily drool at the sight of an infant. Cute babies are cute, but some of them look like undone suckling pigs that need to go back in the oven. This is coming from a woman with no pets and no plants, who finds it emotionally draining to be responsible for herself and is not, at this juncture of her life, in the mindset to care for another human, animal or snippet of flora. But the tabloids seem to think we all have BABY FEVER, that no woman is immune, that if you have ovaries then you're gonna want to hear about someone else's. I'm not into babies! Hopefully I would be, if they were mine, but they're not! They belong to rich people I have never met. And the only thing worse than being expected to give a crap about a random kid is giving a crap about a random maybe-possibly pregnant woman! Is it a requirement of femininity to care about celebrity children? Am I destroying the sisterhood if I don't give a fuck about Jen Garner's uterus? Why is it suddenly mandatory to be on "bump watch"? Am I the only one who just doesn't give a shit?

Our Baby Bump Obsession [NY Sun]

The internet is not to blame for Amy's addictions; different people deal with fame in different ways. And there are plenty of non-famous people who are alcoholic crack users, to be sure. But can't constant media scrutiny and "fans" who want around-the-clock updates help fuel a star's burnout and decline? Writes Jon Pareles in The New York Times:

In their times the deaths of Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain were sudden and shocking, leaving them a legacy as handsome rock martyrs. Now paparazzi and cyberazzi would be posting frequent updates, turning trouble into spectacle, and bloggers would be mocking "fat Jim" and "krazy Kurt" as they struggled, vying to see who could be more cruelly iconoclastic. But they were pre-Internet stars. Now, there's a sleazy symbiosis that connects instantaneous worldwide visibility, publicity, marketing and narcissism. Attention addicts can get their fix with a few mouse clicks.

Why Amy Winehouse Is On The Rocks [Times of London]
In Real Time, Amy Winehouse's Deeper Descent [NY Times]

Related: The Saga Of Amy Winehouse: We Cry Uncle [Idolator]

One of the tips, "A Sexy Surprise", recommends that a woman pre-arrange for her partner to walk in on her while she is masturbating. Counterproductive! So when you're almost there, the jerk who hasn't been able to get you off should come interrupt? Boo! Another tip is to take Femi-X, an herbal supplement that's supposed to get you in the mood. Product placement, much? The only herbal supplement that's gonna help you in that department is the kind that you can roll in a Zig Zag, if you know what I mean.

And this one kills me: "Try making love in positions where you spend more time gazing into each other's eyes." Ew! They said "making love." That phrase is so unsexy that it immediately evaporates any moisture I had going on down there.

Now, while these tips are all well-meaning, the biggest problem with them is that they only suggest how a woman can get off with her partner around (including the tip about using a vibrator). For ladies in the unenviable position of never having experienced an orgasm, they need to learn how to pleasure themselves first before they can show some other person how to do it to them! An orgasm is an orgasm is an orgasm. It still counts, even if you're the only one there to witness it. Anyway, here's to National Orgasm Week. Let's all go celebrate!

"Ohhh-verhaul Your Sex Life Now" [The Sun]

If we didn't know they were both far to dumb to come up with something like this, we'd suspect that Kevin and Britney were playing us for fools.

Let's face it, Kevin was in a lot of trouble before now, having proved himself a greasy fool who sperminated the world's famous (sort of) virgin, twice, no less. He was always on a loser, because while the world will forgive Britney anything (we think she could even bounce back from drowning a puppy), they won't forgive any man who isn't Justin Timberlake putting his pee-pee in her hoo-haa.

What to do?

Easy.

Feed Brit loads of coke and ecstasy and meth and have her wear no knickers and suck the nipples of women. Which is all kinda fun, really. Then shave her hair off and send her to rehab for a nice little rest. Meanwhile, the world cries out. Bad Britney! You're a slut!

Enter, St Kevin, clutching two babies to his breast, and pledging to defend them with his life, or his drug stash or whatever.

Make sure St Kevin visits the Mad Slut in rehab. Tell him not to get high beforehand, and make sure he's wearing a serious and caring expression. Ensure presence of paps.

Finally, get St Kevin to shave his head.

Don't whatever you do let anyone know it's really because he got lice from that stripper in Malibu last week. Ensure that the barman in Vegas who's on a monthly retainer from Star Magazine is told that Kevin did it for love, and in solidarity with the Mad Slut.

Sit back, and watch the good vibes roll in.

Oh, and don't forget to call People to arrange the $40,000 exclusive once the Mad Slut gets out.

Hubby Kev's Hair for Britney[The Sun]

Probably not such a mystery when it comes to these gals, The Big Ballet troupe of Russia, average weight: 252lb.

Yup, they're big, they're beautiful and they're ballet dancers. Currently touring the UK, these girls love their food so much, their manager had to hire a catering van to accompany them from venue to venue.

In our dreams, we kidnap Victoria Beckham and force her to watch the Big Ballet troupe perform over and over again, while we forcefeed her two daily raisins instead of one. Bitch will have nightmares for years.

[Big Ballet Troupe Tours the UK] The Sun

The Brits are dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Now only the French remain, and we all know how hopeless they are. [The Times]

View Sienna Miller's breasts here, if you remotely care. NSFW, duh. [The Sun]

Naomi Campbell plagued by an imposter. Throws phone at her. [Daily Mirror]

A blogging mum has scored a book deal. We're setting up the remainder bins as we type. [The Times]

Boorish, crass, Nazi-impersonating Prince Harry is off to Iraq. Temporarily, alas. [The Guardian]

Hey! Guess what? It turns out that Pancho Dotta is not the only asshole on the modelling block!

Meet Sean Patterson, head of top US agency Wilhelmina Models. Sean is a bit worried that we might not like him very much.

He's right to be worried. Find out why after the jump.

From today's Sun:

"Sean Patterson is president of Wilhelmina Models and he's not happy. A new MTV reality show reveals his firm is staffed by snarling, snapping bullies, like agents Becky and Pink, and he's worried we'll think it's his fault. 'I wasn't always there when the cameras rolled and it was only watching the edit that I saw just how bad things got,' he admits.

By 'bad' he means Becky calling one skinny model 'a fat cow' and telling another, 'If you were less hungry for giant sandwiches and more hungry to be a top model, it would be better for all of us.'"

Actually Sean, we think you're just scared that you're going to come off like the evil shit you are.

Watch Sean squirm:

"'I was very unnerved by the, er, dysfunctionality on show,' says Sean. 'The disagreements were disconcerting but sadly that's the reality of our business,'"

TRANS: 'I don't really give a fuck but I've got to say something that looks like I do'.

"'Having said that, I can honestly say that Becky and Pink thought they were acting in the best interests of their clients. This is a very competitive business and our agents are desperately trying to make a name for themselves and the models they represent.'"

TRANS: 'Fat bitches over 80lbs don't make money.'

"'The most beautiful thing in the world is a healthy person and agencies need to be on the lookout to ensure they're not pushing models to do unhealthy things.'"

TRANS: 'We'll break out the laxatives once the TV cameras have gone!'

"'I'm incredibly proud of Wilhelmina's plus size division, which looks after models from a size 14 upwards.'"

TRANS: 'See??? We care! We do a few fatsos too!.'"

"'You can tell models to be healthy but if they can earn $10,000 to walk in a show by dropping one size or two sizes despite what we tell them, they're going to lose that weight.'"

TRANS: 'Eh, what's a couple of deaths or ten? You can't make a size zero omlette without breaking a few eggs!'"

[Sean Patterson is also a prick]

Earlier
[Pancho Dotta is a prick]

Ever eager to advance the story, The Sun brings us the tale of THE CURSE OF THE PLAYMATES! Stop yawning, you at the back.

"Anna Nicole Smith is one of 25 women who met an untimely death after stripping naked for the mag's centre pages. Three Playmates have been murdered, four have died from overdoses, four were victims of car accidents, 12 died from illness including cancer, and one died in a plane crash."

Fair enough, although as former Playboy 'lovely' Pat Sheehan, who dated Elvis you know, died last year at the age of 74, we kind of feel she had a good run. And at 69, surely Betty Blue - once married to adult film director whathisname - didn't have THAT much to complain about when the grim reaper called. Or even '38DD' Jean Cannon, who reach 64 before breathing her last.

But whatever. Never let the facts get in the way of a good curse, eh? And there are plenty of other tragic sordid porn star deaths to prop it up. Not least dear old Anna Nicole herself.

Now if we could just get Paris Hilton to reconsider that Playboy cover......

[click here for dead pornstars]

Those crazy kids in Japan have come up with a capital wheeze: Making boobs out of bums!

And not just bums - you can donate your flabby thighs and spare tyre to your chest too!

"Using the patient's own tissue means there is no risk of rejection and it keeps the breast looking and feeling more natural than normal boob jobs. Earlier attempts failed because some fat would die and form lumps. But the stem cells coax the growth of blood vessels and the new tissue grows into the breast.

So far 39 women have had the op in trials in Japan. Tokyo surgeon Kotaro Yoshimura said: 'I believe my procedure will be available within five years.'"

Someone tell Victoria Beckham that her petrified canteloupe boob days are almost over! Hurrah for science!

[Goodbye bum, hello boobs]

And speaking of The Sun really caring about catwalk pants poopers, we were delighted to welcome the paper's campaign to ban size zero models for London's upcoming Fashion Week.

"The models are not just a danger to themselves, they also act as role models for impressionable young girls and women across the country, who have an average dress size of 16.", thunders Rupert Murdoch's bastard print-splattered child.

All well and good, but we can't help thinking that the campaign is just a teensy weensy bit undermined by the article just above it, entitled 'How the A List fit their frocks. EVER wondered how Hollywood's hottest starlets slim down for Awards season? From Jessica's taut tum to Pammy's pert bum, we round up the secrets behind the hottest A-list bodies.'

Size zero, anyone?

[Thin is bad]
[Except in Hollywood]

This poopy pants trend is really beginning to fly!

Today a top former bulimic catwalk model emerges from the poo-lined closet and reveals her own, tragically pungent date with craptastic destiny:

"The fashion industry loved me - I was a size zero but I couldn't be skinny enough. I was getting all this work and could fit into the trousers they wanted me to, it was addictive. Only some former lingerie clients in London told me I was too thin.

I was sick at any opportunity. I was once so sick on a flight that I blocked the plane's toilets. Then around two years ago, I was on holiday with my family in Dubai. I had bad diarrhoea and I couldn't hold it in because my body had packed up. My dad had to carry me to the toilet with a towel over me.

I will never forget it because it was one of the humiliating moment of my life.

Well. Quite. Bad enough to shit yourself in public, but to do it in front of your dad. Ech.

[Poopy pants goes international.]
[Poopy pants. The early years.]