Here it comes... the latest, hottest gossipy gab from the filth-encrusted sewers of Tinsel Town! Flash! The clearly demented Britney Spears is not only continuing to pursue her ill-fated marriage to dancer/philanderer Kevin Federline--she's reportedly moved the big day up three months. After news of the November marriage leaked like Kevin's faulty waterbed, the couple have decided to do the "smart" thing and move the ceremony to late August--as if gossip hounds like ourselves would somehow be paralyzed by this bamboozling switcheroo. Says a gabby pal, "Britney and Kevin have decided that getting married quickly is the best thing to do." According to reports, the doomed twosome will now be exchanging their vows in the garden of their new $4.5 million beachside home in Malibu. Wha... Whaaa? We thought it was going to be at the Beverly Hills Hotel! Damn you, Britney Spears! Your cunning intellect has foiled us again! Meanwhile... Speaking of dubious engagements, word has it that the May/December 1945 romance of Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore has heated up to a boil. Though the two have denied incessant rumors they are preparing to wed, Kutcher reportedly popped the question at the Sundance Film Festival, presenting her with a $30,600 diamond encrusted bracelet. Plus, Kutcher was photographed last week whooping it up at a stripper/tapas bar on what insiders have dubbed his final days of freedom. Okay... now personally? We don't give a crap whether these two get married or not. But a strip/tapas bar? We just need a few moments to decide how we feel about that.


From happy unions to painful, embarrassing dissolutions, we now move to the most humiliating bust-ups of the week! First on the menu... Spidey-Man's Kirsten Dunst has said bye-bye to boy-toy dreamboat Jake Gyllenhaal--who actually learned about the break-up from Kirsten's publicist! Owww-itcch! That's going to leave a mark. The cutie twosome were the toast of Hollywild, until Kirsten's career began to skyrocket and she began fearing for her youthful independence. According to a loose-lipped chum, "Kirsten said that she and Jake decided they were too young to be so serious about each other." [Translation: Kirsten decided.] But it gets worse. Pagesix.Com reports that a source close to the pair said, "Kirsten at first told Jake she just wanted a trial separation. They had a two-week split, and Jake thought they would get back together. But once her representative confirmed the split, he knew it was over and she wasn't coming back." Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Poor Jakie. The clue train is pulling into the station and he doesn't even have a ticket. Meanwhile... So far our wild, unsubstantiated accusation made last week about Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner taking a trip to Canoodle Town is still holding water. According to World Entertainment News, Affleck went solo to this week's Democratic Convention, spurring reporters to ask him about the whereabouts of supposed girlfriend Enza Sambataro. Affleck went on to confirm the twosome had split, and once again blamed the media for his romantic woes. "[The media attention] is too much," Affleck moaned. "Who would want that? If I saw me, I would turn the other way. I'm trying to diminish it so that someone might actually be interested in dating me." Again, tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Poor Benny. Though we might be more inclined to believe his story if he wasn't talking with Jennifer Garner's tongue still in his mouth.


For those who are susceptible to baseless rumors--we're not forgetting ourselves here--here's one we can finally put to rest: former Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein is not dead... his prostate is just feeling icky. You know, chronic prostate infections occur in nearly 35 percent of all men over 50--ousted dictators not excluded! That's why every man in this age group should submit to yearly prostate exams. However, even though Hussein's X-ray and blood tests came back negative for cancer, doctors wanted to dig up in there and take a biopsy--just to be safe. Unsurprisingly, Hussein has refused to let anyone poke inside his spider-hole to chop off a piece of his "marble of love." After the prisoner abuses at Abu Ghraib, who can blame him? Other indignities aside, who wants to see a photo of their prostate exam with a smiling, cigarette smoking private giving it the Fonzie "thumbs up"?


Though almost buried alive today by a hailstorm of balloons and confetti, John Kerry somehow still managed to accept his party's nomination to become a candidate for President of the United States of America. In his forced, but rousing 46-minute long speech, Kerry did his best to convince undecided voters that he wasn't a big chickenshit, and when it comes to terrorism, he's ready to kick some al-Qaeda ass! "With confidence and determination," Kerry loudly droned, "we will be able to tell the terrorists: You will lose and we will win." The democratic nominee also went on to repeat on numerous occasions the campaign's new mantra: "HELP IS ON THE WAY." For example, for those who wish our nation's foreign policies weren't distorted by politics? "HELP IS ON THE WAY." For those who wish they didn't have to work 27 jobs to afford a speedboat and a new Tivo? "HELP IS ON THE WAY." For those who wish Illinois senatorial candidate Barack Obama was running for President instead of Kerry? "HELP IS ON... oh. Mmmm... actually, help is going to take a little longer than we thought."


According to the Associated Press, a government survey has found that Americans spend an average of three days a month feeling "sad, blue or depressed." In a shocking twist, the more days a month people said they were sad, the more likely they were to take risks--including not using seat belts, binge drinking, and eating sushi at less than reputable establishments. Women reported an extra day of feeling blue than men. Curiously, this occurred about once every 28 days. Young adults felt the crappiest, or at least whined more, with 18- to 19-year-olds saying they were sad an average of 3.6 days a month. Those between the ages of 20 and 24, said they felt sad only 3.4 days a month, a stat that only made the 18- to 19-year-olds feel worse.


A Swedish Pentecostal pastor convinced his lover (and nanny) that she was receiving text messages from God. The anonymous messages instructed the woman to kill the pastor's wife and the husband of another of his mistresses. Naturally, she complied with the holy cell spam, killing the wife and wounding the husband of the mistress. She was sentenced to psychiatric care. The pastor was sentenced to life. The text messages, which included missives like "Grl, UR a killa," and "The Hives rawk!" were entered into evidence.


Woo hoo! Terror levels were raised to tangerine today in three cities, a color we find much more complimentary to our skin tone than neon lemon. According to the New York Times, Homeland Security secretary Tom Ridge decided to raise the alert after gathering intelligence from a 25-year-old al-Qaeda computer nerd and hearing reports of "odd activity by a group of Syrian musicians" on a flight to Los Angeles. Apparently terrorists are going to attack a bank with a truck. Very, very soon. Or at least sometime between now and the election. Ridge's most impressive evidence of the attack was a list of al-Qaeda targets that included a bank, a grocery store, a post office, and a threat to "take the trash out" on the American people. Ridge later admitted that his honey-do list had somehow gotten mixed in to his CIA debrief folder and apologized for any undue stress he might have caused.