MONDAY, OCTOBER 5 Welcome to another week where we serve up the steamiest turds from Tinseltown, dears! Now, let's be honest: Last week's gossip roundup was a rough one—full of chimo celebs (Roman Polanski), devastating discoveries (Justin Timberlake's already dating Rihanna, like two secs after dumping the fish-faced Jessica Biel? He didn't even give us a chance!), and quiver-inducing quotations ("It is a crease in the young lady's panties," sayeth skeevy So You Think You Can Dance judge Nigel Lythgoe, for reasons we'd rather not go into). So, we're going to do our very best to make this week's One Days uplifting, cheerful, and inspiring! Ready? Let's do it! WELL... CRAP. That didn't last long. Just in case you're one of those few rubes who has any faith left in the human race, get ready to kiss it goodbye. Last year—right when Econopocalypse 2008 caused the worldwide financial system to tank—"banks and credit unions made an eye-popping $24 billion in overdraft fees," reports the Huffington Post, citing a study by the nonprofit the Center for Responsible Lending. In other words? While you were losing money, banks were making money—and making money because you had no money. Sigh. This week's gonna be just as depressing as last week, isn't it?

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 6 We spoke too soon! Even when we're at our most mopey, Sarah Palin has a tendency of popping up and saying something truly stupid—which is kinda life affirming, albeit in its own sad little way, right? And while we don't have anything directly from Caribou Barbie this week, we do have news about what Levi Johnston's been up to! The former boyfriend (and baby daddy!) of Palin's daughter Bristol, Levi's riding his pseudo-fame right into the enthralling world of (wait for it...) pistachio advertising! Earlier this year, there was a national recall on pistachio nuts (Salmonella? Whoopsie!), and desperate to polish their image the Wonderful Pistachio company recruited Levi to appear in an ad. The new commercial shows the teen—wearing a T-shirt with the state of Alaska on it, and accompanied by a hefty bodyguard—cracking a pistachio. The tagline? "Now Levi Johnston does it with protection!" Because of the bodyguard, you see! Ha! Oh, Everything and Everyone Remotely Connected to Sarah Palin: How you make us laugh. And laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 7 "Dr. Phil is being sued by a woman who claims the TV shrink held her captive inside his production offices, forced her to stare at a naked man—and then grabbed her left breast," gleefully reports (at least they were classy enough to run the tasteful headline, "Dr. Phil Trapped Me, Touched My Boob"). Shirley Dieu filed the suit in Los Angeles, claiming that when she sought therapy from Dr. Phil, he tried to "brainwash" her and subjected her to physical and emotional abuse—like being "in the same room with a completely naked live man while he exposed his entire naked body, genitals and all"—and that when she tried to escape, she was "blocked by the staff." (We're assuming she means "restrained by the employees of the facility," but in a case like this, a phrase like that can have ever so many meanings.) Dieu also claims that Dr. Phil "touched her left breast during her therapy session," and since her accusations bear some remarkable similarities to the last weekend we spent in Old Town, we feel we can offer a smidge of unsolicited advice: Hon, you simply have to add some compensation for pain and suffering into this suit. Just the thought of Dr. Phil getting frisky is giving us PTSD—in fact, we'd be happy to turn this into a whole class-action deal, if you'd like.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8 This week the news broke that Marge Simpson will appear on the cover of an upcoming issue of Playboy, inspiring 1,000 lazy news editors to write 1,000 lazy headlines proclaiming "Aye Carumba!" Playboy says the pictorial inside will feature "implied nudity." IN RELATED NEWS... Print media continues its screeching death throes, desperately clawing at each and every dumbshit idea it can in a pathetic attempt to regain relevance. Um... except for this newspaper, of course. Obviously. Right. Moving on!

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9 Today President Barack Obama won the Nobel Peace Prize. While an American president being granted such an honor isn't unprecedented—Teddy Roosevelt, Woodrow Wilson, and Jimmy Carter all scored Nobels—seeing Obama win one, and hearing him humbly react with a vow to "accept this award as a call to action, a call for all nations to confront the challenges of the 21st century"... well, it's almost enough to bring a tear to our eyes. At the very least, it was enough to make us forget about that creepy Marge Simpson business.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 10 [Note: Today's entry for One Day at a Time will be written by Hubby Kip, who's been so verklempt about the following news that he's been silently weeping all day. We can't blame him, we suppose; he feels roughly the same way about the person in question that we feel about our beloved George Clooney. Take it away, Kip! And for god's sake, stop whimpering like a goddamn toddler.—Ann] Thank you, Annie. Attention readers: Well, well, WELL! CHRISTINA HENDRICKS got MARRIED this weekend! You might not know who "CHRISTINA HENDRICKS" is, but I bet you DO know who she is on the TELEVISION, and that's JOAN from MAD MEN! You fellas know who I'm talkin' 'bout! Va-va-VOOM, am I right? (I'm right.) For those of you whose wives actually let them watch SportsCenter and not just boring TV, Mad Men is a boring show full of boring people who wear stupid clothes and talk about old-timey crap. It's like That '70s Show, except there's no funny foreign kid. Anyway, I only watch Mad Men for two reasons—and both of 'em are Joan's! No, for real, though, every once in a while, somebody's FOOT GETS RUN OVER BY A LAWNMOWER, which, I will admit, is pretty sweet. Anyway. Have you SEEN Joan? AM I RIGHT? So Joan or Christina or whatever you wanna call her got MARRIED to some DORKY LOOKIN' DUDE today, and if I ever see that dude, I'm gonna punch him, 'cause I guarantee you he don't deserve what he's got, 'cause it's a FACT that Christina Hendricks is the Hottest Piece of Ass on the Planet. Uh, except for Annie. P.S. I am totally not crying right now and I don't know why Annie would write that because that is a lie. [Thank you, dear. Now be a good boy and take out the garbage while we try to salvage this week's column.—Ann]

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 11 It's official: Suri, the spawn of Tom Cruise and his child bride Katie Holmes, will not be going to a Scientology preschool, but rather a Catholic preschool! "The Church of Scientology has always been a bone of contention between the couple and Tom wanted three-year-old Suri to be raised a Scientologist," the Daily Mail reports. "But last week Katie enrolled the toddler at the Catholic Charities Yawkey Centre for Early Education and Learning in Boston, Massachusetts." What might be good news for Suri, however, is bad news for Scientologists everywhere, according to Emperor Klaktu of Rigel VII. "Balderdash and hipperwhistle!" bellowed the emperor when reached for comment. "Our Scientology Consciousness-Training Centers utilize only the finest in Cardassian thetan-cleansing technology and Andorian holo-mindwipes! How will young Suri learn of the prophet L. Ron's message to humanity? How will she learn to survive taunts from Earth's unenlightened plebeians? How will she know how to avoid Thangarian snare-beasts? Will Katie's beloved 'Centre for Early Education and Learning' teach young Mistress Suri any of these things? Bah! I think not!" IN RELATED NEWS... Today the Catholic Charities Yawkey Centre for Early Education and Learning was vaporized in an Independence Day-style explosion, most likely caused by a powerful laser emanating from the general direction of the Rigel System. When reached for comment, Emperor Klaktu only asked that we pass on the message that Headmaster Xanthor is "eagerly anticipating" greeting Suri, along with the rest of this parsec-year's brood-class.