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A couple of stories of note from the weekend, which were not nearly compelling enough to halt our three-day Easter egg hunt:

· Uterus-watching glossy Star giddily proclaimed that Britney Spears is pregnant with hubby/future welfare recipient Kevin Federline's baby. We're not sure if the seed of a skanky background dancer taking hold in the womb of a white-trashy pop-star is the sixth or the seventh seal of the Apocalypse, but we'll check the book of Revelation as soon as we have a chance. This development sets up a struggle for control of the earth between the Spears-Federline spawn and the theoretical infernal bastard of Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher at the end of the year. Pierce your hearts with a barbeque fork now and save yourself from the bloody reckoning to follow.

· Jennifer Aniston filed for divorce from estranged husband Brad Pitt; hopes for the marriage's survival are apparently dashed, but the couple has now scheduled a weekly appointment to publicly copulate on a table at Trader Vic's, just to fuck with the tabloids.