We never pictured the normally calm-as-a-cuke Brad Pitt as the hissy-fit type, but TMZ is reporting that the actor "threw a tantrum" when he learned the first Ducati Desmosedici RR motorcyle (retail price: $72,500) had been snapped up by another A-Lister. Namely, longtime Ducati enthusiast Tom Cruise (who had been promised the bike by Ducati's North American chief). This news apparently infuriated Brad Pitt, who had allegedly already gone so far as to convince a bigwig at UPS to put a "shipping freeze" on all outgoing Ducatis until he got his.

• Britney Spears is in a padded room, deemed by a court-appointed lawyer too crazy to understand her own case, but the judge wants to check with a doctor to be extra sure she's mentally unfit because apparently he doesn't have access to television, print media, the Internet, radio or anyone who has consumed any news whatsoever at any point in the past two years.

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are posted several times a week, so send them in often—the fate of the universe relies upon it! Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line so we don't lose them) and tell everyone about how your spotting of Jimmy Fallon confirmed everything you always suspected about what his hair might look in person.

Tonight it was Brad Pitt's housekeeper calling the cops after a paparazzo blocked the star's driveway with his car; yesterday brought footage of the disturbing-but-not-technically-illegal hounding of Eva Longoria at an LA hair salon; Monday Britney called the cops to "contain" the paparazzi swarming all up in her driveway. Aggressive hordes of paps are nothing new but why the pronounced viciousness so far this year? Declining returns on the once-daunting Britney Spears economy? Pap desperation to meet ballooning subprime mortgage payments, what?

All you needed to do was take one look at Angelina Jolie's SAG Awards gown, a billowy sail of silk charmeuse that could have easily smuggled a schoolhouseful of multicultural toddlers, to wonder if the actress wasn't perhaps camouflaging something beneath all of that fabric. The world, of course, was not caught entirely off guard: News of a possibly Jolie-Pitt twins pregnancy inched its way up the tabloid totem last week, up from the paparazzi blogosphere, into the pages of supermarket literature, and now arriving in the semi-legitimate pages of Us Weekly:

As much as we have tried to express restraint in the latest episode of Jolie Wombwatch, these photos of Angelina sans bubbly at last night's SAGs are hard to look at without a raised eyebrow or two. Sure, we sometimes drink water at parties, but that's mainly because we're broke and don't feel like spending 18 bucks on a sip of cheap champagne. So, with that in mind, let's recap the facts that we know up to this point: Angie was wearing a muumuu, the Pitt-Jolies can afford champagne, and water does a pregnant body good. We entered these facts into our trusty supercomputer and the results came back with 90% certainty that Mrs. Jolie-Pitt will soon be buying a few of those trendy expandable waisted Seven jeans at Kitson (as long as no animals, babies, or trees were harmed during the manufacturing process, that is).

The rackalicious, curvalicious and usually teensy-waisted Angelina Jolie wore, for the first time in years, a real live muumuu to last night's SAG Awards, adding a bit more plausibility to all those rampant 'preggers with twins' rumors. Wearing a strapless vintage Hermes floaty number and clutching Brad's arm all the way down the red carpet, any signs of the pillow-lipped Perfect 10 bod were literally camouflaged (those brown, beige and gray shades would work well in Iraq) by a dress so long and wide that anyone stepping within ten feet of the (possible) new mother of twins would have slipped on its spacious circumference. Even more suspicious? Her decision to carry a shawl, lest anyone dare take note of her newly plump arms.

• Angelina Jolie wore this hideous Hermès dress to the Screen Actors Guild Awards, even though they're the new Oscars, and so now everyone thinks she's pregnant. [LA Times, Mail]

Late yesterday, we expressed some healthy skepticism about x17online's claim that an "inside source" had exclusively—exclusively!—revealed to them that Angelina Jolie, in her latest extravagant act of generosity to a world desperately in need of the salvation that only her womb can provide, had decided to become pregnant with twins, providing Chosen One Shiloh with the much-needed back-up the genetically perfect, anointed toddler will need to carry out her future missions of mercy across the globe.

Reluctant as we are to fall headlong into the gurgling, powder-scented embrace of any celebrity baby news delivered to us Xclusively by the suspicious-item blogging arm of international paparazzi outfit X17, their report that globe-traipsing orphanologist Angelina Jolie is heavy with not one but two biological offspring (Brad Pitt's two-headed fish can swim!) seemed to us almost too exciting a possibly-true story not to pass along to our readers:

What kind of Bizarro Hollywood are we living in, where the Critics' Choice Awards could very well become one of the crowning moments of the 2008 awards season? We've never been so desperately in need of the SAGgies in all our lives! But we're getting ahead of ourselves. First, a round-up of last night's delightfully well-attended Broadcast Film Critics Association honors:
· No Country For Old Men took the most trophies—whose design fittingly looks like some kind of torture device Anton Chigurh might use—including Picture, Director, and Supporting actor. Juno and Hairspray took two lesser awards each. Daniel Day-Lewis and Julie Christie took Actor and Actress, respectively. [AP]
· The last stars to arrive were also the biggest: George Clooney, then Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, who managed to pry Angelina away from reporters before she could tell them about her desire to adopt America Ferrera, or any of this year's other Golden Globes orphans. [The Envelope]

People's 25 Best Celeb Photos of '07 has a little something for everyone, from a nippy, wet-T-shirted Brad Pitt hoisting Pax and Zahara, to Lindsay Lohan flashing her signature peace-sign in a bikini, gold fuck-me pumps, and a SCRAM. How could 2008 possibly top that? [People]

A sleepy trade round-up for Christmas Eve:
· I Am Legend continues to clean up overseas, accidentally giving foreigners the impression that Manhattan is a sparsely populated American island with inexpensive real estate and some overzealous homeless people. [Variety]
· Much like the war in Iraq, except with fewer babies on the front lines, the writers strike proves elusive in putting a face on the enemy. [Variety]
· 2007 will go down as The Year the World's Biggest Stars Proved to be Gigantic, Useless Wastes of Hundreds of Millions of Studio Dollars. We're looking at you, Pitt, Cruise, Kidman, and Cera. Oh—strike that last one. Kid's on fire. [Variety]

· The Writers Guild has decided to picket the Golden Globes, a move that may make the decision to skip the ceremony easier for conflicted members of SAG. However, the possibility is raised that WGA protestors could be set up far enough away from the Beverly Hilton's entrance that actors who decide to attend could be spared the shame of physically crossing a picket line. [Variety]
· Meanwhile, organizers for the Globes scramble to figure out how to put on a show without writers, while talent awaits official word on whether or not they should cancel their table reservations in solidarity—a "topic so sensitive that a number of publicists — including Alan Nierob, who reps Mel Gibson and Steve Martin — wouldn't even comment about why their clients weren't commenting." [THR]

The life of beneficient Hollywood superstar/globetrotting United Nations Goodwill Ambassador is not an easy one; just when she thinks she may have finally found a break in her schedule that might allow her to spend more quality time with her well-meaning, monosyllabic life-partner and their multicultural brood of adopted refugees, trouble erupts in a far-flung village, its imperiled residents shine their Jolie Signal (the gun-toting silhouette of Lara Croft) against the darkened night sky, and our heroine iis torn away from her family once again:

This is an occasional column by one of the authors of The Underminer, Or, The Best Friend Who Casually Destroys Your Life. This time around, we learn that the only thing cooler than going to Art Basel is Xmas in NoLa with Brad and Ange.

As long as we're on the subject of a certain high-profile couple and their extravagantly large family: "Los Feliz has the reputation of being a safe and peaceful LA neighborhood. But shortly after 4 a.m. on Nov. 27, gunshots rang out — just 25 feet from where Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie live with their four children. Life & Style has learned exclusively that a gunman, believed to be driving a Saab, fired two shots, striking a Range Rover owned by a local resident and hitting the driver's- side window of a camper van used by Brad and Angie's security team. 'It was crazy,' neighbor John Martinez tells Life & Style. 'If anybody had been in the car, he or she could've been killed'." It's certainly a relief that this story seems to have no direct connection to the mag's WHERE'S SHILOH? cover piece; no foul play is suspected in the mysterious disappearance of the The Chosen One from the pages of the supermarket checkout rags, just Jolie's preference for keeping the the boring blob away from the paparazzi until she learns to play to the camera as well as her more interesting siblings. [L&S]

"I'm here with Bart Pitt—Brad—Pitt in tornado-ravaged New Orleans, a city that Brad—Brad! Wait, I got it right that time, stop correcting me in the earpiece—here has pledged to help rebuild. So, Brad. The kids. How many are we up to now? Fifteen? Four.

Unlike pal George Clooney, who steps out onto his front porch each morning and sings a love song to Hollywood with the chorus of bluebirds who've alighted upon his outstretched arms, a gloomy, world-weary Brad Pitt seems to be waiting around for someone to tell him his time is up: "I figure I've got very few films left. Who knows how many I'll get to do now, so I want to do something I'm interested in. Otherwise, I don't want to bother. I think it's a younger person's game." And oh yeah: no more nude scenes, because he doesn't want to be sitting on the couch with Maddox and Pax years from now, having to sheepishly explain why daddy thought that having his ass exposed or wang hanging out was "essential to the character" when one of his movies turns up on HBO. [People]

· A rebounding Universal tries to shake off its recent jilting by Brad Pitt by climbing into bed with Russell Crowe, inviting the actor to partake of Pitt's State of Play sloppy seconds. [Variety]
· Even though it feels like there's been nothing good to watch on HBO since the end of The Sopranos (Flight of the Conchords notwithstanding), the network's subscriber numbers have actually risen slightly since the Best TV Show in The History Of The World went off the air. We suppose we have no chose but to credit (at least in part) all the fucking on Tell Me You Love Me for retaining viewer interest. [THR]