As we noted Thursday morning, the Washington Post this week prominentaly mentioned that the wife of Democratic politician John Edwards, Elizabeth, was missing her wedding band when she recently stepped back into public view. Perhaps, we thought, this was a sign the marriage was over. But as commenter La Cieca first noticed, Edwards also went ringless in 2007; we dug through photo archives and found she's been slipping her ring on and off for years now, seemingly without regard for the ups and downs of her marriages. The band would appear meaningless as to the state of her marriage. And yet:

John Edwards knows how to drag out a scandal. After falsely denying an Oct. 2007 report he was cheating on cancer-stricken wife Elizabeth, a more credible investigation was published in July, and Edwards spent several weeks dodging questions. He eventually confessed to ABC News, but insisted he hadn't fooled around with his mistress since 2006. Everyone thought that was bullshit, and now it looks like they were correct: The Washington Post this week noticed Elizabeth Edwards was missing her wedding band at a recent George Washington University appearance, with her husband absent. And Page Six heard further whispers:

"They don't appreciate me." [Observer]

"Olympic hero Michael Phelps — besides banking a bundle from endorsements — picked up $100,000 for appearing at an LA pool party for a TV network chief's wife and swimming some laps." [Post]

Page Six is reporting that somebody is going through celeb trash in order to "bare their secrets," such as the prescription for Mary Louise-Parker's thyroid medication. Surprisingly, that "someone" is not Page Six themselves. We have to congratulate the garbage trawler—that's great shoe-leather reporting. (Maybe it was Village Voice editor Tony Ortega—that's how he got his got his hot Harvey Weinstein scoop!) Since we sadly have a bit of experience in dumpstering, here's a how-to guide on finding interesting things in the trash—especially since the economy's going straight to hell and you might need to.

Model/publishing heiress/socialite Lydia Hearst—who once proudly listed "journalist" among her occupations (presumably with a straight face)—just quit her column in Page Six Magazine. "The Hearst Chronicles" was full of zeitgeisty revelations like "I just ordered banana-scented scratch-and-sniff wallpaper for my kitchen," but the porcelain-skinned model did win points with us for slamming Hearst Publications for not canceling their Christmas party amid layoffs and a recession. But wait—Guest of a Guest reveals Lydia's resignation letter, in which she says she didn't even write the item criticizing Hearst:

It's official: Sumner Redstone's second marriage is finished, confirming our exclusive from Friday. Court papers were filed at the end of last week, according to the Los Angeles Times, and now the Viacom chief has issued a statement saying the split is "amicable" and that "we remain close and supportive friends." In other words, wife Paula Fortunato has finally, 14 months after divorce rumors surfaced, agreed to leave, perhaps because she got something beyond her "iron-clad prenup," once thought to be worth a flat $1 million, or because she's actually now earned $5 million, with the prenup now pegged at $1 million per year of marriage. Or maybe the former public school teacher is just tired of living with the mean mogul, 40 years her elder, and of hearing rumors he's been calling some famous comedian's wife. Whatever happened, Redstone is reaching into his pocket at a time when he can least afford it. Writes the LA Times:

Madonna's messy divorce from Guy Ritchie gives the pop star a chance to recast herself for the better, but at the moment her public image is that of a voracious celebrity monster, steamrolling Ritchie and turning Alex Rodriguez into a glaze-eyed cult follower. The Sun is reporting for tomorrow's paper that Madonna is supposedly spying on her ex, "using her huge staff to report his every move," and that director Ritchie is desperately trying to counter gossip spread by the singer's PR machine that he's a bad father. Over at the Daily Mail, the dirt is about how Alex Rodriguez is said to be spending 40 million pounds (which sounds high) to buy an apartment two blocks away from Madonna, after pleasing her with his dedication to Kabbalah:

Yohana Banda, the biological father of Madonna's Malawi-born adopted son David, is worried about the tot's future now that David's crazy pop icon mother seems to relish fighting an ugly divorce battle in public. "I am still a poor farmer with nothing to offer, but maybe he would be better off back with us," Mr. Banda said. David's biological mother died in childbirth, and Banda, 34, has remarried and lives with his wife Flora, her daughter Tiyamike, 3, and their seven-month-old son Dingiswayo in a thatched hut. Shown a picture of David with Madonna and her manager, Banda said, "He doesn't look happy in this picture. He looks bewildered. If there is no love in the family, is there any love for him? This is a new and terrible thing to happen to him. I am too upset to think clearly. He is only three years old and he has been through so much."

We got an email from a person identifying himself as the Craigslist advertiser whose "A+" "Irish/Danish" "well-endowed" sperm could be yours just for the cost of his college education. The Aryan semen factory tells us that bids on his little swimmers have been rushing in. "So far have recieved about 250 emails containing offers. One email claiming to be from Kathy Griffin. The largest offer so far is $1.5 million." Kathy Griffin? If that is true, doesn't she realize that her overwhelmingly Irish stock will cancel out his 50% great Dane genes? So, Kathy, are you really shopping around for supersperm? Let us know! tips@gawker.com

On the heels of our scoop that 85-year-old Viacom boss Sumner Redstone is splitting from his wife Paula Fortunato, Page Six is reporting that Fortunato is already packing her bags and moving out. The gossip sheet even had to credit Gawker, which meant upgrading us from "a website" or "several blogs" as had been their previous M.O. Now, a new twist. A tipster suggests, "you might want to enquire [sic] as to whether certain unsolicited calls to the wife of a famous comedian/actor are behind the split." Hmmm... Is the old dog hounding some funnyman's lady? Who might it be?

Attention friends of Madonna and Guy Ritchie: You are no longer friends with Guy Ritchie. Madge is mustering her forces for what is hopefully going to be an epically nasty divorce. First strategy, gather the troops and hunker down. So the icon is reportedly telling her friends, hangers-on, sycophants, and other assorted slaves to stay the hell away from her soon-be-ex husband. You know, she doesn't want to be discussing how her lawyers may totally savage Ritchie's character in advance of a possible custody battle over their son Rocco just to have it get back to the director and his friends.

Making a living in fashion is hard! There are so few jobs and ways to make decent money. The fifth season of Project Runway ended last night. What is to become of those who were aufed? Here's a hint: retail. We have two recent sightings of previous contestants slaving away unglamorously:

October 13: "So i was dragged to Bloomingdale's by my girlfriend yesterday, and who was working on the main floor? Stella B. Zotis from Project Runway! I couldn't believe it. She was wearing the all black uniform the sales-floor girls wear, nametag and all. She wasn't spritzing anyone with perfume, but she might as well have. October 10: "Saw Daniel V. of Project Runway fame not once but twice this evening (7:15 & 11:30), but both times working on the same project: dressing the windows for Virgin Megastore in Union Square. Does this mean he's out of the fashion design game?" May we suggest a career in snarkblogging? That's what I did after accomplishing my very important degree in costume design.

Given the number of other slimy things Christie Brinkley's ex-husband Peter Cook has admitted to doing, no one, not even Cook's own people, is particularly surprised or outraged that a video exists of the architect having sex with his teenaged assistant Diana Bianchi. "Anything is possible," a "source close to [Cook]" told Page Six. Yes, in the wake of Cook being accused by his wife posting nude photos of himself to swingers sites, admitting he masturbated on the internet and after sleeping with a woman he first met at age 15 in a toy store, anything does seem possible. Including, say, a secretly-videotaped striptease, and Cook using some teen ass as a pillow:

The new guard consolidates its power at Bloomberg. Spotted: "Norman Pearlstine and a tableful of Bloomberg L.P. staffers toasting new boss Andy Lack at Le Cirque surrounded by Elke and Ben Gazzara, Gena Rowlands, Marty Richards, Rex Reed and Nancy O'Shaughessy." [Post]

In June, reports bubbled up in British tabloids that Madonna would divorce Guy Ritchie, her film-director husband of eight years. Today, Rupert Murdoch's tabloids on both sides of the Atlantic, the Sun and the Post, are reporting that a statement should come out shortly that the couple are breaking up after shouting matches over their careers and differences over whether to adopt another child. Though the prior reports didn't pan out, it's worth noting that this time around everyone from Time to the Associated Press is citing the tabloid reports, lending the impression an open secret has perhaps been breeched. Or maybe everyone is just chasing Web traffic! Then there's the level of detail in the Sun report:

Some people see gossip as a nasty vice that should be curbed. Not us! Not Scientific American, either—they've explained why we're "hardwired to be fascinated by gossip." After the jump: science explains why we're all snark, all the time, and hate on everything.For example: do you buy the latest US Weekly if there's a dude on the cover? Practically no one does. Why? 'Cause women want to read and gossip about other women. The relentless coverage of the Britneys of the world isn't as unfair and sexist as it seems—it's what you want.

"She thinks he's amazing. She talks about him all the time." [Post]

The New Yorker's big Arianna Huffington profile may have been a letdown, with very little dirt on the politics or business of the Huffington Post, as we said yesterday. And, granted, it also failed to establish that the HuffPo publisher is a "cutthroat boss," as the Post hinted it would. But those who have spent time in Huffington's orbit seemed determined to have their say. And so it is that we have come to understand more clearly Huffington's seemingly strange remark that " a lot of people who came to the office wanted to be writers" at HuffPo but left because "the jobs are administrative." That quote left one to wonder if people signed up to be Arianna's administrative assistants and were upset because they couldn't get bylines. But no. People signed up to be editors, we hear, and were upset because they were asked to do the work of household assistants.

Sad little street fighter and sinew exhibit Amy Winehouse (pictured, left, in somewhat better days) should not blame her troubles with drugs and life and everything in it on deeply entrenched psychological angst, severe chemical imbalance, and self-doubt. Her soul has simply been stored in a volcano and shown feel-bad propaganda for the last few million years! Or whatever crap the Scientologists sell each other for tons and tons of money! Whew! In any case, they are reaching out to the haunted songstress in the hope of robbing her blind and turning her into a proselytizer for—er, that is, they are trying to save her.