The Jessica Simpson Spin Machine has once again lurched to life, belching out yet another story about the stability of her marriage to Nick Lachey. In fact, Simpson now claims that the stress of the constant speculation about her relationship has driven her into therapy:

Sometimes it's fun (read: our lives are so very dreary) to place a couple of timely PrivacyWatch sightings next to each other and muse about what they might reveal about their celebrity subjects. Readers spotted two couples from opposite ends of the tabloid speculation spectrum out on Friday night, courting are they/aren't they attention by their very presence:

At right, from the forthcoming Us Weekly, an image of probably-single poputante Jessica Simpson in posession of the international bestseller How to Deal With People You Can't Stand (click to enlarge). From the book description:

For every glossy cover story action, there is an equal and opposite publicist reaction:

No more false alarms, this time the pain is real: Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson, America's lone beacons of love and marital stability, have finally split. How do we know this? We simply walked over to the window, looked up to the heavens, and watched in horror as a dozen rainbows simultaneously turned black and fell to earth, destroying several houses in the Hollywood Hills. Also, Gawker and US Weekly told us. Our hearts go out to the former couple (especially Lachey, who is now no longer famous—tough break, kid), as well as anyone else who has suddenly realized that love is a scam sold to you by Tom Hanks movies and Thai massage parlors on Hollywood Blvd.

• Princess Michael of Kent — best known for spewing racist diarrhea all over Da Silvano last year — has now offended Oprah loving housewives around the world, claiming that the late Princess Diana was "nasty" and little more than a "womb." [Page Six]
• Photographer Dave LaChapelle claims that Jessica and Ashlee Simpson are "everything that's wrong with music." Way to go out on a limb there, dude. [Lowdown]
• Great news for The Gays: Pop singer Kylie Minogue has undergone surgery and chemo for breast cancer and, according to sister Danii, is doing well. [IOL]
• Kanye West isn't the only one noting that George Bush is pigementally-challenged. [R&M]
• And, of course, the devastating inadequacy of the federal response to Hurricane Katrina sure does look like a promising project for documentary filmmaker Michael Moore. [Scoop]

• Jessica and Ashlee Simpson cancel their People mag-sponsored VMA party after the magazine refuses to foot the bill, which would have included $20,000 for Jessica's hair and makeup. You don't even want to know how much it would've cost to spackle Ashlee. [Page Six]
• Just what you didn't want: The Tom Sizemore sex tape. [R&M]
• Spy founder and food model Kurt Andersen has reportedly sold his upstate NY farm to Chelsea art dealer Anton Kern, thus ensuring that we'll never again have to endure another Martha Stewart Living feature on his perfectly pastoral life. [Page Six]
• Demi Moore talks about naked cuddle time with Ashton Kutcher and reveals her breastfeeding tips. [NYDN]
• Journos at the Wall Street Journal are bitching about the staffers brought in to make the upcoming Saturday lifestylish pages worth reading. Major props to the disgruntled fellow who referred to the new recruits as "the JV team." Very junior year 1997, that one. [Gatecrasher (2nd item)]
• Not like you needed more proof that fans of Clay Aiken are reaching new heights in crazy, but now they're touring the American Idol star's home. Online. [Scoop]

• We say goodbye to ABC anchor Peter Jennings, who died of lung cancer at age 67, and remember his finest moments.
• We also tip our hats to Barbara Bel Geddes and John Johnson.
• Ben Widdicombe and Emily Holt win as our hottest gossips, and now we turn our judgmental eye to the staff of New York mag.
• Like manna from heaven, we score the new issue of Radar. Meanwhile, Anderson Cooper questions their financial legitimacy.
• Innocence is lost as we reveal the secret life of the cast of Avenue Q.
• We hang withe the fashionable freaks of Heatherette and the pervy freaks of Re-penetrator.
• Jessica Simpson revealed that she wouldn't know a real Vuitton bag if it bit her on the ass.
• This may not have been the most fantastic week in the world, but no news is better than incredibly bad news.

• It's relatively well-known that Jessica Simpson was paid $200k to appear on the premiere cover of the U.S. issue of OK!, but today's Page Six reveals that her genius father brokered a package deal: That fee covers six covers of the rag, and during that time Simpson is prevented from appearing in any other major magazine features. So don't hold your breath for that "Jessica's Sexy New Ankle Bracelet!" story in Cosmo. [Page Six]
• Are you not just SO totally excited for Lindsay Lohan's new album, which will contain a song expressing the pain of her broken family? Why can't you just stay out of her personal life? [Lowdown]
• As we mentioned yesterday, Kimora Lee Simmons has entered a pretrial intervention program for driving like a pot-addled maniac. Apparently, this program will keep her out of the slammer — but really, if it's not held at the Promises rehab, it's as good as prison. [R&M]
• We're not sure why Matt LeBlanc decided to confess to the National Enquirer that he almost cheated on his wife with a naked stripper, but at least she was naked. [Page Six]
• Demi Moore is seriously amazing. After being pregnant and miscarrying according to the Star and National Enquirer, she just might be pregnant after all. But at this point, do you really give a shit? Either poop that kid out or don't, let's just move on. [Scoop]

Earlier this morning, we submitted for your inspection a photo of Jessica Simpson autographing a fan's Louis Vuitton bag — which, according to an onlooker, Simpson didn't want to sign because the bag was real. Or so she thought. After the jump, your detailed analyses.

Yesterday, we ran a reader-submitted Gawker Stalker item in which Jessica Simpson seen being asked to autograph a fan's Louis Vuitton bag. Having only the utmost respect for fine leather goods, Simpson reportedly expressed hesitation and said, "Oh my God, this is real — I feel bad signing it!"

With our Daisy Dukes fully wedgied into our hindquarters, we're ready to unleash this weekend's box office predictions:

During a press event in Toronto to promote the upcoming release of The Dukes of Hazzard, star Johnny Knoxville proved himself to be a little delicate when it comes to questions about politics:

The Lindsay Lohan/Jessica Simpson gang war is in full effect. After Lohan busted the ceremonial first cap by conspicuously denying Simpson entry to her MTV Movie Awards post-party at the Standard, the Simps (gang color: cornflower) went all "no you DI'INT!" and sent dad Joe (gang handle: Daddy J-Murder) to promptly commence the yanking of weaves in the tabloids. From Radar's website:

Last week, the world (yes, the entire world, from Sally Struther's starving African children to the troops in Iraq, a veritable rainbow of hopelessly smitten humanity) was relieved when a story about an impending divorce between Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey was quickly retracted. So we're confident that this radio interview, in which an ex-girlfriend of Bam "Jackass/Viva La Bam" Margera reveals that he and Johnny Knoxville both "F'd" Simpson, will bounce harmlessly off the happy, Teflon couple. Perez Hilton helpfully transcribes the interview:

Finally, some closure.

Before we do this, promise us you're not going to cry, break expensive China, or throw your 98 Degrees records in the fireplace, OK? And just because the gun's already in your mouth, tempting you with sweet, hollow-point release from the pain you're about to feel, doesn't mean you have to pull the trigger.

Just in case you're the type of flat-earther that still believes in (or still in any way cares about) the viablity of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey's marriage, the Las Vegas Review Journal's Norm Clarke attempts to stick the proverbial fork in MTV's favorite couple:

Just yesterday, we thought we were on the verge of an astonishing turnaround in the publicity profession, as we exuberantly hoped that a Risorgimento Pubblicità was dawning. Alas, we spoke too soon, as a pair of publicists are forced to issue unarftul denials to Page Six involving the whereabouts of Johnny Knoxville's penis:

· What's next, Oscar the Grouch going on Paxil? Are Ernie and Bert going to stop bathing together? Will Snufalapagus stop staring deeply into our eyes and cease delivering subliminal messages telling us it's OK to hit the mailman with a frying pan because he's secretly reading The New Yorker short story before we get to it? We fear all is lost.
· Is it just us, or is Wilmer Valderrama wearing clown shoes? If those shoes are full, that might explain many, many previously troubling things about his dating history. Also: The Glorious Ladies of Fug make us laugh.
· Nick and Jessica's tabloid troubles, now in Mad-Lib form. Yay for marital strife!
· Red Sox fans have something new to complain about: After this weekend, when Fever Pitch is released, they'll never know if someone in a Sox cap is a fan of David Ortiz or Drew Barrymore.