It’s Tuesday, it’s sunny outside and I’m feeling productive.  So in the spirit of efficiency, I’m just going to get started on these newest stories about trouble in Brangelinadise.  Today’s tale?  The couple haven’t been photographed together in twenty-one days and Brad’s a drunk.

Daily Mail, the people who truly can fashion a feature story out of the tiniest shred of information, tells the story of Angelina’s dismay about Brad’s drinking and slovenly ways.  The summary:  Angelina came home from a long day of filming her movie, Salt.  She was upset to discover Brad passed out in bed.  He drank beer and watched movies all day, while the kids were on a separate floor of the house, giving the nannies hell.  Jolie reportedly went all sorts of nuts shaking Brad, trying to wake him up.

Listen, I seriously wonder if Daily Mail writers don’t just sit around munching on scones, make up a bunch of shit, and call it a staff meeting.  It’s so obvious that this never happened.  I mean, Angelina having enough strength, energy or body weight to shake someone?  Madness, I say!

There are few shows that I watch with as much loyalty as Bravo’s Real Housewives of New York City.  I haven’t seen such a concentrated group of bitches in one place since the cafeteria in high school.  Or since the last mom’s group I tried to tolerate being a member of.

If you’ve been watching this season, you know that Luann, excuse me-Countess Luann de Lesseps, has been diligent in plugging her new book, Class With The Countess.  This American Indian who grew up in Connecticut is a countess by injection marriage-and she talks about her title on every.  Single.  Episode.  She has even written a book about manners-apparently New England natives who get fucked by counts have more class.

On one episode of RHNYC she had a luncheon for her teen daughter and friends in which she lectured them all on everything from water glasses to proper lap placement of a napkin.  She admonished one fifteen-year-old for resting an arm on the table.  What is the lesson here?  Abuse prescription drugs if you must, but do not ever place your ulna on an eating surface!

Which begs the question:  How ill-mannered would it be for Luann’s husband to leave her for an Ethiopian woman?  Rude yet true.  The Countess and the hubby who never answers her repeated “Where the hell are you?” calls, have split.  New York Post reports it like this:

A close pal said, “They decided to separate. She got wind he was seeing somebody and he didn’t answer her when she called. He finally sent her an e-mail saying he was with an Ethiopian woman in Geneva and he was serious with her.”

The revelation came as a shock to the countess, who celebrated her 16th anniversary with her husband on March 16.

“Luann was blindsided. She was just devastated,” the close friend told Page Six. “They have basically lived apart for many years — he lives in Europe and comes and goes as he pleases, but she never thought this would happen.

“It has been very rough for her and the children [Victoria and Noel], but she’s taking the high road and will remain friends with him,” the source added. “She has no intention of making it bitter or becoming angry. She’s just trying to come to terms with [the separation and impending divorce]. She feels this is the ultimate test for her to handle this with dignity and grace.”

Which got me thinking-what happens when you marry in to countess-dom and then break up?  Are you de-counted?  Un-counted?  I have concluded that this makes Luann dis-counted.  And I imagine that life on the dis-count rack is far more offensive to Luann than using a salad fork to dine on tiramisu.

Reunited for a movie, that is.  Though I still maintain that they are hitting the sheets again, as well.  And I believe that Justin really loves Drew; he stuck with her through all those orange-faced Cover Girl ads.

The He’s Just Not That Into You co-stars are teaming up yet again for another collaboration.  Their new movie, Going The Distance, is about a couple engaged in a long-distance relationship and the trials they face.

HJNTIY made $145M so Barrymore and Long have basically accomplished the impossible-they were a couple who starred in and turned out a successful movie.  Can they do it again?  If they do, they’ll be miracle workers by my definition because this plot sounds like a total snooze.

Alyson Hannigan finally had that baby!

The girl is named Satyana Denisof and was born March 24 in Los Angeles, which also happens to be Hannigan’s birthday. “They’re very excited, and mom and baby are doing great,” says the rep.

Now that is an awesome name. It’s like if you combined “Satan” and “Tatyana.” Brilliant. A+ on the naming, kids.

My birthday is March 24, too, and it’s endlessly being brought to my attention that Alyson and I share a birthday. So now I also share a birthday with Little Baby Satan. My evil heart is delighted by this.

Congrats, kids!

MTV has just ordered four more seasons of The Real World. It’s already been on the air for seventeen years and filmed 22 cycles. They’ve also given the green light to four new seasons of Real World/Road Rules Challenge, extending that clusterfuck’s life to 21 cycles.

OMG.

Who are you people who are still watching this??? Watching The Real World now is kind of like eating McDonalds. I mean, I loved it as a kid, but today it just makes me nauseous.

This is horrible news!

Andy Hallett, the hottie who played demon Lorne on fan-favorite series Angel, has died of heart failure at the age of 33.

E! Online eports that the actor passed away at Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles on Sunday night with his father Dave at his side.

He had struggled with heart failure for several years and been hospitalized several times before this incident.

What an awful and terrifying struggle. It reminds me to count my blessings and keep things in perspective. You will be greatly missed, Andy.

Twitter is HERE, people, like it or not, and now we KNOW it’s here, because it has its very first celebrity lawsuit! And it is — OF COURSE — against Courtney Love.

In Los Angeles Superior Court, clothes designer Dawn Simorangkir, also known as Boudoir Queen, last Thursday filed suit against Love for defamation, invasion of privacy and infliction of emotional distress for “an extensive rant” on Twitter about how she was billed for custom clothing.

It’s hard to be extensive when one is limited to just 140 characters. But if anybody can do it, it’s Love, who allegedly wrote grammatically challenged comments like “oi vey don’t f— with my wardrobe or you will end up in a circle of corched eaeth hunted til your dead.”

“Whether caused by a drug induced psychosis, a warped understanding of reality, or the belief that her money and fame allow her to disregard the law, Love has embarked (o)n what is nothing short of an obsessive and delusional crusade to terrorize and destroy Simorangkir, Simorangkir’s reputation and her livelihood,” says the complaint.

Love’s spokesman declined to comment on the lawsuit.

First off, the rant WAS extensive. It occurred on March 17, and do you know how long it takes to get back to March 17 on Courtney’s Twitter account? For. Ever. (I just did it, I would know.) Courtney’s not someone who embraces Twitter as the truest embodiment of short-form writing. Rather than confine her thoughts to 140 characters, she just tweets again and again and again until it can genuinely be considered an extensive rant.

Because I love you guys, I got screen caps of all the Tweets in her rant against Dawn. They’re in the thumbnails. There are FOUR PAGES of it. Four pages of basic nonsense. There is something so very, very wrong with Courtney Love, and yet something so very right. You can’t force this kind of crazy.

And as for this Dawn person? I don’t know if she’s out for blood or if she’s just out for publicity. Either way, mission accomplished.