[via PerezHilton]

Seriously, The Sun is on fire. (Har har har). Now if only they could find a copy-editor who knows how to spell “theater.”

• Vince Vaughn and Jennifer Aniston broke up over the phone.
• Madonna selects an African child to adopt with the same obsessive attention to detail and God complex that make her live performances such extraordinary spectacles.

• Mischa Barton and Nicole Richie are dunzo. Barton says Richie’s “fickle,” by which she of course means “starving.”

• Having properly atoned for a year of sins on Yom Kippur, Mel Gibson’s drinking again.
• Ashlee Simpson denies hooking up with Nick Carter while he was with Paris Hilton, using her own special brand of eloquence: “No! That is so random. When I heard that, I was dying laughing.”

Am I the only writer in the blogosphere more interested in the “Simpsons Strike Back at Dad” headline? Images of Jessica and Ashlee in super-cute guerilla gear, storming the Joe Simpson compound with M-16s and grenades, demanding the prompt return of their innocence, reputations, original noses, and chances of ever having a healthy relationship with a man?

But, alas, the blogosphere is abuzz with this news; it’s likely that the only person on the planet more apathetic than I toward the looming Vaughniston alliance is Brad Pitt.

Hey, Brad, if you’re reading this, you should totally come over tonight. We don’t have to do this alone. We can wade through our Vaughniston ennui hand-in-hand. I have whipped cream and a cat you can call Maddox. Just say you’ll think about it.

Update: Jen’s rep says it’s not true. You know, this is really the bloggers’ fault. If we would only buzz about Us Weekly every day enthusiastically no matter what forever and ever amen, they wouldn’t have to do this sort of thing to us. Jesus. Now wash up the blood, sweetie, and start dinner. That’s a good girl.

Brad: I still have the whipped cream and the cat. Let’s not allow this shocking turn of events to spoil our dreams. Call me.