Rosemary finally birthed her damn baby, as it were. (And I bet she screamed her clear little head off.) A girl, apparently. Instead of abandoning it on a rock in the woods to take its chances with exposure, Tom licked it clean of chunky placenta and called the squiggling little thing "Suri"—a Hebrew name meaning, "Oy! It's a stinking girl!" Her part of Armageddon now complete, Katie Holmes is shortly expected to vanish from the face of the earth, or otherwise mysteriously expire. In related news: All hail the New Aeon of Satanic Scientological Death Lords! All hail the Terrible Slave Mistress, Suri Cruise-Holmes! Submit! Submit! SUBMIT!

Whatever.

"Hi Adrian, I am an avid reader. Tell me what you know about X-Men director Bryan Singer? Any dish? Thanks."—Brklynbrando

Dear Brklynbrando, Bryan Singer is a deranged Scientologist who sells bodily fluids for smack money. (Sometimes his own.) Beyond that, all is mystery. And I wasn't in the room at the W Hotel that night, anyway: it was that pussy-lipped waiter from that bar downtown, and three other guys. Or something.—Adrian

Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, and, by extension, their copious fauxhawked faux offspring, are officially under the protection of the meanest goddamn bodyguard on earth, who has issued the following really mean statement to all so-called "paparazzi" and, by rather extensive extension, their "friends": "If I find anyone getting a picture of Jolie I will fucking smash someone to pieces—I'm not joking. I'll fucking put someone in the hospital." He concludes, "Tell your friends." If it is indeed true that this rather compulsive reference to unleashing violence upon unnamed "friends" is a subtly veiled threat to kick Jennifer Aniston's ass, as many nonspecific experts and professional preoccupationists assert (me mostly), it is also true that Jennifer will probably go on Oprah and whine about it in that really hopeful-yet-broken way that makes me want to smack the little freak up just a little bit.

I'm just kidding. She's a HUGE freak, and I want to smack her up a LOT.

"Dear Adrian, I'm being stalked by a local radio personality and his wife. Long story short: both crazy! Sure, every once in a while I get a pot of boiled pet rabbit, but that's all done in love. So, inasmuch as crazy husband-and-wife tag-team stalkers go, they're all over me like 'ass on a bicycle seat.' Can I just say, 'leavemethehellalone!' Thanks."—Michael

Dear Michael, Mmm. Delicious placenta!—Adrian

Send! adrian@thestranger.com