Today has been a super downer: the universe has once again grown frowzy, it seems.

So let us self-medicate with Celebrity Gossip’s shallowest-working salve, the “Blind Item.” (I’m totally a doctor! Like, a smut pharmacist! A philanthropist, even! You’re welcome.)

Below are four Blind Items, prescribed to soothe.

BuzzFoto wonders:

These sibling stars that started out as child actors are so jealous to compete with one another for roles that their relationship is completely ruined. One is getting more parts than the other and that has been the cause of the rift. The one that isn’t as successful is developing a drug problem. Very sad.

Oh, gosh, I hope this isn’t the Fanning sisters. Ooh! Ooh! What about Jesse and Hallie Eisenberg? No, that can’t be right.

I just got the giggles picturing Tia and Tamera Mowry, though: “God, Tia! Why do you always have to be right about everything!!” *shoots up* (OK, I wrote that last night; it’s less funny today. Frowzy.)

Actually, if this Item were about Jeremy and Jason London, it wouldn’t even be blind. Jason’s always like, “Jeremy Who?” while Jeremy’s always, like, in Tijuana. Sad, indeed.

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News broke earlier today that Amy Winehouse had been found dead in her London apartment. The troubled, husky-voiced singer/songwriter was 27.

For someone so well known for her bombastic flourishes and drunken public missteps, Winehouse was reclusive—she notoriously gave an entire interview via her apartment’s intercom in 2008.

Winehouse had just turned 20 when her debut album, Frank, won rave reviews in 2003. In 2006, Winehouse released her second—and, to date, final—album, Back to Black, which earned five Grammys. But that album’s best known track, “Rehab,” would eventually become an obvious punchline in the following years.

After a lengthy sabbatical in St. Lucia in 2009, and another in Rio in January of this year, Winehouse, visibly healthier, always seemed primed for her comeback.

But she couldn’t maintain her sobriety. Just a month ago, Winehouse canceled her European tour after being booed off a Serbian stage. What made her disastrous performance in Belgrade so troubling was, Winehouse had only recently completed a voluntary stint in rehab in preparation for her summer performances, according to her spokesperson.

This March, Winehouse looked and sounded healthy, and she claimed she had been off drugs for an entire year. “I thought: ‘Girl, you’ve got to sort yourself out or you’ll be dead soon,’” she said. “I’ve finally escaped from hell.”

British music critic Neil McCormick: “It’s deeply sad. It’s the most completely tragic waste of talent that I can remember.”

Amy Winehouse’s too-short life, chronicled in photographs, after the cut below.

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This video was taped at yesterday’s Amazing Spider-Man Comic-Con panel:

In the video, an excited fan rushes to the microphone, starts gushing about how he’s always wanted to “be at Comic-Con, in Hall H, as Spider-Man.” Then, as he thanks the encouraging crowd, he removes his cowl to reveal that he is none other than superhero Andrew Garfield. (The fanny pack added a lot to his Comic-Con disguise, I think.)

Garfield is all nerves as he reads a prepared speech:

Stan Lee says that the reason why Spidey is so popular is because all of us can relate to him, and I agree. I needed Spidey in my life when I was a kid, and he gave me hope. In every comic I read, he was living out my and every skinny boy’s fantasy of being stronger, of being free of the body I was born into, and that swinging sensation of flight. And upon receiving his power, unlike most who have become corrupted, he used it for good. And I think that we all wish we had the courage to stick up for ourselves more, to stick up for a loved one more, or even a stranger you see being mistreated, and Peter Parker has inspired me to feel stronger. He made me, Andrew, braver.

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From NPR:

Amy Winehouse, the beehived soul-jazz diva whose self-destructive habits overshadowed a distinctive musical talent, was found dead Saturday in her London home, police said. She was 27.

Police confirmed that a 27-year-old female was pronounced dead at the home in Camden Square northern London; the cause of death was not immediately known. London Ambulance Services said Winehouse had died before the two ambulance crews it sent arrived at the scene.

Oh man. Oh damn. This has really got to me. I love Amy Winehouse. Seriously loved this woman and her unbelievable talents, and while this whole thing isn’t a bit surprising – I know folks who have had her in their death pool for the last six years – it’s still an awful blow to the music community at large.

RIP Amy, and may you finally be free of the myriad demons that clearly haunted you.

First Jennifer Aniston and Justin Theroux were “pre-engaged,” which, OK, you two serial monogamists, throw yourselves into the folly of love. Be silly; have fun with it; shine on, you crazy diamonds. Fine.

Then, on Wednesday, the couple visited London for the premiere of Horrible Bosses, and they went out for drinks with Louis Theroux. Which, OK, certainly, at the three-month mark, it is normal to start introducing your new pookie to your famous relatives. This is a totally normal relationship trajectory.

Now, People—which is a cheesy outlet, sure, but seldom publishes a lie—is reporting that the new couple is house-hunting. NO. NOT OK. Ugh, I cannot even.

Listen, I know how it is. You go, “Oh, we’re practically living together anyway, so this’ll be easier on everyone.” You go, “Oh, my lease is up in two months, so we’ll just go look for an apartment together.” Or you’re checking your bank account, thinking, “Well, there was that economic recession, so I’m sure I can convince my mother of the wise frugality of this new living arrangement.” In the words of your mother, WRONG. Moving in too soon is the fastest way to kill the tender bud of a new relationship. You might as well say, “Well, I’m tired of being wined and dined; I’d like to cut straight to the needless bickering.”

This is the opposite of a Whirlwind Romance. *puts on spectacles* Ahem. Moving-too-fast can actually be a defensive tactic: instead of letting a relationship organically unfold, you demand to know whether this relationship is going to work out, like, yesterday. No time for romantic frivolity! We’re all getting older! The clock is ticking! Go! Go! And that’s a lot of undue stress, because no one can live up to those expectations. (I know! I should be Aniston’s marriage counselor!)

And although I have never claimed to be “for” the Justifer coupling, they are so adamant (and their getting-together, so messy) that I just hope they don’t screw anything up.

Holding the dubious distinction of Least Necessary Movie Ever: this year’s remake of the 1985 all-American horror-comedy Fright Night. (Ugh, the very idea! A remake of Gremlins could not offend me more.)

Nontheless, I’m extending cautious hopes for the remake in spite of myself, because A) Lars and the Real Girl‘s Craig Gillespie directs, B) in a feat of inspired casting, Superbad‘s Christopher Mintz-Plasse plays Evil Ed, and C) I’m a big, big Doctor Who fan.

Fright Night‘s real draw is supposed to be Colin Farrell, who plays the movie’s Sexy Vampire. He caused quite a stir during yesterday’s panel discussion at Comic-Con, in which no subject was off-limits.

Farrell, on rediscovering the joy of acting and recapturing his youthful optimism:

I came to success really quickly in relation to most other actors. The idea of how fast the chaos around me took grip, it’s insane. And I, myself personally, I lost sight of why I went to my first acting class when I was 17 in Dublin … I lost sight of that through this good fortune I was experiencing in Hollywood. So in the last six years I reconnected with the Colin who was 17. …It’s a lot of fun to do what we do. It’s such a fortunate place to find yourself.

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