And she should also maybe get friendly with some high-powered, intensive therapy lotion. Girlfriend’s looking like a dried-up leather suitcase that’s faded beyond belief.

And not only is Janice quickly losing her elasticity from way too much exposure, she’s also losing her damn mind. Did you know that she made a public “threat” to shoot TMZ’s Harvey Levin? Because she did:

“He [Harvey Levin] invaded my home when he said I had been evicted. I hadn’t. There was an eviction notice and this was over an argument I had with my landlord about a plumbing and heating problem. They have now fixed the problem and I have paid them. Harvey openly lied to the public by saying I had been evicted and he distressed my child. He abused my child and invaded the privacy of my home. If it is a metaphor that he invaded my home it is also a metaphor when I say, Harvey Levin is going to die a horrible death and I’m going to shoot him.”

The incident in question was TMZ spreading the rumor that Janice was evicted from her home due to non-payment of rent, to which this was Janice’s original explanation:

“TMZ has been hounding me lately about something personal that’s going on with me. Yes, I was late with my rent and I was really upset about being late with my rent…I’m not being evicted, OK? I was having a little banter about some plumbing issues and the heating…It is now fixed. My rent’s been fixed.”

I dunno, guys. I get that she’s upset and stuff, but maybe people who live in leather houses shouldn’t throw strips of beef jerky at other people. Or something.

I just lied to you—I don’t even think Jess’s maternity line is even out yet, so what must be happening here is that Kourtney raided Jessica’s maternity closet (what? She probably has one) and this was the first thing she could grab before being caught. It was dark. That’s the only explanation I have.

Here you see Kourtney Kardashian toting her first child, Mason, around while being all sorts of pregnant and wearing jumpsuits. One thing about this family is that they love ugly jumpsuits, for real. Granted, the color’s lovely (really lovely—one of my favorite colors) and despite being a virtual Hefty CinchSak, it actually is kind of flattering on the pregnant Kourtney’s bulbous belly, but it’s still ugly as sin. Ugly. As. Sin.

Luckily, we shouldn’t be subjected to these kind of bad decisions for much longer—rumor has it that Kourtney’s going to give birth any day, but she’s going to miss being pregnant. Kourtney recently Tweeted:

I love being pregnant! Such a magical and beautiful feeling. Feeling blessed!

Yes, magical and beautiful. So magical and so beautiful that girlfriend’s completely oblivious to everyone and everything around her—including ugly clothes. Oblivious.

Diddy is really into athlete’s foot and ringworm. [The Superficial]

Nicole Richie is back and forth with Joel Madden. [Lainey Gossip]

Who won ‘American Idol‘? [Starpulse]

Conan O’Brien would just rather forget Jay Leno. [theBERRY]

Casey Anthony is being sued. [IDLYITW]

‘The Great Gatsby‘ trailer is hated by all. [Hollywood Backwash]

PHOTO: Proof that Miley Cyrus spits, doesn’t swallow. [Celebrity Rant]

Is Alec Baldwin eloping? [Cele|bitchy]

Jennifer Love Hewitt, once again looking her best. [Celebslam]

‘Duets‘ spoilers and videos. [CDL]

John Travolta is a secret cross-dresser and Kelly Preston has dumped him. [Cele|bitchy]

Brad Pitt reveals why he’s acting less. [Huff Po]

Kim and Kanye get ice cream. [INFDaily]

Jim Parsons comes out of the closet. But was he ever in? [ICYDK]

Slumjob reality show. [Lainey Gossip]

Tara Reid’s wonky boobs are all the rage in Europe. [The Superficial]

This is like my lucky day. No, f-ck “like.” This is my lucky day. The only thing that could make this day luckier is if I were on that boat in Cannes with Adrien Brody while he’s shirtless and drinking junky white wine. Seriously, no bad can happen today (knock on wood). I was making coffee in the wee hours of the morning today, really before I was even awake, and after I ground the beans, I began to empty them into the container in which I store my ground coffee. Before I put the lid on, I accidentally bumped the container with my elbow, and it would have tumbled off the counter and smashed on the ground had I not miraculously caught it with my hip (?), spilling fresh-ground coffee everywhere and showering my feet with broken-up pieces of ceramic, all of which I’m sure I would have ended up stepping on and in for the next three days no matter how well I cleaned up. What a nightmare, you know? All of that wasted coffee on top of having to pick sharp-ass pieces of glazed, kiln-fired hell from between my toes with my eyebrow tweezers for a week. Tell me the gods weren’t with me this morning, you know?

So anyway, all of this is why today is probably my lucky day. All of that and, of course, the fact that I’ve run across some pretty steamy Adrien Brody photos that depict the actor in various positions (shirt on, shirt off, smiling, not smiling, sitting, standing …), all of them laying under the warm, joyful blanket of “so f-cking hot”-ness.

Also, due to the fact that today is my lucky day and I’m totally calling the shots, we’re not even going to talk about the pug-faced “mystery blonde” that Adrien was seen being all chummy with during his stay in Cannes earlier in the week, because that’s just not the kind of stuff you talk about on lucky days, OK? We’re just going to go ahead and pretend that business never, ever happened and continue our day being completely blissed out that our bellies are filled with good coffee, our bare feet are free of bleeding cuts, and we were able to see Adrien Brody enjoying himself on a mini-break.

And oh, the creepiness that ensued. Just watch the video, guys, OK? Just watch:

I’m sorry. They just might make the scariest couple ever. Also, what was with dimming the lights and playing the suspenseful music? Was it supposed to be like ‘Who Wants to be a Millionaire’? Because no one hits the jackpot in this one. … Well, OK. No. That’s not nice, Sarah. If there were a jackpot to be hit, it would be Ace who would have struck gold, because I don’t think poor Diana knows what she’s getting herself into. These two are like college drama students halfway through their second semester of How to Walk Across a Stage Despondently III. They make me think they’d be something like … well, this, at home:

And did he really name-drop the jeweler on ‘American Idol’ during the marriage proposal to his girlfriend?

Girl, if I were you, I’d f-cking cut and run. CUT AND RUN. “Last forever” my ass.

Nice outfit, Ace.

“I would love to say that it had something to do with my work, but it doesn’t. … I have a boyfriend, and if I’m being completely honest, no one likes to be not toned when you are dating someone. I tone whenever I want, and I chose to now because my boyfriend and I are both really into it. But we don’t work out together. We did that once and I didn’t like huffing and puffing. I didn’t like looking all red and gross, so I don’t do that.”

Kelly Clarkson on her recent twenty-pound weight loss, attributing it to her boyfriend‘s presence in her life. And I don’t think I really like this. I mean, what happened to Miss Independent? Why lose the weight for someone else if you don’t even want to do it for yourself? I think the world has a big problem with people who are overweight, and I don’t even really know why. It just doesn’t even make any sense. Just playing the Devil’s Advocate for a second, here, what if Kelly Clarkson (or another celebrity, whatever) doesn’t care about being a few, or ten, or even forty pounds overweight? What if they’re completely comfortable enough in their skin that the excess weight just doesn’t bother them? I mean, why does the weight of another person seriously bother someone so much that they have to go on and be haters?

If Kelly wants to lose any extra weight she’s carrying, she should do it because she wants to, and not because she’s in a relationship. This guy started dating her when she had those extra pounds she’s talking about, and I’m sure he was just as attracted to her then. If he wasn’t—or isn’t? Well. F-ck him is all I can say. F-CK HIM.