Gwen Stefani

It's been said (it's never been said) that celebrity relationships die in threes, which means there's a vacant grave in the middle of Vanessa & Johnny (maybe) and Heidi & Seal's graves. And Star Magazine (via HL) says that a tombstone for Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale's marriage is being made right now. Star's source says that their marriage is in death row right now and headed for the gas chamber, because Gwen is having a hard time dealing with all the secrets that are coming out about Gavin's past. Makes sense. There's only so many times that a bitch can make this face:

over her husband's latest SHOCKING revelation before she just can't take it anymore.

Star says that the first SHOCKING revelation came two years into their marriage when Gavin found out that he had a secret love child named Daisy Lowe. The second SHOCKING revelation came when Marilyn said that he had bumped b-holes with Gavin back in the old days. The third SHOCKING revelation came when Courtney Love told Howard Stern that she screwed on Gavin for 8 months while he was still dating Gwen. The source says that Gwen doesn't know how she can trust Gavin anymore and the two are in therapy:

“Gwen often wonders what other secrets Gavin is hiding. It’s getting harder and harder for her to go through the motions with a man she sometimes feels like she doesn’t even know."

When you've been married to the father of your two children for almost 10 years, you should look past his past and present and do whatever it takes to make it work. You owe it to yourself and your children to keep your marriage alive. But when you find out that Courtney Love once shoved an Adderall up your husband's anus and fished it out with her tongue (that's Court's favorite game), that's a deal breaker. That's more than a deal breaker. That's some "call the priest and annul this mess" kind of shit.

Zahara, the twin messiahs, Shiloh, Kingston and Lunesta (or whatever that one's name is) were all in the same room together in Gwen Stefani's London townhouse today and Maddox was not there to keep those little moppets in check. So that means they shattered the chandeliers with their tonsil-burning screeches and scratched each other's face skin off (that's not make-up) while scrapping in their own toddler fight club in the middle of the living room. When the Maddox is away, the child army will go CRAZY. That is why Gwen Stefani looks like she just pulled her head out of a burlap sack full of rabid raccoons. Breaking up a toddler fight club will do that to a bitch.

Or maybe Gwen's hair looks like that, because she and St. Angie left all the chirruns with the nannies while they went upstairs to do a bunch of shit you definitely can't do on a Southwest flight if you know what I mean (picture me doing this). See, that's how Brangeloonie fanfic and blind items are born.

As Angie Jolie, Jude Law, Gavin Rossdale and Gwen Stefani watched, Jessica Chastain nearly suffered third-degree heat burns in her palms when she held hands with live burning men, Sean Penn and Brad Pitt, at the Tree of Life premiere at Cannes today. On a positive note, if Jessica's curls go limp, she could wrap her locks of hair around Sean Penn's finger and wait until that shit starts to smoke.

I mean, we all know that Sean Penn uses lighter fluid as moisturizer and has the complexion of teriyaki beef jerky, but Brad Pitt needs to run away from the bronzer bath. Fighting the hot with orange grease is an illegal act! I just want to throw him into a stainless steel bin marked "orange chicken" at Panda Express. Dude just needs a turtleneck and he'll be the front-runner for the lead role in a Robert Evans biopic.

The truth is, I don't mean that title. Kingston Rossdale is the fashion icon of the sandbox and so if he wants to boil the assholes of the teddy bear activists at PETSA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Stuffed Animals) by wearing a Maude inspired faux fur vest, let him! And if he wants to bleach his hair into a shade I like to call "Samro Surprise," nobody's going to put him in time out for it!

Looking at that Where the Wild Things are mess on Kingston cues up the "remember when" harp for me and makes me think of these fake fur car seat covers from the swap meet my mom had in her Buick in the 80s. They were like a glamorous hug for car seats. A glamorous hug that smelled like old milk and piña colada oil from the car wash. Whenever I got the chance, I'd pull the covers off of her car seats and wear them off my shoulder thinking I was Alexis Carrington or some shit. Kingston should be grateful that he never had to wear car seat covers!!!!

Here's Kingston, Gwen Stefani, Gavin Rossdale, Zuma Nesta Rock (that name still sounds like a limited-edition flavor from Arizona iced tea) and the nanny walking around Little Tokyo and the science museum in L.A. on Saturday afternoon.

My finger nails look like they've been chewed up by a cross-eyed warthog with an overbite and my greedy overgrown cuticles haven't felt the touch of a clipper in months and I could give a shit. But yet, here's 4-year-old Kingston Rossdale maintaining his hand and feet situation with his mother Gwen Stefani at a salon in West Hollywood, CA the other day.

Dude strolled out of there with a different shade of glitter on every nail and I've got the nails of a zombie with a Vitamin B deficiency. That's it, I'm pulling out the Hello Kitty manicure set from under my bed and handling this dreadful shit today. I cannot be shown up by a 4-year-old!

At the US Open yesterday, Asshole Simpson let the free booze go straight to her head and carry her off to the top of a bar in Missouri where she threw up her hands to Skynrd while fat truckers in flannels threw jukebox tokens at her. Bitch, you're at a tennis match, not at a church funeral with my relatives (my relatives always find a reason to drunk dance). Sit your ass down next to Emo Gilligan over there.

Where was Grandpa Decorum of the US Open to charge at Ashlee and put an end to her foolishness?

Cameron Diaz, who always behaves like a refined lady at all times, was obviously not amused by any of this (or maybe she just let out one of those super slow beer farts):

Here's more of Ashlee working for those camera clicks in front of Pete Wentz, Cammy, A-Rod, Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale.

This looks like MC Hammer's old pants, Jessica Simpson's infamous mom jeans and Baby Huey's giant diaper all mutated into one and attached itself to Gwen Stefani's body. The fuck is this?! Unless you're suffering from a violent case of the wet shits and can blow at any moment, those jeans are not the look.

At least Kingston is showing us that someone in that family knows how to put a WTF ensemble together the right way.

As Gwen Stefani and her family left a restaurant in Malibu over the weekend, a fan stopped her ass to get a picture. Specifically, the fan wanted Gwen to pose with her toddler. Specifically specifically, her bawling toddler. Doesn't that mom know that toddlers only give a fuck about dancing plushies and/or singing lesbian woodland creatures.

I mean, that baby is crying as if Gwen Stefan is a giant Easter rabbit with a scary clown face. Yeah, that's a wonderful picture to post on your Facebook page. "Look, my baby met Gwen Stefani! And damn he hated her ass!" Actually, maybe that baby isn't crying because he's being held by a stranger. Maybe he's crying because his mother is taking a picture of him wearing Burberry cargo jammies. And we all weep.....

Who says you can't be a 3-year-old with hair like Billy Idol (and just a sprinkle of Flock of Seagulls)? Kingston Rossdale has proven them wrong! Yeah, yeah, I know some of you are whining about how babehs shouldn't get covered in peroxide, but beauty is pain. Ask Maddox. And I know some of you are also bitching about the pacifier in his mouth, but it keeps him from crying, because the hair bleach has BURNED HIS FUCKING SCALP!

The band members of No Doubt took a quick break from their jobs as orderlies at a local mental hospital to reunite with Gwen Stefani and perform on Today this morning. Seriously, why do they have to look like they serve tapioca pudding all day while Gwen gets to wear an outfit taken from my childhood closet (I was behind the times).

Actually, scratch that. My pants didn't look that good, but I tried! My mom wouldn't let me bleach my jeans, so I had to make do with some black pants I got on sale at May Company. I twisted them into a ball and let them sit in a bucket of bleach for a few minutes. When I pulled them out and dried them off, they looked like a rust-covered rag found in a junk yard. That didn't bother me, I still wore 'em like they cost something. Oh, the days where you just didn't give a fuck.

Anyway, back to No Doubt. So, in case you haven't heard, they are back (along with Gwen's anime donut hair). They performed a few songs on Today this morning. Click here to watch if you care.

I kind of got the feeling that Gwen was only doing this so the other band members would stop burning her voicemail up with whines about how they have mortgages to pay and shit. That being said, it still made me happy. OLD, but happy.