For once in this never-ending series of Strictly Come Dancing, there's some actual tension going on - beyond the usual 'is Bruce Forsyth going to fall over and shatter his hip?' tension or 'will Tess Daly be able to perform her rudimentary dance routine properly for once?' tension.

No - tomorrow's Strictly Come Dancing is the first time that there hasn't been an absolute donkey hoofing around the stage like an electrocuted cadaver, which means that any of the remaining dancers could be getting the shove in just over a day's time? But who? Some of the Strictly Come Dancing contestants have been consistently good throughout the series, others have shown a marked improvement, and some are just easy to perv over in weeny sparkly dresses. But who's going to win Strictly Come Dancing? Who's going to win? Strictly Come Dancing? Who? Win? Strictly? Win. Win?

Here are the Strictly Come Dancing betting odds for Louisa Lytton and Mark Ramprakash...

Tom Cruise has done all he can to prove to the world how much he loves Katie Holmes lately, like impregnating her with his seed and having a fairytale Italian wedding, and now it's time for Tom Cruise's final dastardly step - cocktails!

Not cocktails as in the Tom Cruise movie Cocktail - Tom Cruise won't prove his love by shouting for an hour and then sleeping with Mallory from Young Guns - but in a post-wedding cocktail party at the LA home of his production partner Paula Wagner this weekend, so that all of Tom Cruise's friends who couldn't make it to the wedding can personally inspect Katie Holmes for any signs of drugging, hypnosis or blunt force trauma head injuries that may give some indication as to why she married Tom Cruise in the first place.

They say that being a mother is the hardest job in the world, so imagine how hard it is to not just be a single mother of two but a single mother of two who waves her bare vagina around in public all the time like she's waiting for it to dry.

Because that's more or less what Britney Spears is these days. And, what do you know, some people are suggesting that hanging out in LA with Paris Hilton and letting your baby-ravaged flapjack dangle out the bottom of your skirt when people are taking photos of you might not be the best way to raise two little boys. Speculation about the quality of Britney Spears' mothering skills has reached fever pitch, and it seems to have gained the attention of the Los Angeles Department Of Children And Family Services who - according to reports - are all set to pay a visit to Britney Spears' house to check on the welfare of her children and possibly implore Britney to cover up her mimsy for once in her effing life.

Lots of different odds and sods are tampered with over time to see if they can be improved, and some fall flat on their arse. For example, moving the now-defunct Top Of The Pops around to different time slots to try and save it from the axe.

Needless to say, flogging an already-shite programme around different slots in the TV schedule didn’t help, and letting ITV have Match Of The Day for a season was painful enough, too. Not even the sound of Bono singing us in could save it, and the music industry was clearly in the wrong for letting Paris Hilton having a go at trying to be a singer. She really should have just stuck to her day job. Which is, er...

But some concoctions have proved a great hit, not only with the smiley folks in the hecklerspray dungeon, but with most normal people, too. Cadburys Creme Egg bars are lovely - when they're not contaminated with salmonella - and so was the idea of bringing back Bullseye, even if it was on Challenge TV. Music is often compounded to one genre. Be it indie, dance, reggae, folk or whatever, you tend to get lumped into one category. However, our Trawl this week has led us to a band that belongs in both genres of electro and punk. Warren Suicide is their name. 

Christmas has come early for Michael Richards. While Mel Gibson had to wait four long months for someone to say something dumb and take the heat off him, Michael Richards has suffered less than three weeks of it, and it's all thanks to Andy Dick.

Andy Dick - who many of you will know as the unfunniest man on the planet - is in hot water after an impromptu set at a comedy gig ended up with Andy Dick bellowing "you're all a bunch of niggers!" at the audience, presumably in a cheap attempt to shock them. And it worked - the shocked audience all duly ran off to inform the news organisations of their choice that Andy Dick is an unfunny racist. And now, thanks to Andy Dick, we get to go through the tiring 'strained semi-apology followed by more sincere apology' palaver all over again. It'll be interesting to see if Jesse Jackson tries to organise a boycott of Andy Dick's recently-cancelled sitcom Less Than Perfect DVDs soon, although not as interesting as finding out that nobody bought them anyway.

Olivia Newton-John has decided to do this by suing Universal Music Group Ltd for $1 million that she says she's owed in unpaid royalties for the Grease soundtrack. And Universal is playing hard-ball with Olivia Newton-John in response, saying that it expects the case to be thrown out quickly. Now, we're no legal experts, but we expect that Olivia Newton-John and Universal Music will probably turn up in court and go together like ramma lamma lamma ka dingity ding da dong shoo bop shoo wadda wadda yippity boom da boom chang chang changity chang shoo bop dip da dip da dip do wop da dooby do boogy boogy boogy boogy shooby sho wap sho wap. Or fucking something.

Shh... do you hear that noise? It sounds like... a whole lot of smug masturbation. Hey, that must mean that movie awards season is here already! And that's especially good if you're Clint Eastwood, as he's the first man-muck recipient of the year.

The Oscars may not take place until February, but that hasn't stopped awards season from being well and truly declared open, so let's hear all about it before the other 936 movie awards that could - maybe - give a slight indication as to who might stand a chance of winning an Oscar (possibly) strip us all of our will to live. Last night the National Board Of Review gave out its awards, and prizes went to Clint Eastwood for his Iwo Jima movie, Martin Scorsese for The Departed and a whole bunch of other people that some historians thought totally rocked, that you'll read about after the jump.

We've all played Where's Wally in the past, and then taken a week off work afterwards because of all the blood that's pouring out of our eyes from all the straining. But Where's Wally isn't really true to life in many ways, because everything's in rubbish old 2D.