We're in the penultimate day of our superbly-observed and only marginally tasteless Angelina Jolie adoption betting odds, where we decide to seize upon the public mood by trying to get you to make money from guessing where Angelina Jolie adopts from next.

But, look, we're going to level with you here. We've come across something we weren't really anticipating. As always, we've been rattling through these betting odds from the bottom up - and that's great fun when it comes to dashing off jokey profiles about why Angelina Jolie would want to adopt a nice little Welsh kid. But now that the week is nearly over we've realised that now we've kind of committed ourselves to write jokey profiles about why Angelina Jolie would want to adopt a baby from the battlefields of Somalia. Hear that sound? That's us shooting ourselves in the foot.

Still place bets, though. Seriously, Somalia is a steal.

Here are the Angelina Jolie adoption betting odds - for the Philippines and Somalia -with help from Paddy Power...

It's difficult to know whether Punk'd was brilliant TV or terrible TV. One the one hand, Punk'd showcased the comic talents of Ashton Kutcher as he played smug tricks on all his wealthy Hollywood chums, and on the oth- oh, OK, Punk'd was terrible TV.

Was terrible TV. Read that? Punk'd was terrible TV. Punk'd isn't terrible TV any more because the forthcoming season of Punk'd will be the last - so make the most of seeing Ashton Kutcher leap around like an excited sugar-fuelled toddler, whooping and cackling about what a hilarious master of genius comedy he is in front of some non-plussed people who are far more famous than he is while you still can. We don't know how Ashton Kutcher will follow Punk'd, but something tells us it'll involve sleeping with Demi Moore a lot. Damn you Kutcher, why can't you ever let us win?

It's probably fair to assume that nobody on earth has thought about The Da Vinci Code for almost a year now - especially not Tom Hanks, who must shudder at the thought of that godawful mullet he sported in the Da Vinci Code movie.

No, that's unfair. There have probably been a couple of people who have given The Da Vinci Code some thought lately, namely Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh. Baigent and Leigh last year went to court claiming that The Da Vinci Code was all their idea and that Dan Brown, author of The Da Vinci Code, had stolen all his ideas from a book they wrote containing similar claims about Jesus knocking up a hooker once. But that case was ruled in Dan Brown's favour, so Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh appealed. And today that appeal was also dismissed, meaning that the pair now face legal fees of over £3 million - roughly the amount of money that Dan Brown wipes his bum on every morning while checking his hair in the reflection of the 100ft platinum statue he has of himself in his bathroom.

When Heather Mills signed up for Dancing With The Stars, it was obviously a ploy to change the public perception of her from 'Heather Mills The Greedy Fool' to 'Heather Mills The Greedy Fool Who Does A Little Dance From Time To Time' - it's worked.

Even though most people expected Heather Mills to get the chop from Dancing With The Stars almost immediately due to the cruel combo-hit of a) only having one leg and b) being almost universally disliked by everyone - it seems like Heather Mills is powering into a prime position on Dancing With The Stars. And Heather Mills' popularity on Dancing With The Stars was strengthened this week when she managed to pull off a perfect backflip during her routine to Mambo Italiano. It's thought that Heather Mills picked up her amazing dexterity during her marriage to Paul McCartney, where she'd often have to backflip out of a room when he started attacking her with glassware. Well, either that or Heather Mills picked it up when she was a prostitute. If she was a prostitute. Which Heather Mills says she wasn't. So that's that cleared up.

No wait - that's misleading. Let us try to reword that headline: Mariachi Band Full of Orphans Eaten By Jessica Simpson's Minivan. No, that wasn't right either. Hows about: Jessica Simpson Surprised By Mariachi Band, Breaks In Front Of Mexican Orphanage. Nobody Eaten.

We're getting closer. Headlines are tough - especially when they try to convey a message as uplifting and wonderful as Jessica Simpson giving an eight-seater minivan to several hundred abandoned Mexican children who may or may not have to wait months for a chance to ride in the family-friendly vehicle. No offence with the 'family-friendly' bit, orphans.

The action is inspiring though, and moving. It's touching enough, in fact, that hecklerspray has sent one box of frozen fish sticks to three and a half million starving children in Rwanda, and a broken nunchuck straight to the Iraqi Sunni underclass. The fish sticks we sent next day air. The nunchuck we keep trying to throw, but the right wind-gust hasn't caught it yet. Jessica Simpson though - she's not content to wait for no wind to deliver her minivan to the lonely Mexican orphans. She done drove it down her-own self - and we understand she may have even given the kids a fairly decent lease agreement. Now that's charity!

"Sometimes it's hard to be a woman," goes the popular country song, "especially when your husband has just been arrested for doing a series of gruesome sex crimes on a child under the age of 13" - and Wynonna Judd knows this song only too well.

Wynonna Judd, the country and western singer who has shifted over 30 million records and performed hits like Let's Make A Baby King, Don't You Throw That Mojo On Me and Flies On The Butter - which all stand strong in the canon of country songs about making baby kings, throwing mojos and butter with some flies on it, is divorcing her husband Dan Roach. Nothing wrong with that you might think, but Wynonna Judd is getting a divorce from Dan Roach because he keeps getting arrested for aggravated sexual battery against children. That, it's fair to say, is a little different to divorcing someone because their nose squeaks when they inhale. Which is something we'd totally do anyway.

Think of French music and images of Serge Gainsbourg gazing impassively at a group of dancing girls, or coquettish Brigitte Bardot sighing lasciviously though Un Jour Comme Un Autre, spring to mind - but get ready to have your perceptions shattered.

When The Libertines visited Paris in 2003, they left behind a group