Now don’t get us wrong, this is certainly bitter. The problem is that it’s the divorce of Kelly Rutherford from Gossip Girl, and if she was any less famous then she’d be, well, you.

However, since Kelly Rutherford’s divorce contains pregnancy, accusations of assault, laptop-throwing, violent temper tantrums and a child that appears to be unironically named after a brand of handbag, we’re willing to let the non-fame pass. But only this once, you hear? We’re not a bloody charity, Kelly.

Kelly Rutherford might be the least famous woman on the planet at the moment, but at least she’s got a decent plan to change that. First she got a job acting on Gossip Girl, which is admittedly a show so awful that most people would rather fling themselves under a tram than even be in the same room as a television that’s broadcasting it, but it’s a start.

Then Kelly Rutherford decided to get pregnant, a desperate bid for fame that has previously worked for the likes of Angelina Jolie, Queen Victoria, Barack Obama’s wife and your mum. And now Kelly Rutherford is ready for the final stage – the bitter, petty, public divorce from her estranged husband. Kelly Rutherford, welcome to the big league.

The source of the bitterness is a custody scrap between Kelly Rutherford and husband Daniel Giersch over their two-year-old-son Hermes. The long and the short of it is that Kelly Rutherford wants to take Hermes from California to New York while she films Gossip Girl because she thinks that Giersch will run away with the boy and never return again, and Daniel Giersch thinks that Hermes should stay with him in California because Rutherford is a mad-faced old nutter who can’t stop throwing computers at people.

Incidentally, what is it with mothers in custody cases and laptop-throwing? First Denise Richards did it, and now Kelly Rutherford’s been accused of it too? The message is clear – if you’re planning to leave your wife, invest in a netbook. Or better yet, a notepad. Or better yet, a roll of bubblewrap and a markerpen. Anyway, E! Online has more:

In a brief court hearing this morning, Rutherford’s attorney, Lance Spiegel, said that the move would be in keeping with little Hermes’ bicoastal lifestyle and that interrupting the routine could prove detrimental as the toddler “has never once spent a night away from his mother.” Takesh Hallin, an attorney for the 34-year-old Giersch, meanwhile, maintained that his client was the boy’s primary caretaker.

Don’t get too excited about this divorce, though – although the potential for ugliness is huge, Kelly Rutherford is due to start filming Gossip Girl in New York this weekend, so a verdict will no doubt be reached imminently.

We wouldn’t like to put ideas into the judge’s head, but there does seem to be one glaringly obvious solution to this mess, here – find out which parent decided to call their son Hermes, and then give custody to the other one. Bingo – problem solved.

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You know what that means? That Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony care about Barack Obama enough to perform in Washington on the night of his inauguration? No way! It means that Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are deliberately showing the world a sincere display of their love for one another to fight claims that they’ll get divorced on Valentine’s day.

So, OK, Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony won’t get divorced on Valentine’s day. May bank holiday it is, then. Set your watches, kids.

If there’s one lesson that we choose to live our lives by, it’s this: never, ever underestimate Jennifer Lopez’s ability to make it all about herself. It’s a lesson that’s served us well so far in life, and it’s the sole reason why we didn’t fall backwards off our chair gagging and spluttering and clawing at our face last night.

Because last night Jennifer Lopez outdid herself. Last night, Jennifer Lopez managed to make the inauguration of the first black president in the history of America all about her. And that takes some doing – believe us, we tried.

You see, while the rest of the celebrity world celebrated the inauguration of Barack Obama by either promising to not be a shit mum on his behalf or – in the case of Aretha Franklin – wearing a silly hat and singing a bunch of free-associated words to the tune of God Save The Queen, Jennifer Lopez decided to show the world that she probably wasn’t going to get divorced from her husband Marc Anthony as quickly as everyone thought.

There’s been a lot of speculation that Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are going to get divorced in a little over three weeks – speculation substantiated by Jennifer’s appearance at the Golden Globes last week, where she dressed in little more than a a sparkly hanky and didn’t have her wedding ring on. And that’s why, with the entire world watching, Jennifer Lopez last night decided to set the record straight by singing a loving duet with Marc Anthony at an inauguration ball. People reports:

The crooner completed his inaugural performance by bringing “my wife,” Jennifer Lopez, on to the stage with him, for a duet… Earlier in the evening, Anthony had said, “I wrote this next song about Jennifer. I must have been psychic.” The song was his decade-old “You Sang to Me.” The couple ended their duet with a kiss. “Man, she’s cute,” Anthony said after Lopez exited the stage.

There’s nothing about this story that isn’t completely adorable. The slightly-too-long-for-the-sake-of-photographers kiss, the hamfisted verbal reassurance that Marc Anthony still finds Jennifer Lopez attractive, the way he dedicated You Sang To Me to her, the way he also dedicated the follow-up song I’m Keeping The TV You Dreadful Bitch. All of it, adorable from beginning to end.

And, we have to admit, it worked. We no longer believe that Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are getting divorced. Well, we do, but but we promise to look surprised when it happens. We think that’s what they want, anyway.

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The only person who’ll eat ‘em is that one crazy uncle that lost most of his tongue to a series of mouth cancers. If your experience is anything like ours, that’s one uncle you don’t want to invite over too much. He tries to float the conversation when really there’s only one thing we want to talk about – the portion of jagged lip that sticks out from under his moustache.

Back to marriage though – good ones, even in Hollywood, take work. And that work occasionally involves bopping other men while you’re husband is wasting away deep inside a prison. Say, that sounds just like Amy Winehouse’s marriage – at least according to the man who’s moving to divorce her.

If Amy Winehouse’s future song titles continue to be as ironic as her Rehab tune, then its a safe bet her next album will contain titles like Hey, I think I just smelled myself, I’m thinking about firing the literal squirrels that generally style my hair, and Blake & I are still over the moon.

If her songs take a more realistic turn then we’ll just hear her sing all about how Blake Fielder-Civil is moving forward with a divorce filing. Because he is, apparently. And just as well too – once his marriage is broken and shattered he’d be free to love his six-foot tall white-collar crime cell mate in a much more guilt free manner. Even in jail cheating is seriously frowned upon, you know.

Well that’s what we heard – but the Blake/Amy divorce actually has nothing to do with Blake cuddling the man that bought him for two pieces of bacon and a lit cigarette. How could it? That never happened! No – the divorce Blake is currently craving has much more to do with his wife bumpin’ uglies with a series of surprisingly lice-less men. Or maybe just one man. We haven’t ever counted.

But as the Associated Press puts it:

“A lawyer for Amy Winehouse’s jailed husband said Monday his client will be seeking a divorce on the grounds of the soul diva’s alleged infidelity. Attorney Henri Brandman said he had been instructed by Blake Fielder-Civil “to commence divorce proceedings on the grounds of Amy’s adultery.”"

Now don’t you fret if you feel personally invested in the Fielder-Civil/Winehouse marriage – just because Blake told his lawyer to get things started doesn’t mean the divorce will ever actually be properly pushed forward. After all – Blake is currently in jail.

Just you think about that for a minute.

If you’re still crying about the whole thing, might we suggest you go back to a happier time. Try this last Christmas, for instance, when you came downstairs and found Winehouse’s boobies in your stocking or something.

Yes, yes we seem to remember reading that headline.

Perhaps it was worded differently.

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It’s true. It’s why everyone is predicting Jennifer Lopez’s imminent divorce from Marc Anthony because she turned up to the Golden Globes on Sunday wearing three scraps of gold lame that left her back naked. Obviously the divorce can’t be confirmed until we’ve seen at least one buttock and partial sideboob, but it’s enough for now.

Plus, you know, Jennifer Lopez wasn’t wearing a wedding ring at the Golden Globes either. That probably helps too, in retrospect.

Jennifer Lopez, it’s fair to say, is rubbish at keeping secrets. She tried to keep her pregnancy secret, remember, even though she spent months waddling around like a badly inflamed Weeble. And all that stuff about her still being Jenny from the block? If that’s not a cackhanded cover-up to disguise the fact that she’s a rampantly egotistical millionaire control freak then we’ll be a monkey’s uncle.

The latest of Jennifer Lopez’s woefully-kept secrets, however, is the perilous state of her marriage to rat-faced Latin star Marc Anthony. If reports are true, then Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony will announce their divorce on Valentine’s day, presumably because they’re both actually insane.

But that’s just a rumour. It’s not as if Jennifer Lopez has done anything to fuel the fire, is it? She hasn’t, say, turned up at an internationally-broadcast awards ceremony without her wedding ring while dressed in a frock so barely-there it may as well be a sandwich board reading ‘Are you the next Ben Affleck? Apply within’, has she?

Oh wait, now we come to think of it, that’s the exact thing that Jennifer Lopez did during Sunday’s Golden Globes. Silly us. Still, at least her dress didn’t have gold-on-gold tiger-style accents. That really would be the kiss of death to her marriage. The New York Daily News reports:

Since her 2004 marriage to Marc Anthony, Jennifer Lopez has gone conservative (by her standards), ditching her notoriously flashy clothes for duds with more coverage. But at the Golden Globes, good ol’ Jenny from the block was back with a vengeance. Lopez sauntered down the red carpet in an extremely low-cut, backless Marchesa gown blinged out with gold-on-gold tiger-style accents.

NOOOOOOOO! It’s over! It’s all over! Jennifer Lopez is definitely getting divorced from Marc Anthony! There’s no way around it!

But, come on, let’s all pull ourselves together. Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are getting divorced, but what does that mean? Well it means we’ll have to say goodbye to the Jennifer Lopez/ Marc Anthony joint tours and the hopeless Jennifer Lopez/ Marc Anthony movie biopics of people who nobody cares about. Somehow we think we’ll cope.

But it’s not all bad news. After she divorces Marc Anthony, the old Jennifer Lopez is bound to resurface. You know, the one who dresses like a chav at a wedding, makes endless identical romantic comedies that all seem to co-star Matthew McConaughey and releases album after album of reedy, watered-down R&B music that she assumes the kids will like even though she’s old enough to be the kids’ mother now.

OK, it is all bad news. Sorry for misleading you.

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Alright, Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony made horrible music together. And some genuinely terrible films. But at least they looked happy, and that’s what’s important. Except that they’re probably not happy, since they’ve both been seen without their wedding rings lately, sparking rumours of an impending divorce.

Apparently it’s all because Jennifer Lopez thinks Marc Anthony is too controlling – plus Marc is furious about that time he got sucked halfway up J-Lo’s bumhole when she bent over and created a giant vacuum.

Jennifer Lopez loves marriage. You can tell because all her films are about marriage. The Wedding Planner, Monster-In-Law, harrowing domestic abuse drama Enough – hopelessly romantic pro-marriage gigglefests each and every one.

But in case you’ve decided that you’ll never watch a Jennifer Lopez movie for fear that halfway through you’ll go mad, pull out your eyes and get led from the cinema by paramedics with a delighted look on your face, you’ll still know how much Jennifer Lopez loves getting married. This is because Jennifer Lopez gets married all the bloody time.

In her time, Jennifer Lopez has been married to that man she sued because he wrote a book about her, a sort of Federline-lite named Chris Judd and, most recently, Marc Anthony. And, like many people, we assumed that Jennifer Lopez would stay with Marc Anthony forever.

This is because Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are inseparable – they make films together, they go on tour together, they have babies together – and also because, when they stand side-by-side, Marc Anthony’s weird ratty face diverts people’s attention away from Jennifer Lopez’s gigantic planet-sized buttocks. Really, they are the perfect fit.

Except they might not be. Reports are suggesting that Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony are on the cusp of divorce. According to Newsday:

The hullabaloo began when Us magazine posted a story online noting that Lopez attended a movie premiere without her 8-carat diamond engagement ring, her wedding band – or her husband. Anthony, meanwhile, was reportedly seen in Las Vegas a week earlier, without his wedding band. “He’s very, very controlling of her.” a close Anthony pal told Us. “The skirts aren’t as short. You don’t see so much of that booty anymore.”

For what it’s worth, both Jennifer Lopez and Marc Anthony say that their marriage is fine, which could mean a) their marriage really is fine and they both just had to take their wedding rings off because of residual finger-swell stemming from the time that they were both attacked by hand-obsessed adders in their sleep or b) they’ll be divorced by Easter.

Either way, it’s terribly sad news. Terribly sad because Jennifer Lopez has a nasty habit of making films with people she’s romantically involved with and, if she divorces Marc Anthony and takes up with someone else, that all but guarantees that Jennifer Lopez will make another film. Haven’t we all suffered enough, Jennifer? Haven’t we?

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Yeah, she’s not lovely. Madonna is an awful person. And, as a reminder, Madonna has rushed out a statement suggesting that she wouldn’t dream of giving a cloth-eared bellend like Guy Ritchie that much money.

However, both Madonna and Guy Ritchie have said they’re happy with the divorce settlement – Madonna because she can keep her money and Guy Ritchie because he doesn’t have a wife who looks like a pensioner’s scrotum wrapped around a set of antique dentures any more.

Oh, we thought it was all over, you know. Madonna and Guy Ritchie were divorced, Madonna did some weird pneumatic vaginal thrusts at a man at a concert – thereby making him her new boyfriend according to Madonna Law – and Guy Ritchie probably shagged an actress in Chatham. Madonna gave Guy Ritchie a ridiculously large pile of money as a settlement and, bish bash bosh, everyone could get on with their lives again.

Except no. No, that’s not the case at all. Madonna wants you to ignore all the reports saying that she’d given Guy Ritchie $76 million, a gigantic country pile and a London boozer in her divorce settlement, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.

And, yes, even though news of the divorce settlement seemed to come directly from Madonna’s own henchwoman Liz Rosenberg, it still isn’t true. The new story is that Madonna is big and mean and nasty, and all she gave Guy Ritchie in the divorce was a kick in the bum and a nasty case of the herpes. Or something else entirely. Nobody’s saying for sure. However, Madonna and Guy did release this joint statement:

“We have tried to maintain a dignified silence regarding the details of our divorce for the last few months whilst accepting the obvious media interest. A misleading and inaccurate statement, specifically in relation to the sums of money involved, was wrongly issued to AP this week. The financial details of the settlement will remain private, save to say that both of us are happy with our agreement. Our primary concern, like any co-parents, is the care and well being of our children.”

So fair enough, maybe Guy Ritchie isn’t getting $76 million from Madonna in his divorce settlement after all. It doesn’t matter – what’s important is that he still gets to keep the love of his children. Or at least a generic expression of their love in the form of a three-line acknowledgment of his existence that Madonna will grudgingly pay an orderly to type out once every year.

The bad news, of course, is that a $76 million divorce settlement would have easily been enough to ensure that Guy Ritchie never had to direct another film again. And now he almost certainly will. Thanks a lot Madonna, you massive bitch.

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It was about the children. And it was about having the freedom to do whatever he wanted. And it was about going to bed each night with a woman who didn’t feel like a half-chewed steak. But Guy Ritchie definitely didn’t divorce Madonna for the money.

Except now Guy Ritchie’s divorce settlement from Madonna has come through at close to $100 million, including a dirty great mansion and pub. It’s so much money that Guy Ritchie never has to work again. Guy, read that last sentence again. Read it!

Now that Madonna and Guy Ritchie are properly divorced, we can take off our rose-tinted glasses to inspect its carcass objectively and – you know what? – in hindsight, it’s obvious that, apart from his son Rocco, not one single decent thing was ever produced from that marriage.

It’s true. Madonna’s influence led Guy Ritchie to produce the most hamfisted movies of his career. Guy Ritchie’s influence led Madonna to start talking in the most bizarre stab at a British accent we’ve ever heard. Madonna released possibly her two worst albums ever in American Life and Hard Candy. An African kid got taken away from his father in the name of adoption.

And – worst of all – to try and cover up the cracks in their marriage, Madonna even wrote a song about having sex with Guy Ritchie. As if our lives weren’t horrible enough without the mental image of the withered corpse from the end of Indiana Jones And The Last Crusade grinding away on Mr Potato Head’s lap to contend with.

Actually, we’re lying. There was one good thing to emerge from Guy Ritchie’s marriage to Madonna. And that’s the gigantic pile of money that Madonna’s just handed Guy Ritchie as a final divorce settlement. People reports:

Madonna has reached a divorce settlement with Guy Ritchie, according to the singer’s rep. The pop star will pay her ex between $76 million and $92 million, her spokeswoman Liz Rosenberg tells the Associated Press. Rosenberg says the figure includes the value of their country home Ashcombe, in western England, as well as the couple’s London pub, the Punchbowl.

That is a phenomenal amount of money. Guy Ritchie must be counting his lucky stars – eight years of standing slightly out of frame on red carpets with a handbag swinging from his arm while his elderly wife jiggled her genitals around in a special orthopedic leotard for the paparazzi and he gets almost $100 million? That’s incredible – even if most of that sum is in the form of property and will therefore only be worth about 50p by the middle of next week.

But Madonna is a canny businesswoman, remember that – this huge divorce settlement won’t come without any stipulations. Madonna and Guy Ritchie have yet to reach a formal agreement regarding child custody, for example, so don’t be surprised if Guy’s time with his son Rocco and adopted son David is greatly reduced now. In fact, for $100 million, don’t be surprised if Guy Ritchie’s only contact with the children is a single Christmas card each year addressed from Anonymous Father Figure B.

Still, what does Guy Ritchie care? He’s rich! Rich enough to buy his own children! Rich enough to buy 100 children and run through meadows tossing them all in the air like confetti.

Well, it’s what we’d do. Don’t judge us.

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Oh, we’re just kidding. Of course we know who Kate Walsh is. She’s, you know, that woman who recently announced that she’s getting divorced from her husband. And she… um… what’s that, Wikipedia? Kate Walsh is the star of Grey’s Anatomy spin-off Private Practice and the movie Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer, Part 2, a movie that actually exists? Oh.

Anyway, Kate Walsh has asked everyone to respect her privacy in the wake of her divorce. Somehow, we can’t see that being a problem.

Remember when that screaming Australian woman from Lost who nobody would ever recognise by name got married to a man and then stopped being married to him soon after? Well, this is much, much worse – Kate Walsh is getting divorced.

That’s right, Kate Walsh. Not only would we not recognise Kate Walsh by name, but we wouldn’t recognise Kate Walsh by name, by sight, by voice or by smell. OK, admittedly we would recognise Kate Walsh by smell, but that’s only because we hide under her bed and sniff her hair in her sleep. There’s nothing creepy about it.

Anyway, Kate Walsh – a woman so stunningly anonymous that she could drive a truck that she’d renamed The Kate Walsh Express down The Kate Walsh Memorial Highway right into our face while flicking her headlights on and off to spell ‘I AM KATE WALSH FROM PRIVATE PRACTICE’ in Morse code and singing a special version of Boom Boom Boom Boom! by The Vengaboys that’s been rewritten so that every word is either ‘Kate’ or ‘Walsh’ through a megaphone and we still wouldn’t know who she was – is getting divorced. That was our original point.

Apparently Kate Walsh’s husband – a man called Alex Young who ironically is 4,000 times more famous than Kate Walsh despite never starring in a single movie or medical spin-off TV show – has had enough of being married to Kate Walsh after just 15 months of marriage and has filed for a divorce. People reports:

According to court papers obtained by PEOPLE, Young, 37, petitioned for a divorce, citing irreconcilable differences in his Nov. 22 filing. “The couple remain on friendly terms and sincerely hope the media will respect their privacy during this difficult time,” the pair said in a statement Thursday.

Oh, irreconcilable differences. That old chestnut.

Of course, the term ‘irreconcilable differences’ is often used as a cover-all excuse during a divorce, sometimes hiding the fact that one partner had an affair, other times hiding the fact that the marriage has turned abusive, and occasionally hiding the fact that the husband would sometimes completely ignore his wife in a crowd, seemingly forgetting who she was or what she looked like, often spending upwards of 20 minutes craning his neck and shouting “KATE! KATE WALSH! KATE WALSH FROM PRIVATE PRACTICE!” even though his wife is literally staring him right in the face at the same time.

Maybe we’ll never know which of these they meant by ‘irreconcilable differences’.

Anyway, we’d like to send our sincerest commiserations to Alex Young and… oh, you know, whatever his wife’s name is. It’s slipped our mind. Bugger.

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But that didn’t stop People this week. In its new issue, Kevin Federline has decided to open up for the first time about what ended his marriage to Britney Spears. Was it because Britney went barmy? Was it because Kevin Federline is a bloodsucking redneck? Ooh, we’re excited!

Anyway, it seems like Britney Spears and Kevin Federline have patched up their differences – Britney has even made sure she released her big comeback album to coincide with Kevin’s weird, parasitic little interview. Heartwarming!

It’s fair to say that Kevin Federline got the bum deal in his divorce from Britney Spears. Yes, Britney might have been the one who had a full-on psychiatric meltdown and literally ended up being slung into a padded cell against her wishes, but that meant that Kevin Federline had to look after the children they had. And those little buggers can swear!

What’s more, by being the primary carer for Sean Preston and Jayden James, Kevin Federline also found that the public’s perception of him was changing. Kevin was no longer the idle layabout with such epic delusions about his own talent that at one point he was literally writing the film of his own life, but something close to responsible parent who wants the best for his children.

And this made Kevin Federline angry. Responsible? Caring? That’s not who K-Fed is at all! So, to fight back and show the world that he’s still the same opportunistic, untrustworthy-looking cornrowed streak of yokel tosspiss that he’s always been, Kevin Federline has taken the biggest step available to him, short of re-releasing Popozao.

That’s right – Kevin Federline has decided to openly discuss the break-up of his marriage to Britney Spears for the first time on the same day that Britney’s new album is released in America. Oh, and he’s also done a photoshoot for the cover of the magazine carrying the interview co-starring the children that Britney isn’t allowed to see much of in case she has a psychiatric relapse and injures one of them. What a lovely man.

But, credit where credit’s due, in the interview Kevin Federline hasn’t simply taken the easy option and blamed Britney Spears for the break-up of their marriage. No, Kevin Federline has instead looked the situation dead in the eye and bravely and honestly pinned it all on his stupid kids. Kevin told People:

It’s hard enough to be in a marriage, and then have a kid, then kids, it changes everything. For me, I’d become more concerned with my children. Not that I ignored Britney, but my kids are always most important. I didn’t give her an ultimatum, but I was trying to work stuff out with her, and she didn’t even talk to me or anything and went behind my back and filed [for divorce]. [I was] completely blindsided.

OK, so he was blaming Britney Spears a bit as well as his kids. Sorry.

But, hey, at least we know what happened now. And maybe, now that he’s said his piece, Kevin Federline will slink away into the background again and it’ll be the last we hear from him. Apart from when Britney Spears decides to release the deluxe version of Circus in the middle of next year, because then he’ll obviously need to do another interview about how much of an unfit mother he thinks Britney is. He is only human, after all.

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May To December? How offensive! Everyone knows that Ivana Trump only ever falls in love for the long term. And by that we mean April to December romances. April to December romances that must end exactly on the stroke of the first of December.

Which is to say that Ivana Trump has split up with her half-as-young-as-she-is husband after just seven months of marriage. You may react to this news however you like. We suggest shrugging.

Some women have a type of man that they go for, but not Ivana Trump. So long as you’re a man, you’re inappropriately younger than her, you have a silly name, you look a bit sleazy and your idea of restrained sophistication involves buying a golden walk-in refrigerator with an ornate cherub for a handle that plays harp concertos every time you open it, Ivana Trump is more or less guaranteed to fall completely in love with you.

Because that’s Ivana Trump’s problem – she falls in love too easily. With arseholes, mainly. Ivana fell in love with George Syrovatka for eight years, then Donald Trump for 15 years, then Riccardo Mazzucchelli for two years and, this year, she fell in love with Rossano Rubicondi. And then out of love with Rossano Rubicondi again. Quite quickly.

Seven months after Ivana Trump married Rubicondi, their marriage has come stumbling to an end. It was such a beautiful ceremony, too – held on Ivana’s ex-husband Donald’s estate, in front of Donald, with Donald’s sister acting as the minister and with a reception in the exact room that Donald had his last wedding reception in.

Bizarrely, though, it wasn’t the nagging sense that everything he ever did would always be compared to a belligerent old man with a haircut like a baboon’s buttocks being pulled apart by a wind-tunnel that drove Rossano Rubicondi away from Ivana Trump – it was a reality TV show. Fox News reports:

The 59-year-old says she actually separated from 35-year-old Rossano Rubicon three months ago, but kept it hush hush so as to not mess up his chances on the Italian version of Survivor. “Rossano wants to live in Miami and work in Milan,” Trump said. “But, I am a New Yorker and my family, friends and businesses are here. As the beautiful song says, `Que sera sera!’”

Good for Ivana Trump. With age and experience she’s learnt to roll with the punches and take any bad news – even the news of her own divorce – by remembering the lyrics of beautiful songs. Incidentally, we’d imagine that the songs I Am A Cartoonishly Garish Old Lady and Don’t Forget To Treat Your Face As If It Was A Slab Of Furniture Leather have come in handy several times throughout Ivana’s life.

But still, maybe Ivana Trump does have a type after all – stars of reality TV shows. First Donald Trump from The Apprentice and then Rossano Rubicon from Survivor? If we were Bubble from Big Brother 2, we’d be crapping it right now.

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That’s not particularly surprising – years ago Madonna had her brain removed to make space for more bicep and her tear ducts were cemented up because she didn’t weep holy Kabbalah water – so we’ve come to expect steely, robotic reactions to everything from her. However, Madonna has now finally decided to accept her divorce and mention it in public for the very first time.

Speaking to the Associated Press, Madonna has said how sad she is about the divorce, and how grateful she is that her heavy workload can distract her from it. Wow, sadness and gratitude? We’ve seen Swept Away and Body Of Evidence – that’s literally about six more human emotions than we thought Madonna was capable of.

When Madonna married Guy Ritchie almost eight years ago, there was a lot of speculation about why the world’s most famous woman had decided to move to England to live with a man who looks like a potato and can’t decide whether he’s Ray Winstone or Terry Thomas. And all the time it was staring us right in the face.

Madonna married an Englishman because she’s essentially English herself. She rides horses, she speaks in something that she believes is an English accent, she wears vastly inappropriate clothing for her age (see: Loose Women) and – most importantly of all – instead of expressing an emotion, Madonna would rather roll up her feelings into a little black ball and push them down into the pit of her stomach where one day they’ll surge out of control and prompt an act of staggering violence on someone who doesn’t deserve it. It’s the British way.

You can see this fear of emotion in Madonna’s professional output – she’s so lifeless in all of her films that often we have to be reminded that we’re not watching a film about a veiny ventriloquist’s dummy, and the most profoundly emotional thing she could come up with on her most recent album is “tick tock tick tock tick tock” – but at least her recent divorce from Guy Richie has yanked some feeling out of her.

Last week, after their divorce was finalised, you’ll remember that Guy Ritchie reacted by smiling and looking pleased while Madonna gave everyone the finger like a surly teenager would. But, of course, in reality Madonna is as raw and vulnerable as you’d expect her to be in this situation – all the posturing and aggressive defiance was just to paper over the cracks in Madonna’s broken heart. The San Francisco Chronicle reports:

In an interview with the Associated Press, she says her intense schedule “provides a distraction that keeps me going,” adding, “I’m sad about my personal life, but I feel very blessed and very lucky that I have the opportunity to do what I do in my professional life. It would be horrible if I was just thinking about getting a divorce and had nothing to do.”

Look, we never said they were very big cracks, OK?

But now that Madonna has finally decided to allow herself to properly reflect on the divorce in a healthy and emotionally naked way, maybe she open herself to the remaining stages of being a 50-year-old recent divorcee, too.

For instance, first Madonna is bound to feel some resentment, then loneliness, then slowly she’ll come to terms with her loss. And then finally she’ll get shitfaced in a pikey disco in a small provincial town and end up wanking a frightened 18-year-old off in a toilet. That, too, is the British way.

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Just a few hours ago, Madonna and Guy Ritchie formally finalised their divorce once and for all, putting an end to almost eight years of happy marriage, unhappy marriage, rumoured affairs and possibly the most offensively inaccurate adopted British accent in the history of time itself.

While Madonna apparently reacted to news of her divorce by sticking her middle fingers up at her audience during a concert, Guy Ritchie is said to have merely sighed “Thank God.” But that’s not important now – the important thing is that Madonna won’t be involved in any of Guy Ritchie’s films any more, which should elevate them to ‘merely unwatchable’ from their previous status as ‘flesh-clawing suicidal thought-inducers’.

The world you’re in now is completely different to the one you woke up to this morning. It’s a world where, if you’re a boy, you run the risk of being accosted by a little old lady in an ill-fitting gynotard who’ll brainwash you into having sex with her. And, if you’re a girl, you run the risk of being accosted by a little old lady in an ill-fitting gynotard who’ll force her tongue down your throat, but only if enough people are watching.

That’s correct – Madonna’s on the loose again.

Yesterday we warned you that it was coming, but today it finally happened – at 10am, Madonna and Guy Ritchie finalised their divorce at the High Court in a quickie hearing that neither star attended. The hearing marked the end of divorce proceedings between Madonna and Guy Ritchie that were quite nasty, but not as nasty as people would have liked.

True, Madonna may have forced Gwyneth Paltrow to take sides, and someone may have mentioned something about gristle, but that’s about as intense as it got. Nobody accused anybody of stabbing them with a wineglass like in Paul McCartney’s divorce, there weren’t any weird mentions of dead prostitutes like in Charlie Sheen’s divorce – there was just a brief settlement, a quickie divorce, a profound sense of emotional detachment and that was that.

But how did Madonna and Guy Ritchie take the news that their marriage was officially over? Metro has more:

The pop star welcomed single life with open arms at last night’s Sticky & Sweet Tour concert in Philadelphia with a middle finger salute to her failed marriage… Meanwhile, a relaxed and happy looking Guy ushered sons Rocco and David into a waiting car outside La Vina restaurant in Liverpool. He told a newspaper: ‘Thank God! It dragged on much too long. It was never about money – never about her bloody art collection.’

Maybe we shouldn’t read too much into Madonna’s reaction – in the past she’s used her middle finger for everything from a hamfisted attempt at sexual provocation in her Sex book to an expression of her mild disgruntlement at third world poverty during Live 8. And since in those cases it neither put an end to poverty or made anyone feel even the briefest glimmer of sexual arousal, it’s probably best that we ignore it.

It’s Guy Ritchie who’s done best from the divorce – alongside his dignified response, all the big-money settlement offers that he allegedly turned down in favour of increased access to his children have almost made him seem like quite a nice man.

Weird. We wonder how else the Madonna/ Guy Ritchie divorce will destroy our preconceptions about the couple? Will Madonna start being sexy again? Will Guy Ritchie stop talking in his preposterous cockney accent? Will Madonna make a film that doesn’t make us want to hurl ourselves down a concrete staircase? We’re scared.

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Which is to say that the divorce between Madonna and Guy Ritchie has been nothing but solid non-stop hilarity from start to finish. So laugh it up while you can, because it looks as though the divorce between Madonna and Guy Ritchie is going to be finalised at the High Court tomorrow.

The news comes after the revelation that Madonna and Guy Ritchie have quietly worked out a settlement. That’s likely to be kept a secret, but we assume there’ll be a fair split in terms of custody and ownership of property, and Madonna will get to keep the leotards. No! Guy Ritchie will keep the leotards! No! Madonna! No! Guy! No! Oh, we don’t know which outcome would make us feel queasier.

We don’t know about you, but it feels like the end of an era. A slightly improbable era where the world’s biggest female celebrity fell in love with the man behind the Channel Five hidden camera gameshow Swag. An era that led to one of the worst fake British accents that has ever been spoken. An era that, when we tried to imagine the act of physical love being performed by the two principle figureheads, made us dry-heave into a plastic bin like a cat with a hairball for 45 minutes at a time. But the end of an era nonetheless.

Madonna and Guy Ritchie – didn’t you almost have it all? Obviously by ‘it all’ we mean ‘a big house, a brown baby that wasn’t yours and the ability to brainwash athletes into sleeping with you‘, but that’s all by the by now. Because Madonna and Guy Ritchie are finalising their divorce tomorrow.

It seems like forever ago that Guy Ritchie and Madonna announced their divorce plans, but maybe that’s because divorce rumours had plagued them since almost the day they got married. And since the announcement we’ve been deluged with a tidalwave of new stories about divorce lawyers and friends taking sides and gristle, all of which might have given some of you the impression that the Madonna/ Guy Ritchie divorce was going to stretch off into the horizon like the interminable Paul McCartney divorce.

But that’s not going to happen. Quietly, in private and with a level of dignity that’s left us feeling slightly incredulous, Madonna and Guy Ritchie have hammered out a divorce settlement and this time tomorrow it’ll all be over. BBC News reports:

Pop star Madonna and her film director husband Guy Ritchie are to be divorced at the High Court in London on Friday, according to court lists A notice of the couple’s decree nisi will be posted at the Registry of the Family Division. The couple are registered for the divorce hearing under the names Ciccione M and Ritchie GS. It will be heard before the High Court’s Family Division at 1000 GMT.

While details of the divorce settlement are being kept private, it’s thought that Madonna will keep the bulk of her fortune and the couple’s two children Rocco and David will split time equally between her and Guy Ritchie. The divorce itself will only take a couple on minutes, and neither party are expected to attend.

It’s all a very cold and clinical ending to the marriage, with no extremes of emotion being shown by anyone. Maybe that’s because both Madonna and Guy Ritchie are both rumoured to have moved on romantically since the split, but still, for a marriage between such huge personalities to squeak to a close like this is one of the saddest things imaginable.

Actually, no, we take that back. One of the saddest things would be if Madonna and Guy Ritchie both decided to attend the hearing tomorrow, realised that they were still in love and ended up humping each other on the steps to the High Court in front of all the news cameras. That would just be unbearably sad.

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What’s that? Guy Ritchie might be having it off with an actress he hired to star in his new Sherlock Holmes movie? Well that didn’t take long. According to reports, Guy Ritchie and actress Kelly Reilly have been shacked up in the same hotel since October 18 – just three days after Madonna and Guy announced their divorce.

Not much is known about Kelly Reilly at the moment, but since she’s a) a redhead, b) British, c) an actress and d) young, it’s fair to assume that she’s everything Madonna will never be. In fact, reports claim that Kelly Reilly is almost 20 years younger than Madonna. If that’s the case – great work, Guy Ritchie! Kelly Reilly looks quite good for a 68-year-old!

We sincerely hoping you’re keeping up with all the movements in the Madonna/ Guy Ritchie divorce so far, because the pair of them appear to be whipping through the stages of divorce at an incredible rate. Even though the divorce was only announced just over a week ago, we’ve already seen the divorce lawyers shifted into place, the indiscriminate hurling of gristle-based insults and the mighty Madonna endorsement of Gwyneth Paltrow.

That would probably be enough as it is, but hold your horses. There’s one divorce stage missing here – the stage where Madonna and Guy Ritchie both quickly shack up with brand new rebound lovers and parade around in front of the other with them in a childish and embarrassing attempt to invoke feelings of envy. But give them time – before they can get to that stage, Madonna and Guy Ritchie will have to work through their complex feelings of loss and betrayal and…

What? They’re doing it already? Well jigger us silly.

Madonna, of course, has been seen out and about with Alex Rodriguez – the brainwashed athlete who calls Madonna his ‘fucking soulmate’ and skipped out of hospital to see Madonna about 10 seconds after his then-wife had given birth to his baby. But now it seems as if Guy Ritchie has got in on the act too.

According to reports, Guy Ritchie has allegedly moved on from his divorce by repeatedly sticking it to Kelly Reilly, a pretty young actress who just so happens to be starring in Guy Ritchie’s Sherlock Holmes movie. US Weekly reports:

A source tells Us Ritchie has already entered a relationship with British actress Kelly Reilly, who is starring in his upcoming drama Sherlock Holmes. On Oct. 18 – three days after he announced he and Madonna were divorcing – he sent his driver back to his $12 million home in London’s Marylebone district “very last-minute” to pack an overnight bag for a stay at a nearby Chatham hotel — where Reilly is residing.

OK, for the time being we’re going to take this report with a pinch of salt because there’s one thing that strikes us as fishy about it. Chatham.

Chatham is not the place for a romantic evening of physical lovemaking. A quick squalid WKD-fuelled two-pump bunk-up in the carpark between Toys R Us and PC World, perhaps, but not lovemaking. In fact, we’d even go as far as to say that nobody has ever ever ever ever ever considered Chatham to be anything other than a stinking chavpot that doubles as a production line for potential clueless Jeremy Kyle Show guests. Not even Guy Ritchie, in all of his potato-headed oafishness, would dare to consumate a relationship in somewhere as profoundly bleak and misery-soaked and flea-ridden as Chatham. Seriously, we’ve been there.

But anyway, if it is true then we can’t see this relationship between Guy Ritchie and Kelly Reilly working out. After seven and a half years together, Guy Ritchie will probably find it hard adjusting from the sinewy, muscular sex he enjoyed with Madonna, and we’re not sure that Kelly Reilly would be prepared to sellotape clumps of gristle onto her body to make up the difference just yet.

And we’re sure it was a hard decision to make – not least because given the choice of siding with an obnoxiously laddy potato-faced oaf like Guy Ritchie or his screechy, uncomfortably religious elderly man of an estranged wife, most normal people would just take the easy route out and throw themselves under a train.

But that’s not a problem that Gwyneth Paltrow has had to face – she’s stepped up to the plate and declared that she’s firmly on Madonna’s side when it comes to the divorce. This, we suspect, is partly because of the great friendship shared by Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow, and partly because she’s scared of Madonna chokeslamming her through a brick wall. She could, you know. Look at those arms.

We sincerely hope that none of you are getting bored with this whole Madonna/ Guy Ritchie divorce thing yet. Because, trust us, this is only the beginning. The divorce is going to go on until… wait, we were going to say that the divorce was going to go on until both Guy Ritchie and Madonna are very old indeed, but Madonna’s already beaten us to the punch there. Let’s just say that it’s going to go on for a very long time.

And it’s going to be hard for both of them, especially now that Guy Ritchie has taken to comparing Madonna to scraggy dog food. But it’ll be slightly easier for Madonna, because Madonna has got Gwyneth Paltrow by her side.

Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow have both got so much in common. They’re both Americans living in London, for example, plus they’re both married to British celebrities. Plus they both love yoga and have vaguely nutty religious beliefs. Plus one’s a singer who wrongly thinks she can act and the other is an actor who thinks she can sing. Plus neither of them can pull off a convincing British accent.

Madonna and Gwyneth Paltrow, it’s safe to say, are like two peas in a special futuristic pod that makes one of the peas look several decades older than the other.

And because of all these commonalities, Gwyneth Paltrow has vowed to support Madonna in her divorce through thick and thin – which, incidentally, is what we used to call Guy Ritchie and Madonna. BBC News reports:

Hollywood actress Gwyneth Paltrow has revealed she is “supporting” her friend Madonna through her divorce from husband Guy Ritchie. At the UK premiere of her film, Two Lovers, she said: “She’s a very good friend. I’m supporting her in all the ways that I can. I’m just there.”

We can’t help feeling that Gwyneth Paltrow will come to regret making that statement; if not immediately, then on the fourth or fifth time that Madonna has ordered her to daub ‘TINY-COCKED TWAT’ in giant letters across the front of Guy Ritchie’s house at 3am or poo in his shoes when he’s not looking or something.

Still, Guy Ritchie shouldn’t get too downhearted that a megastar like Gwyneth Paltrow has decided to side with Madonna in their divorce – he’s got plenty of famous friends too, and they’re equally as loyal to him. That’s why by tomorrow morning we expect to hear a full and frank endorsement of Guy Ritchie’s character by Dexter Fletcher from Press Gang. Beat that, Madonna.