Charlotte Church – whom many of you will recognise as a woman who used to be famous – has every reason to celebrate today.

She’s just had a baby. According to reports, Charlotte Church and her boyfriend Gavin Henson have just welcomed their second child, a baby boy, into the world.

Although the baby hasn’t been named yet, reports are suggesting that he’s just like Charlotte Church. Apparently he screams a lot, often seems bewildered, constantly grasps at anything that comes close to him and has a sense of humour that seems to primarily revolve around pooing uncontrollably into his own underwear.

Hey everyone, remember Charlotte Church? Of course you do – she was the little girl with the voice of an angel and the scary red eyes of a habitual alcoholic of no fixed address. You remember – one minute she was performing alongside Pavarotti and the next minute she was stumbling around Cardiff at 3am with her skirt tucked into her knickers trying to get off with the front window of Snappy Snaps.

That was all a long time ago, though. Charlotte Church is no longer the innocent young operatic toddler or the permanently-drunk teenage rebel who once released an album that we’re still convinced was about wanking. Now, you see, Charlotte Church is a mother.

The last interesting thing to happen to Charlotte Church was when she gave birth to a girl in 2007. After that Charlotte Church kind of disappeared from view. Rumour had it that Charlotte Church had decided to live a hermetic life completely off-grid, with both her heat and light requirements being provided by the ridiculous orange skin of her rugby-playing boyfriend Gavin Henson.

But now Charlotte Church is back! She’s back to tell us that, um, she’s had another baby. BBC News reports:

The baby arrived just after midnight and weighed 7lb 5oz. Both mother, 22, and son are said to be “doing just fine”, according to her website. A message was posted on the singer’s website, just before 1430 GMT, saying: “Charlotte has literally just this minute phoned us to let us know that she gave birth to a little boy today. He was born just after midnight at her and Gavin’s home with Gavin in attendance at the birth.”

It’s an exciting time, for sure. We can’t wait to hear more details about Charlotte Church’s new baby boy. Is he like his father in the way that he looks a bit radioactive and it takes him twelve full hours to do his hair properly, or is he like his mother in that he’s been signed to front a series of unfunny television commercials for Virgin Travel? It’s so exciting!

Although not as exciting as the news that Charlotte Church wants six babies in total. Given that she’s averaging about 16 months between babies at the moment, that sort of means that Charlotte Church won’t have enough time to be properly newsworthy until the middle of 2013, hopefully by which time we’ll have been incapacitated by a coronary or something else that means we won’t have to write about her any more.

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Of all the terrible ways to start a new year, losing your 16-year-old son on New Year’s Day has to rank among the worst.

So there can’t be a person on the planet who’d want to trade places with John Travolta at the moment. As you’ve probably already heard, John Travolta’s 16-year-old son Jett died at some point between January 1 and 2 from a seizure brought on by his Kawasaki syndrome.

And now John Travolta has released a statement about Jett’s death, thanking the public for its support and describing how ‘heartbroken’ he and his wife are. Horrible news.

The investigation into the death of John Travolta’s son Jett in the Bahamas on Friday, while profoundly sad, seems like it might drag on for a while. Jett Travolta, who suffered from the rare heart condition Kawasaki syndrome, died after apparently having a seizure in a bathroom and hitting his head.

Now, however, it has emerged that John Travolta and his wife Kelly Preston are to be questioned by police after suggestions that Jett’s body was left unnoticed for up to 10 hours, alongside rumours that the Travoltas didn’t give Jett medication for his condition because it went against the tenants of Scientology. John Travolta, for what it’s worth, denies these claims.

In the meantime, though, John Travolta has broken his silence over Jett’s death with a statement released on his website:

We would like to extend our deepest and most heartfelt thanks to everyone who has sent their love and condolences. Jett was the most wonderful son that two parents could ever ask for, and lit up the lives of everyone he encountered. We are heartbroken that our time with him was so brief. We will cherish the time we had with him for the rest of our lives.

The Bahamas, a teenager’s death, a drawn-out investigation, suggestions of the misuse of medication – the whole thing has horrible shades of the death of Anna Nicole Smith’s son in 2006. Hopefully, though, Jett Travolta’s death won’t become the same gruesome pantomime that Daniel’s did.

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Since she’s been pregnant for roughly seven years now, Ashlee Simpson has had plenty of time to think up a really stupid baby name.

But not even the biggest advocates of Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz‘s thundering lunk-headedness could have been prepared for the sheer life-ruining awfulness of the name that they’ve chosen for the son that Ashlee gave birth to yesterday. Ladies and gentlemen, may we introduce you to little Bronx Mowgli Wentz.

But don’t think that Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz chose the name Bronx Mowgli Wentz on a whim – three weeks ago Pete Wentz told Ryan Seacrest that they wanted to meet the baby before they settled on a name. So presumably Bronx Mowgli looks like a cartoon gargoyle and he’ll be raised by animals. We don’t think we need to verbalise what we’re all thinking, do you?

We’re not exactly pregnancy experts, but it’s a fair assumption that Ashlee Simpson’s new baby boy is going to take over the world and as a precaution we should all start digging bunkers in our gardens or nearest municipal open space as quickly as possible.

It only makes sense. By our calculations, Ashlee Simpson was pregnant with Pete Wentz’s baby for the best part of a decade, and that means that the baby probably became so prenatally developed that we expect it looked like naked Arnold Schwarzenegger from the start of Terminator by the time it was born yesterday. As our dear old granny used to say, never trust a baby that’s bigger than you, especially when it’s half-emo.

That’s right – after months of outright lies about how pregnant she was, Ashlee Simpson last night gave birth to her first baby. That’s not particularly a big surprise – Ashlee Simpson has been so baby-logged for the last few weeks that those around her have been quite openly discussing the possibility of inducing labour, and even Pete Wentz tried to scare the baby out by singing at it – but now the baby is here. E! Online reports:

Ashlee Simpson-Wentz and her rocker hubby Pete Wentz welcomed son Bronx Mowgli Wentz, their first child together, Thursday at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. The baby boy weighed in at 7 pounds, 11 ounces and measured 20 1/2 inches. “Ashlee, Pete and baby Bronx are all healthy and happy, and thank everyone for their well wishes,” a rep for the couple told People.

Ah yes, Pete Wentz and Ashlee Simpson have chosen to call the baby Bronx Mowgli. How could we forget? Maybe in days to come we’ll discover exactly why Ashlee and Pete chose to name their first son Bronx Mowgli, but for now we’d imagine it’s down to one of three reasons:

1 - Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz both decided to give the baby a name each, with Ashlee picking the name of a symbolically wide-eyed and innocent literary figure and Pete Wentz opting for the name of the band behind classic pop hits such as Shitty Future and Rape Zombie.

2 - Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz decided that the ‘Location + Disney Character’ baby-naming system would be a formula that could easily be reused for any other children they have, which is why Bronx Mowgli’s siblings will be called Chicago Pumbaa and Titty Ho Tramp.

3 - Both Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz are actually mental and they hate their baby.

Of course, we’re only joking. It’s obvious why Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz decided to give their firstborn child a name as stupid as Bronx Mowgli. It’s because the child will be so obsessed with trying to work out what in the hell his parents were thinking when they named him that he’ll never get round to counting back nine months from his birthday and working out that his mother and father only got married because daddy knocked mummy up by accident and felt obligated to marry her out of a gnawing sense of guilt.

Clever Ashlee Simpson and Pete Wentz. They’re always one step ahead.

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There’s good luck, bad luck, awful luck and then there’s Britney Spears luck – and Britney Spears has probably just edged a new level.

On Sunday Britney Spears got to take her children out of California for the very first time since she lost custody of them. And that’s the exact moment that her two-year-old son Jayden James decided to get hospitalised for an allergic reaction to something he ate. Apparently kids don’t take too well to eating shards of broken Lego bricks wedged between slices of frozen animal piss. Who knew?

Oh, we’re joking – Britney Spears’ son wasn’t hospitalised for anything Britney did, and he’s now been released. In fact, we get the feeling that he only went to hospital because all the men in white coats reminded him of when he used to live with mummy.

There’s just something about Britney Spears, isn’t there? It doesn’t matter what she does, she just can’t quite seem to achieve total across the board happiness. The happiness of Britney Spears’ marriage was ruined when she realised that her husband was a cornrowed redneck waste of skin. The happiness that should have accompanied the freedom of her divorce was shattered when it properly sent her mental.

And now this. Britney Spears might be on the brink of a full-scale professional comeback with her Womanizer song doing so well and her next single Kill The Lights looking set to do the same because it’s basically the exact same song, but that hasn’t stopped something genuinely upsetting from happening in her private life.

Last weekend marked the very first time that Britney Spears was allowed to leave California with her children since she lost custody of them to Kevin Federline earlier this year. It was Britney Spears’ big chance to prove that – after the dangerous driving and the skull fractures and all the rest of the frenzied crap that resulted in Britney Spears losing them in the first place – she could actually be trusted around her children.

And then one of them wound up in hospital. Whoops.

It was reported yesterday that Jayden James, the youngest of Britney’s kids, had a seizure and was rushed to hospital. Luckily, though, that diagnosis has now been downgraded to ‘allergic reaction’, and Jayden James has now been discharged. Newsday reports:

Jayden James, 2, was admitted to the Southwest Mississippi Regional Medical Center on Sunday after having “a reaction to something he ingested,” a representative for Spears’ family said in a statement, according to The Associated Press.  The hospital is near Spears’ home in Kentwood, La., where she was reportedly staying with family.

Although ‘something he ingested’ sounds worryingly vague, we’re positive that whatever it was had nothing to do with Britney Spears’ state of mind or skills as a parent. We just hope that this ends here – after all, if Jayden James realises that he can get some time away from Kevin Federline and Britney Spears by going to hospital, God knows what he’ll do to get back there next week.

Until now there’s been one reason and one reason alone to look forward to Pirates Of The Caribbean 4 – no Orlando Bloom.

But now there’s another reason that’s equally uplifting – not only will Orlando Bloom not foul up Pirates Of The Caribbean 4, but nor will Zac Efron from High School Musical. Contrary to rumours suggesting that Zac Efron had signed on to play Johnny Depp‘s son in the fourth Pirates Of The Caribbean movie, it’s been revealed that no such deal has been made.

Yet. Despite the denial, Zac Efron isn’t hiding his enthusiasm for a role in Pirates Of The Caribbean 4. But if he does eventually get the job, producers will have to find a clever way to explain his presence in the movie. We suggest a flashback to Captain Jack Sparrow having it off with a charisma-free injection-moulded shop dummy and somehow getting it pregnant. Nobody could argue with logic like that.

For a movie that hasn’t even started to be made yet, we seem to know an awful lot about Pirates Of The Caribbean 4 so far. For instance, Johnny Depp has been paid all the money in the universe to reprise his role as Captain Jack Sparrow in Pirates Of The Caribbean 4, there’s a fighting chance that Tim Burton will be the director and, if the pattern of the last three movies holds, the whole thing will be 15 hours long and so confusing that blood will start squirting from one of your ears about half an hour in.

In addition to all that, one persistent rumour is that Pirates Of The Caribbean 4 will feature more of Jack Sparrow’s family. Thanks to Keith Richards‘ cameo in the last movie, we know that Sparrow’s father was part grizzly driftwood and part sheep testicle, and there’s a strong chance that Russell Brand will end up playing his brother in the new film.

But there’s also a chance that Jack Sparrow’s son will make an appearance in Pirates Of The Caribbean 4, and that he’ll be played by High School Musical‘s Zac Efron. You know the chap – he looks like a pre-pubescent ventriloquist’s dummy that’s been programmed by a berserk professor to never think, say or do anything even marginally controversial. He probably has a smoothed-off plastic nub where his genitals should be, too.

In a way, Zac Efron would be the perfect choice to play Johnny Depp’s son in Pirates Of The Caribbean 4 – let’s not forget that the movies are based on a theme park ride full of unrealistic herky-jerky animatronic humanoids, so he’d fit in flawlessly – but sadly it’s not to be, as MTV reports:

Speaking to MTV News, Efron was adamant that the talk of his voyaging through the Caribbean was nothing more than a rumor. “No one has talked to me about it,” the “High School Musical 3” star insisted. “I didn’t even know [about it]… Cross your fingers for me guys!”

Now that he’s expressed an interest, though, maybe Zac Efron will get offered a role in Pirates Of The Caribbean 4 after all. It’d certainly help pitch the movie at the tween generation, that’s for sure.

In fact, why stop there? Why not get other tween stars to join the cast of Pirates Of The Caribbean 4, too? Miley Cyrus would make a great love interest for Zac Efron, and we’ve already devised a scene in which, after The Black Pearl runs out of ammunition, Jamie Lynn Spears is recruited to take out ships by firing a steady procession of illegitimate babies out of her ladyparts at the enemy fleets.

50 Cent was brought up on the streets, and therefore he’s not a man you want to mess with – he’s gangsta, he knows how to hold a grudge.

Cross 50 Cent and you’ll know. You’re entire family will know it. Everyone you’ve ever cared for will know it. Unless, you know, it’s a dispute that can be peacefully mediated in a courtroom within the space of about five minutes, because if that’s the case 50 Cent will probably just do that instead.

And that’s just what 50 Cent did yesterday, to settle a custody agreement over visitation rights to his 12-year-old son Marquise. In the agreement 50 Cent will spend more time with Marquise, and that’s important. Not because a boy of Marquise’s age needs a strong father figure, though – but because now 50 Cent has even more time to relentlessly apologise for deciding to name him something as crap as Marquise.

If you’ve seen Get Rich Or Die Tryin’, you’ll know how much 50 Cent has been through. But you haven’t seen Get Rich Or Die Tryin’ because you can read, and we suspect that the movie was for the medically illiterate only.

So, to fill you all in, 50 Cent has been involved with guns and drug dealing, his mother was murdered when he was eight, and 50 Cent himself got shot once. Keep that to yourself, though, because Fiddy likes to keep that a secret.

But recently 50 Cent had found himself saddled with the hardest problem of his entire life – custody visitation rights. You might think that we’re joking, but we’re really not – look at what it did to Alec Baldwin. The custody saga of 50 Cent’s son Marquise has already stripped 50 Cent’s gangsta credibility to its bare bones – he even had to go to court to admit that he doesn’t take drugs at one point – and now tragedy has struck.

That’s right – a judge has ruled that 50 Cent is allowed to see his son more often than he currently does. That means before long we’re likely to see 50 Cent taking his son to the park or feeding ducks or – worst of all – showing traces of actual kindness towards another human being. MTV reports:

The judge in the case granted 50 one weekend visit a month (he had requested two a month), as well as half of Marquise’s winter and spring breaks from school. TMZ reported that 50 was also granted one month in the summer. “50 is pleased this has been settled and looks forward to spending some quality time with his son,” the rapper’s attorney, Brett Kimmel, told People.

Although giving up his credibility as a hip-hop hardman – look, even his lawyers are too scared to call him anything but ’50′ – is going to be hard, at least little Marquise will be able to spend some quality time with his father from now on, and that time will be too precious to put a price on.

Right up until puberty hits Marquise full force, that is, because living with a hormonal boy who’s just realised that girls won’t talk to him because his dimwit parents decided to name him Marquise will easily be the most formidable opponent that 50 Cent has ever faced. If we were Fiddy we’d get our bedroom doors reinforced – that boy’s a timebomb.

You might not know this, but Sharon Stone is famed for her sense of smell – if a mouse does a poo 50 miles away, Sharon Stone will still puke up and faint because if it.

And this ability has ultimately been Sharon Stone’s undoing. Sharon Stone lost custody of her child recently, with one of the justifications being that Sharon’s eight-year-old son had feet that smelt like putrid bum death, and she wanted to cure this with regular Botox injections into his feet.

However, Sharon Stone has denied wanting to Botox her son’s feet, calling it a ‘complete fabrication’. But on the other hand, she did give him a browlift to stop his sweaty armpits and a brand new set of 36DD plastic boobies to try and offset his chronic farting, so who knows.

Say what you like about Sharon Stone – that she’s capable of astounding cultural insensitivity or that when she dies the picture in the obituary will be of her genitals – but you can never say that she doesn’t care about her son.

Sharon Stone has always wanted what’s best for eight-year-old-Roan. Just look at his feet for example – although he’s only eight, sometimes it looks like Roan has the feet of a nine or sometimes even nine-and-a-half-year-old. And, oh, don’t get us even started on the smell. Roan’s feet constantly smell like – and this isn’t an exaggeration – a thousand dead animals in a swimming pool full of vomit next to a sewerage treatment plant in Africa at midday.

But, as Sharon Stone knows only too well, the best cure for both of these complaints is Botox. She knows this, we’re guessing, because Botox is what keeps people from realising that a) she’s actually 94 years old and b) her face smells uncomfortably of toilet. Ergo, it makes perfect sense that Sharon Stone wanted to Botox her son’s feet to stop them smelling.

This ingenious plan backfired somewhat, however, when the judge overseeing the custody battle over Roan between Stone and ex-husband Phil Bronstein caught wind of it – along with the way that Sharon Stone also invented a nonexistent spinal complaint for Roan as well – and whipped custody away from Sharon Stone as quick as can be.

You have to feel a little bit sorry for Sharon Stone at this point – who knew that regularly injecting a child’s feet with a form of botulism toxin to stop a naturally-occurring condition equated with bad parenting? – but Sharon Stone has now denied that she ever wanted to Botox anyone’s feet anyway, sort of. E! Online reports:

“This week it was reported in connection with Sharon Stone’s custody dispute that she wanted to have her 8-year-old son undergo Botox treatment at this time for his feet,”  attorney Marty Singer said. “Sharon Stone never made this statement. It is a complete fabrication.”

And that’s true. Sharon Stone didn’t make this statement at all – the judge overseeing Sharon Stone’s custody hearing made this statement, presumably on that basis that there was some form of evidence for it.

But anyway, at least this is all over now, and everyone can go back to normal. Except for little Roan, who’ll now have to grow up with the world thinking that his feet smell like gutrot. But he’ll get the last laugh – one day he’ll seek his revenge by penning a Mommie Dearest-style movie about his bewildering childhood.

True, nobody will watch it because the entire cast will have had their faces Botoxed into complete immobility for verisimilitude’s sake, but that’s something to deal with when it happens.

hecklerspray doesn’t have any kids, but if we did we’d demand DNA evidence and a court order to prove it. They ain’t ours, skank.

Of course, once those things were obtained we’d dote on them, treating them each individually with great love and deep respect at least until age six, when their value in the middle east really peaks.

Speaking of which – thanks for the price guide, Amir, but do you have one in the King’s English?

If you think that’s bad – you should see Sharon Stone‘s parenting. She wants to pump her child so full of Botox that his seams start to burst. That’s why a judge just banished her to only seeing him two weekends a month or something.

It is a scientific fact that if the Chinese had properly Botoxed the ground in their country, that earthquake that mercilessly slaughtered them a while back would have been much more fluid in its rumbling. Also it would have been far more enjoyable. Fun even.

Likewise, if Stone had soaked all of her fur-based clothing overnight in tubs filled with Botox, then said attire would likely glow with a radiance it hadn’t known since it was living in its glory. Its glory was probably on a multi-cage mink farm, but you get what we mean.

Perhaps Stone doesn’t know it yet – but Botox could be the answer to all of her worries. Actually, maybe she does know it. We actually have no idea what kind of things are getting tossed around her grey matter up there – except for maybe a rudimentary Basic Instinct 3 outline. And possibly wondering what it’d be like to lick an in-store pumpkin she hadn’t yet paid for. Also maybe she wonders why her school-age son’s feet already seem to have so many frown lines and brow furrows. We really don’t know.

But a certain judge sure seems to have a grasp on her mental goings-on. It’s the judge that recently took Stone’s parental rights (or most of them) and poured them all over her ex-husband. His highness the judge didn’t do it without reason though – he did it because Stone wanted to fill her son’s feet with Botox. E! Online says:

“Specifically, [The Judge] took issue with Stone’s mothering prowess and apparent overreaction to [her son's] complaints. “Mother alleged Roan had a spinal condition,” the judge noted. “There was no evidence to support this allegation.” And this doozy: “Mother suggested that Roan should have Botox injections in his feet to resolve a problem he had with foot odor.”

We know Stone, we know. It’s gotta be hard living in California with a child that can’t wear anything open-toed without you having to lug around one of those oxygen tank things to keep you breathing OK. They make them with wheels you know. You wouldn’t have to carry it.

But obviously something’s gotta be done – and might we suggest that the ‘something’ you try be Saran Wrap. It won’t stop your troubles, but it’ll sure contain them.

And it’ll show the judge you can be a parent without inflicting cosmetic surgeries onto your child.

We hear that’s a real plus in most family courts.

We always thought that Sharon Stone would be a good mother, particularly because she’d always be getting her vag out to remind you where you’re from.

But maybe Sharon Stone isn’t such a fantastic mother after all, because it turns out that she’s lost physical custody of her eight-year-old son Roan to her ex-husband Phil Bronstein.

That’s upsetting. Not for Sharon Stone – she’s old enough to cope with this – but for her son. After all, this means he’ll never get to experience the unique form of schoolyard bullying that comes from having your naked 50-year-old mother who happens to be an intense figure of hatred to the entire Chinese community drop you off at school every morning. That poor boy. That poor poor boy.

It’s hard to see how Sharon Stone’s 2008 could get any worse, really. Sure, she may have enraged the next superpower-in-waiting by explaining that it deserved its horrific earthquake for the way it was sometimes mean to the Dalai Lama, but that’s not the worst thing to happen to Sharon Stone this year by far. No, the worst thing to happen to Sharon Stone is that next month she’s starring in a Jimmy Fallon film. That’s so awful we almost feel sorry for her.

Oh, and Sharon Stone’s also lost physical custody of her son. But, really, Jimmy Fallon.

Anyway, back to the custody thing. It’s been revealed that Sharon Stone no longer has physical custody of her eight-year-old son Roan despite doing her best to turn that around in court. The LA Times reports:

According to the court documents from a Sept. 12 custody hearing, Phil Bronstein “shall have permanent sole physical custody of child. Court finds that Respondent (Sharon Stone) failed to meet her burden of proof and denies Respondent’s (Sharon Stone’s) request for modification of custody.” The judge also notes that this order is permanent unless there is a change of circumstances.

Actually, we admit it, we do feel a little bit sorry for Sharon Stone here. Having a child taken away from you must be excruciatingly painful. Imagine how lonely it must be to verbally molest an entire nation or have it off with Christian Slater knowing that there isn’t an eight-year-old boy a few feet away with his eyes closed and his hands clamped over his ears wishing he was anywhere else on Earth. It must be really bloody lonely.

Still, you know what this means. It means that Britney Spears needs to watch the hell out. With Sharon Stone losing custody of her son, Britney runs the risk of not being the worst mother in Hollywood any more. If we were Britney we’d be upping our game to counter this title challenge sharpish. And that means one thing – Britney, it’s time to start firing your children out of cannons at helicopters. You know it makes sense.

A public plea: Can someone, anyone, from MTV please immediately go and make a reality TV show about Ryan O’Neal and his family? Thanks.

Because, without question, a TV show about the family life of Ryan O’Neal would hands-down be the best piece of television ever made. Especially if it explained why Ryan O’Neal and his son Redmond were yesterday both arrested on the felony charge of methamphetamine possession.

Wow. So Oscar-nominated actor Ryan O’Neal (father of Tatum O’Neal, the actress who was recently arrested for buying crack) and his son Redmond (who last year tied his half-brother to a staircase like a dog and hit his girlfriend in the head with a fireplace poker until Ryan O’Neal actually had to fire a gun at him to make him stop) might be on drugs. Who knew?

You know what? We’d give anything to be an O’Neal. Seriously, anything. When we were kids, our Dad would just take us out for fishing trips or bike rides or something equally dull. But not Ryan O’Neal. Ryan O’Neal’s a real dad, and here’s why:

*Ryan O’Neal taught his kids that the only way to deal with the grief of losing a pet is to go and buy crack and then pretend you didn’t know it was crack when you’re arrested for it.

*Ryan O’Neal knows that sometimes the only way you can stop your son from waving a fireplace poker around so haphazardly that he injures his own girlfriend’s head because you overreacted to the sight of him tethering your other son to a bannister like a dog to stop him buying drugs is to fire a gun at him.

*Ryan O’Neal knows that the family that gets shitfaced on methamphetamine together stays together. Allegedly.

How much of that did you do with us, Dad? None of it. Thanks Dad. Thanks a lot.

Anyway, Ryan O’Neal and his son Redmond O’Neal have both been arrested on the felony charge of narcotics possession. The New York Daily News reports:

Deputies found what is believed to be methamphetamine on them during a probation sweep of their Malibu home. Father and son were later released on $10,000 bail each. “Authorities found Redmond in possession of narcotics and later discovered the father, Ryan O’Neal, was also in possession of narcotics,” spokesman Steve Whitmore told the Daily News

Of course, the lion’s share of the blame for the arrest has to go to Redmond O’Neal. If he hadn’t got arrested earlier this year for going on a pre-dawn joyride through the streets of Malibu with all sorts of heroin and crystal meth in his possession then the probation squad would have never come a-knocking, leaving Ryan and Redmond to get as allegedly munted on methamphetamine as they like in the privacy of their own home.

Still, it doesn’t matter whose fault the arrest was, or even if Ryan O’Neal and Redmond O’Neal are guilty or innocent. What matters is that the justice system doesn’t punish either of them for this. Seriously. Imagine if this arrest shocked the O’Neals into cleaning up their act and behaving like responsible members of the public for once. This website would go under in seconds. Seconds. We beg of you, don’t let that happen.

When it comes to curly-haired British minor actresses, it goes without saying that Minnie Driver is definitely in our top two or three hundred.

That’s why we’re just so thrilled that Minnie Driver has managed to successfully give birth to her first baby. It’s been reported that Minnie Driver gave birth to her son on Friday, and she’s even named it Henry Story Driver. Story. It’s almost as if Minnie Driver is playing along at being a celebrity, isn’t it? It’s sweet.

Not too much is known about Minnie Driver’s baby, but fingers crossed that it hasn’t inherited Minnie’s humongous jaw and, if it has, that it wasn’t a natural birth. Delivering a baby can be painful enough at the best of times, so imagine how bad it’d be to have an industrial jack holding your clodge apart so you baby’s giant mandible doesn’t get snarled up in it. Congratulations Minnie!

An international team of scientists recently discovered that the words ‘Minnie Driver’ were the two words in the English language least likely to provoke a reaction from any human being, even if they’re actually related to Minnie Driver.

Seriously, finding the point of Minnie Driver is an epic task. Minnie Driver is quite a good actress but not enough to get excited about. She’s quite pretty but not enough to get excited about, either. And we’re studiously avoiding hearing her music because we hear it’s terrible, so we can’t even get excited about that. If it wasn’t for her brief appearance at a Malibu gas rally almost two years ago, we’d barely even remember that Minnie Driver existed.

However, Minnie Driver has had a baby, which is quite good news if you like babies we suppose. And she’s called it Henry Story, after her two favourite things in the world – stories and the film Henry: Portrait Of A Serial Killer. And nobody knows who the dad is.

And, look, that’s it. That’s all we know about Minnie Driver’s baby. Honestly, that’s all anybody knows about Minnie Driver. Even that great bastion of mostly-credible news MSNBC could only manage three minuscule paragraphs about Minnie Driver’s baby before falling back on this enthralling piece of information:

Henry Story was heavier than Matthew McConaughey’s newborn, Levi, who weighed 7 lbs., 4 oz. when he was born in July. And he weighed almost twice as much as the twins born to Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt earlier this summer. Their son, Knox Leon, weighed 5 lbs., 3 oz., while his twin sister, Vivienne Marcheline, weighed in at just 5lbs.

Informative! Actually, MSNBC has a point – Minnie Driver’s baby weighed 9 lbs., 12 oz, which is roughly the same weight as seven basketballs.

And if Minnie Driver can push seven basketballs out of her body, then she’s wasted in Hollywood – she should move to Thailand, where her services will be genuinely appreciated.

Probably the last taboo of motherhood is admitting that you feel affection towards your baby, because it’s crass and almost definitely a lie.

But Christina Aguilera is all about shattering taboos – she shattered the one about not honking like a wounded moose in songs for starters – and that’s why Christina Aguilera has just made history as the first woman ever to publicly say that she actually enjoys spending time with her baby. Of course, Christina Aguilera’s comments happen to neatly tie in with the launch of her new fragrance, so there’s every chance she was just being deliberately controversial to stoke up sales.

Incidentally, we heard that the new Christina Aguilera perfume is inspired by her first few months of motherhood, which is why it smells like a mixture of yellow poo and her own tears.

Being a new mother is supremely hard work. You’ve got to hire staff to look after the baby, tell the staff to be quiet because you’ve got a hangover, keep updating the staff’s photo of yourself so the baby doesn’t forget what you look like… it’s one long nightmare, and sometimes the only thing that’ll keep you going is the thought that one day you can pack the baby off to boarding school and pretend it was never even born.

Unless you’re Christina Aguilera, of course, in which case you inexplicably turn into the baby’s biggest cheerleader the instant it shoots out of your vajuju.

The rest of the world may have a profound indifference to Christina Aguilera’s baby Max Liron – it rolled its eyes when she announced the pregnancy, shrugged when she gave the baby a stupid name and it recoiled when she put it on the cover of a magazine – but that hasn’t stopped Christina Aguilera from banging on and on about the sodding thing to every single person she meets. It’s almost as if she’s proud of it. Urgh. People reports:

“[He is] amazing, incredible,” the singer, 27, tells Entertainment Tonight. “He just lights up my whole world every day with his laughs and his smiles.” She reveals that Max has started crawling and is cutting his first teeth. “He’s a mover and shaker. He’s just a smiley, happy guy. I really lucked out,” Aguilera tells USA Today.

Lucked out? Hardly, Christina – everyone knows that the most lucrative aspect of being a celebrity mother is the post-partum depression. Do you know how much money people get for writing books where they say they wanted to throw their babies against a brick wall? Shitloads of money, that’s how much. And you’re not going to see a penny of it now, all because you actually happen to like your own son.

And it’s not like you went and adopted the baby from a developing country, either, so you can’t even go and make a heartfelt documentary about what a good person you are, either. And you say you’re happy, Christina? Really? A likely story. Excuse us for not believing you.

The death of Andre Young Jr – the 20-year-old son of Dr Dre – has shocked many, mainly because nobody seems to know why he even died.

Andre Young Jr was found dead on Saturday morning. However, the auopsy carried out on his body offered no clues into his cause of death. And that means that everyone involved will have to go through an uncomfortable wait while a toxicology test is carried out.

As sad as this obviously is, the parallels between Dr Dre’s son and Anna Nicole Smith are painfully clear. In short this story will probably go on forever, with weird scary clown facepaint videos and a lengthy investigation into the paternity of Andre Young Jr’s bab… no, wait, it’s nothing like Anna Nicole Smith’s death. Sorry.

We haven’t really covered the untimely death of Dr Dre’s 20-year-old son Andre Young Jr yet. We’re not sure why, since the tragic deaths of non-celebrities is obviously such a rich mine of comedy, isn’t it?

But, to get you up to speed, at around 10am on Saturday morning, Andre Young Jr was found unresponsive in his bed by his mother after a night out with friend. Shortly afterwards, he was declared dead by paramedics.

That in itself must be upsetting enough for Andre’s parents, but the news has been compounded by the fact that his autopsy was inconclusive and he now has to go through a toxicology test. People reports:

“We don’t know yet why he died,” Capt. Ed Winter told PEOPLE Wednesday. “There were no signs of trauma or foul play. We’ll be doing toxicology and other tests, which will take up to six weeks.” A toxicology test is “mainly to determine whether alcohol or drugs played a part in a person’s death,” Capt. Winter said.

Meanwhile, Dr Dre himself has released a statement about Andre’s death:

“Dr. Dre is mourning the loss of his son. Please respect his family’s grief and privacy at this time.”

So, for once, we will.

Gwen Stefani has gone and done what everyone else in the world of celeb-o-vision has been doing recently.

Yes, she’s had a baby with that bloke from over here. You know, that one who used to be semi-famous for that one song his band did. Gavin… something. From Bush.

Anyway, whoever he is and Gwen Stefani have had another child, and they’ve named him after a brand of soft drink or something – Zuma Nesta Rock Rossdale.

What about John? Why not John Rossdale? Or Gavin, like his dad? That’s a normal name. The poor thing’s just being set up for a lifetimr of bullying.

Though we suppose the incredibly wealthy upbringing, rockstar/king of cool mum and… err… “rock” “star” dad will help soften the blow somewhat. Plus brother Kingston will be able to stick up for his little brother, as he is both older and has a better name, even if it isn’t David.

A statement was released to the press from the family, stating in a statementy fashion:

“Kingston, Gwen and Gavin Rossdale welcomed the newest member of their family. Mother, baby and family are all happy and healthy.”

We hoped for something more spectacular, but to be fair they were probably hard at work thinking of what to name the little bugger.

It’s not like that’s a name that could have been pre-planned – we simply wouldn’t place Gwen Stefani as being that cruel a person.

Gavin Rossdale! That’s the one! Ahem…

One good thing to come from all of these recent celeb births is that we have the potential to watch an unfolding social experiment over the course of years.

Which kids will end up in rehab? Which will eclipse their parents? Will we see a new Brat Pack? Will they be in a John Hughes film? What’s Judd Nelson doing right now?

Sorry, got a bit carried away there. Nevertheless, we hope our friends at Paddy Power will get involved in the odds-making. Fifty quid on Kingston and Zuma being more famous than their dad – though we do reckon the odds on that are about 1-400.

While we are happy that we’ve got yet another celeb-o-birth that has managed to avoid a giant amount of fanfare, we can’t help but feel let down for the amount of quotage we’ve been provided. How are we supposed to successfully pad out an article if you’re only going to release a two sentence statement? It means we have to resort to quotes like this, as reported by Channel 4 News:

“Zuma Nesta Rock Rossdale was born in Los Angeles on Thursday afternoon, weighing in at 8lb 8oz (3.9kg).”

Which really doesn’t work too well. Though it does remind us that the poor little blighter is called Zuma – but, to be fair to him, he can just make people call him Rock. It is his name, after all.

Everyone knows what they want from 50 Cent – and that’s gritty, hardcore tales of violent life on the streets.

However, don’t be surprised if 50 Cent’s next CD is a concept album about the art of making quiches and other assorted fancy continental pastry dishes, because 50 Cent, so help us god, has turned soft.

How soft? Get this – 50 Cent wanted to take his little boy on vacation so much that he took, and passed, a court-ordered drug test. Not taking drugs? Caring for his own children? Really, 50 Cent, what kind of role model do you call yourself? Quickly, go and mug a pensioner or shoot a policeman before it’s too late. Yeeuch.

We’re big fans of 50 Cent here at hecklerspray, from that song of his that goes “mumble mumble mumble shoot you mumble dead,” to that other song of his that goes “mumble mumble I got shot mumble mumble did I ever mention that mumble yeah I thought so.” We like 50 Cent because he’s got a formula and he’s not afraid to stick to it.

Even though he lives in a mansion that’s roughly the size of Luxembourg in the middle of a faraway forest, 50 Cent is still as street as they come. He got shot once, you know, did he ever mention that? And he became a drug dealer when he was just 12 years old. And he, um, organises nutritional drives to help combat child obesity.

Basically, if you cut 50 Cent open, he bleeds ghetto. And possibly a little bit of Human Growth Hormone, too. Possibly.

But what’s the least ghetto thing you can think of? How about not taking any drugs so you can go on a lovely holiday with your little boy? Because, as much as it pains us to tell you, that’s what 50 Cent has done.

There’s been a protection order banning 50 Cent from seeing his son Marquise since the house fire that suspiciously gutted the home of Marquise and his mother Shaniqua Tompkins back in May. But 50 Cent wanted to see his son, so he went to court to fight for visitation.

There was one minor caveat set by the court, though – in order to see his son, 50 Cent had to pass a drug test. We’re sorry to tell you that 50 Cent passed. The New York Daily News reports:

Fitty was ordered to take a drug test before a Long Island judge would give him permission to take his son on vacation. Fitty complied, the test came back clean and now he’s free to take 11-year-old Marquise away. “I haven’t seen my son in a while. That’s why I came here today,” the rapper said after he passed the test.

Incidentally, Shaniqua Tompkins was ordered to take the same drug test and hers came back testing positives for opiates. Tompkins is blaming that on cough syrup, but you know what that means? It means 50 Cent is now less street than a woman with the surname Tompkins. You just can’t get less street than that.

Honestly, 50 Cent might feel like he’s accomplished something by passing a drug test and deepening his father-son bond with little Marquise, but this confusing show of maturity is bound to anger and alienate his fans.

Admittedly most 50 Cent fans are so stupid that they’re similarly angered and alienated by things like sentences and original thought, but that’s hardly the point here, is it?