Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon renewed their vows earlier this week, and now Tori Spelling and Dean McDermott are are planning on doing it. Someone please put an end to this!

Per this little attention stunt—yooouuuuuu're duuuuumb. (Then again... somebody has to live the dream.) [Zoomdoggle]

"It never occurred to me that at the ripe old age of 26 that I would need a 'filler,' but apparently I did," blogs Mary Rambin, the handbag-designing beta chimp to the blogging-retired Star talking head Julia Allison's alpha. You might remember Mary as the older sister of Leven, the jailbait soap actress who a.) stole Julia's last boyfriend, and b.) is currently dating Mens' Vogue's Hud Morgan, who recently got slapped by the NYO's Spencer Morgan at the Beatrice. Now Mary is seeing Julia's dermatologist, who has convinced her to plump up her lips (or possibly her nonexistent wrinkles, we're not sure yet) with injections at the tender age of 26! (Video coming soon; we're waiting with bated breath.) Honey, that's not the thing that ladies are supposed to admit to! You're supposed to take a "nice vacation to Florida" for facelifts, or a "long lunch meeting" for chemical peels. Also? Rambin outed Allison as having hair extensions. (Guess that wasn't actually a secret; we knew there was something a little too shiny about that girl's weave!)

"I have been putting off doing this Rate-A-Date because I genuinely liked Paul Janka. I felt bad for him in a way," writes Kelly Kreth, the ousted New York Press sex columnist, PR bunny, and seeker of any and all forms of attention. Paul Janka, Manhattan's slimiest bachelor and minor internet-celebrity, "seemed lost and confused and completely harmless... He is just a man with a compulsion that needs to be addressed... He graduated from Harvard and is pretty smart and intense, but it would seem that a few years ago he became aimless. He worries, too, that he isn't contributing to society." Not with a tract called How To Get Laid in NYC, he isn't. Her five-hour date with him is full of frankly disturbing scatological descriptions that cross the line into the clinically weird. It also reminds us where all the smart girls are on a Sunday night: not going on dates as a "media joke."