Star magazine is up to its old tricks, using their advanced tabloid mainframe to project what the hellspawn of white-trashy pop star/part-time waitress Britney Spears and white-trash-aspirational background-dancing inseminator extraordinaire Kevin Federline might look like. Unfortunately for the potential male offspring, that do rag is not a fashion accessory, it's the top of the poor tyke's head; removing it would expose his already massively-disadvantaged brain to the elements.

A couple of stories of note from the weekend, which were not nearly compelling enough to halt our three-day Easter egg hunt:

Just in case you needed a little reminder.

· What does Britney Spears need to do get our attention these days? Yup, you guessed it: Get a new pair of surgically-enhanced cans.* Crude and clichéd, but always effective.
· Awwww snap! Denise Richards got served! Excuse us for that, we don't know what got into us. Denise Richards got served, yo!
· How much would you pay to have lunch with Teri Hatcher? OK, now how much would you pay for a charity lunch with Teri Hatcher with absolutely no chance that the two of you would hit it off and engage in consensual sex?
· My Blog is Poop uncovers a number of celebrity fetishes; curiously absent from the list is any mention of splatting. We question the accuracy of the entire thing.
· Dynamic Homoerotic Duos, Part 1: starring Ice Man and Maverick.

Earlier, I had confessed my secret desire to run my tongue along the stubble of Mr. Britney Spears, Kevin Federline. But now there's a new debate:

The Observer is on to me. Today, Doree Shafrir came clean about her Kevin Federline obsession, and now I know my naughty little secret isn t just my problem. You see, I too am uncontrollably hot for K-Fed. The Observer totally nailed this one: his puffiest white shoes, his big ego, and his scruffy good looks all add up to some hardcore sex appeal, and I m ready to come out my Federline closet.

You gotta be kidding.

In the future, every background-dancing, dual-bastard-siring, pop-star-marrying goldbricker will be famous for 15 minutes. Stereogum transcribes some of the chihuahua-clutching action:

While it's not as graphic or demonstrative as honeymoon pics, Kevin Federline's highly-anticipated interview in the latest issue of Details is just as telling. Stereogum took the time to transcribe some of the more insightful bits:

Is there anything more heartwarming than the glow of two trashed newlyweds on their $2000/night honeymoon? We think not. Thanks to the forthcoming US Weekly, we can witness love in its purest form: Britney Spears and Kevin Federline's Fiji honeymoon, sponsored by Charles Shaw, Forever 21, and Camel Lights.

Hey, when did Britney Spears get married? We have only the vaguest recollection of background dancing, illegitimate children, and buckets of the Colonel's finest. Her wedding photos have finally hit the internet, but the set is woefully incomplete. Nowhere do we see the army of prenup-wielding lawyers trailing Kevin Federline with a pen, or the altar where the orphaned Chinese baby girls were sacrificed to put Satan's infernal stamp on their union. Look for those missing pictures to appear sometime next week.

I don't know about you guys, but when I get married, I'll wear a Dior gown (something better than Melania's, 'cause that thing was cheap), my reception will have a chocolate fondue fountain surrounded by ice sculptures, and my husband will sport a Bad Teenage Mustache—just like Kevin Federline! While Britney Spears and her houseboy are by no means competing in our Race From the Altar (their love is special, ya'll), Gawker is still happy to present images from the best day in the history of the world ever. Just some inspiration, you know, for your own nuptial plans. And, not to toot our own horn, but we TOTALLY scooped Modern Bride on this one. After the jump, choice wedding pictures worth slightly less than a thousand words.

It's Friday, so we'll write just about anything, including this: Jamie-Lynn Spears is enlisting the help of Yahweh to make sure she doesn't end up barefoot and betrucker-hatted like her older sister, popite Britney. The "rising young star" spent all of last weekend in a "Disciple Now" bible study, which is a 48-hour retreat for, um, Jesus-y stuff. Jamie's religious devotion is rather understandable; if you were related to Britney Spears, you'd probably spend your weekend praying, too. Juicee News reports that "the youth group treated Jamie just like they did everybody else," but we imagine that sort of treatment will change once Jamie's ovum is inevitably poisoned with Kevin Federline's bastard seed.
Spears' Kid Sister on the Straight and Narrow? [Juicee News Daily]

Britney Spears may have finally learned her lesson about wearing shoes in public bathrooms, but she's still deliciously slow on the uptake when it comes to realizing that paparazzi cameras are constantly trained on her balcony. Now that these pictures are circulating over the internets, she might finally cancel her weekly "Naked Jazzercise" session.

· People's Choice Awards attendee or Star Wars character?
· Enjoy this highly fictionalized, but still highly entertaining, account of a party at Asia Argento's old place in Venice. We always suspected she played the theremin.
· We know that brother blog Gizmodo only jokingly refers to these pics of the brand-spanking-new Mac mini and iPod Shuffle as "porn," but we still can't shake the feeling people are touching themselves while browsing through them.
· Federline...a new scent by Britney Spears.
· Looking to pick up a nightclub on the way home from work? If you've got a million bucks in your Escalade, you can (probably) have Ivar.

Shadowy fashion player-hater Mr. Blackwell has emerged from his stylish groundhog hole to issue his 45th annual "Worst Dressed" list. (That's right, he's been at this long enough to bore our grandparents with his catty nonsense.) This year's picks are like taking a jackhammer to a bag of paralyzed kittens, as Nicolette Sheridan (she wins, she wins!), Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton (everyone together now: She wears clothes?), Britney Spears, and Paul Abdul all feel the sassy sting of his superannuated tongue. While we'd love to ignore all of this dirty business and return to important work of analyzing Brad and Jen's break-up, we do feel compelled to defend one of Blackwell's victims. He probably thought that Serena Williams showed up to every movie premiere draped in the same hairy, fleshy cape, but that was just boyfriend Brett Ratner hugging her during the red carpet photo ops.

Seventeen magazine is way smart, yo. They know that a lucrative 7 million girls suffer from eating disorders and of those girls, most will have succumbed to their illness before age 20. What luck that that sample of ladies happens to intersect with Seventeen's demographic. We're not preaching, mind you—except to the congregation of hot profits! Next month, after your remarkably vulnerable 13 year-old sister loses 10 pounds by following the mag's tips and tricks, Seventeen will show her how to use Crest Whitestrips after her post-meal bathroom sessions. Rad!
Seventeen

· Britney Spears is obviously having a little fun with the public. She probably just meant she's going to shine a blacklight over Kevin Federline every time he comes home, checking for his trademark bastard batter on his clothes.
· Oliver Stone can't win. The gays say Alexander ain't gay enough, and the Bible Belt thinks it's handing out free hummers in West Hollywood. They all pretty agree that it sucks, however. It's a uniter, not a divider.
· Rush & Molly offer an up-to-the-minute briefing on Hollywood's tsunami relief efforts. If a new Boy George song can't put Sri Lanka back together again, what can?
· Open relationships, magic espresso, and, best of all, pregnant teens infect the Sims 2 universe. It's just like living in Chatsworth! (We don't even know what that means.) [via Waxy,org]
· Headline of the millennium: BLAKE'S VOMITING DIDN'T SEEM SINCERE TO WITNESSES [via BoingBoing]

· "Micro Management is about evil midgets who take over Titan Industries, a United States defense contractor and missile manufacturer, and attempt to use the missiles to blow up Disneyland." Holy fucking shit, someone must make this movie right fucking now.
· Vividblurry provides Britney Spears with a cautionary guide to her inevitable pregnancy. We wouldn't want little DoMe Federline to start her life with any physical disadvantages, would we?
· Apparently tired with conspicuously purchasing her sex tape, Paris Hilton now moves on to conspicuously stealing her sex tape.
· We'd once spent a leisurely afternoon trying to figure out Dennis Quaid, but then we said fuck it—that guy is an enigma.

We've spent the better part of the day avoiding Britney Spears' latest Letter of Truth, but as the afternoon drags on and we slip ever deeper into the recesses of a severe caffeine hole, we find our best efforts at resistance utterly futile in the face of her prose. But where to start? Trying to examine each crucial life update offered by Spears is certainly an exercise in madness, sure to leave us bleeding from the ears and cursing God for gifting the pop star so much and us so little. So we do what we can to preserve the last of our fragile sanity, chipping away a tiny piece of Spears' constantly-evolving Rosetta Stone: