Mimicking the kind of risky, career-stalling move usually only attempted by more established movie stars like Julia Roberts, Jessica Alba has allowed herself to become impregnated by boyfriend Cash Warren. Following the announcement of the happy news, her agents at Endeavor are scrambling to see if they can get her into some kind of knocked-up-single-mom romantic comedy project Reese Witherspoon rejected during the middle stages of her last pregnancy, hoping to keep Alba working even when she can no longer hide her baby bump. [People]

Little interests us less than the contents of Jennifer "Jen-Pez" Lopez's uterus, but when the items on her super-double-top-secret baby gift registry are shockingly! revealed ("We don't talk about any of our clients," says the publicity-shy owner of celebrity-infant-spoiling concern La Petit Tresor with a conspiratorial wink), we take notice. $350 cashmere outfits! $3,500 carriages! The proposed building of standalone nursery-mansions on the grounds of the star's many sprawling estates, each lavishly decorated by the boutique's design consultants! We can hardly wait for Lopez to pop out her twins directly onto the cover of People, allowing us all a first look at all the fun things Jen's besties bought for the tykes. [Rush & Molloy]

At long last, Nicole Richie has lifted the media blackout surrounding her pregnancy by Joel Madden—lead singer of seminal, early-Oughts angst-pop outfit Good Charlotte—giving Access Hollywood's celebrity-baby-obsessed Billy Bush carte blanche to ask the not-burning questions we had zero investment in the answers to.

Isla Fisher and Sacha Baron Cohen had a bouncing baby...um...baby. (Reports are still sketchy.) We've shelved the Borat jokes, so guess it's time to break out the Bruno ones! Here's hoping the little one doesn't grow up to be a Scheißendummführer, and if it's a boy, winds up with a large schwanzenstück like his father. [People]

Figures. Just when the Jolie-Pitt Army of Uber-Moppets had us convinced we could kill time on a slow Monday by cheerfully hand-picking any adorable foreign-born tyke we want and raising it as our own, Madonna has to come along and rain on our parade. Apparently, the good people of Malawi can't decide if she's a wicked, rapacious hellion or a serious(ly rich) potential parent for Malawian quasi-orphan David Banda; finally, per Reuters, they've apparently chosen Door No. 2, but not without totally removing the possibility of more thrilling, head-shaking indecision:

Rest easy—all is well at Birkhead Manor, even if Us Weekly's cover story on Anna Nicole Smith's last living heir somewhat disconcertingly crops daddy Larry out of the picture. (At least we're hoping those disembodied hands are Larry's, and not Tony Potts placing the one-year-old in a duffel bag for transportation to a contractually mandated appearance at Access Hollywood's studios.) And while the "$472 million baby" may tragically never get to meet her mommy, Dannielynn will at least be able to experience her through the multimedia shrine her father has erected in Anna Nicole's honor:

The incredible odyssey of little David Banda—the adorable Malawian demi-orphan plucked from a sea of thousands of less-cute African children by late-to-the-game global humanitarian Madonna—has hit a significant snag. From the Reuters report:

Eddie Murphy, who since his soul-crushing Oscar night disappointment has withdrawn inside a fortress of fat-lady-latex solitude and refused to accept visitors, has remained highly skeptical of claims made by former girlfriend Scary "When Can We Drop These Idiotic Nicknames Already" Spice (aka Melanie Brown) that the child she carried to term last April was his own. Now, Brown's camp is telling People that the result of Murphy's June 11 DNA test prove the baby is "110 percent" his:

On the occasion of the birth of her third child, we at Defamer would like to offer an apology to Julia Roberts, for we've been so consumed with one-time dabbler in biological reproduction Angelina Jolie's every orphan-collecting whim that we've allowed ourselves to fall tragically out of touch with the Most Powerful Womb in Hollywood, forgetting that Roberts was even pregnant. This oversight on our part is especially embarrassing, as Roberts, unlike Jolie, has never publicly commented on the overprivileged blobbiness of her "real" children or used the press to work through any complicated feelings about the difficult decision to choose her empty uterus over crowded Third World orphanages, a noble commitment to privacy that deserves far more media attention than it currently receives. We promise to do better with the next pregnancy, assiduously tracking it with our finest gigantic red arrows from the earliest Us Weekly baby-bump to eventual exclusive People announcement of its healthy birth weight.

The ex-con who had once plotted to kidnap David Letterman's infant son while working as a painter on the talk show host's Montana ranch has succeeded in executing yet another jaw-dropping maneuver straight out of the Depression-Era Crime Movie Playbook: He escaped with another inmate from the Montana State Prison where he was being held, and, four days later, the two are still on the run:

Sure, pressing one's extremities into wet pavement outside the Chinese Theater provides a certain level of immortality for an aging movie star hoping to leave something behind besides Walmart bins full of marked-down copies of The Guardian, but there's nothing quite like the doughy, powder-scented palpability of a freshly sired newborn to fully reinvigorate one's faith in one's own enduring legacy:

NBC Universal reportedly paid $1 million for exclusive access to Dannielynn Hope Marshall Birkead, a deal that is now culminating in her Journey to America, as well as an honorary godfather title and round-the-clock blankey duty for Access Hollywood reporter Tony Potts:

In a savvy and lucrative media transaction that would have made her mother proud, 7-month-old Dannielynn Hope Marshall Stern quietly arranged to sell the exclusive first photos of herself posing with recently adopted biological father Larry Birkhead to OK! magazine (pictured on the front page of today's NY Post, cooing adorably on his belly). In the interview, Birkhead shed some light on what originally drove a wedge between the two lovers (hint: it rhymes with "rugs"), as well as demonstrated an amazing capacity for forgiveness towards his babymomma-hogging nemesis, Howard K. Stern:

Admittedly, we had prepared in advance for other possible outcomes, but in our hearts, we always knew that no amount of baby home hair-coloring products could cover the golden locks Larry Birkhead passed down to his genetic progeny. Moments ago, the elated Entourage background player announced to a gathered crowd that Dannielynn was 99.9999% his. Howard K. Stern then told reporters he was "obviously very disappointed," but that he would "do everything I can to make sure he gets sole custody," as opposed to the baby's overzealous grave-filling grandmother Virgie Arthur. Reports then have the two former adversaries hugging it out, bitch—a tender moment of reconciliation that would have been incredibly moving if it didn't instantly bring to mind the slashfic Stern-on-Birkhead fantasy that scarred us some weeks ago. Developing...

As you may have gathered from the above TMZ headlines (omitted for space: "Person We Don't Recognize Arrives" and "EXCLUSIVE: Courtroom Door Opens and Closes Bunch of Times!"), we are but moments away from learning the results of the DNA tests that will determine the parentage of the last living Anna Nicole heir, Dannielynn Smith. Rest assured, we are keeping on top of this developing story that you have long since stopped caring about, but not so much that you don't want to find out how it all turns out. We now return to our regularly scheduled, non-babydaddy-related programming.

The world waited with bated breath yesterday for a Bahamian judge to take a coin to a Scratch N' Win Paternity Lottery ticket and reveal the three matching babydaddy heads responsible for fathering Dannielynn Smith. But, as should surprise no one in this protracted case of slow-moving Caribbean justice, none such revelation occurred:

After submitting a DNA sample to Bahamian authorities (we prefer to maintain our blissful ignorance of how exactly that was achieved), Howard K. Stern made an 11th hour attempt at blocking the results. It was a legal action we're almost certain arose out his desire for privacy at this difficult moment, and not, say, because he bore even the slightest shadow of a doubt that Dannielynn wasn't stamped as 100% his own loinfruit product. Now comes word that the courts have shot down his appeal:

Rita Cosby, MSNBC's in-house champion for Anna Nicole Smith-related justice and any incidental ratings that might haphazardly come out of that crusade, reports (and TMZ instinctively regurgitates like a sparrow feeding its scoop-hungry young) that our national (not that one) might soon be over: Larry Birkhead and the baby he claims is his own both have had DNA samples extracted:

As we previewed yesterday, Tori Spelling, the little girl we all watched grow up, earn a starring role on her father's hit TV show, stage several failed comeback attempts, wreck a marriage, fail to show up to her father's deathbed, air her petty grievances with her mother on a series of celebrity rag covers, get pregnant, then turn the entire experience into an Oxygen network reality show, can now add another impressive line to her already inspirational biography: Loving mother of a healthy baby boy.

Try as we might to hold on tight as the The Great American Anna Nicole Coaster takes us on its shriek-inducing journey, there really is no point, as there is always another 360° plunge lying ahead that you never quite saw coming. Case in point: this Phoenix New Times story about Marshall Soto, allegedly the 5-year-old product of an affair Smith had with Johnny Soto, a handyman from the Tohono O'odham Nation she met during a stay at the Sanctuary Resort and Spa on Camelback Mountain. To call the article a must-read is an understatement. An example: