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Hello! Richard is in Los Angeles sunning himself on a beach and sipping mai tais as we slog away here on the East Coast (or, more likely, is sleeping, which he can't really be blamed for given it's not yet 8 a.m. out there). Thus, I am his humble replacement. Please be kind. Or don't be. Gossip time! For every baby name there shall be a handgun, Miss USA denies Lochte love, Bob Dylan invokes the p-word, and Blake and Ryan's no-longer-secret wedding secrets are out.

Levi Johnston's wee babe has been birthed, causing TMZ to utilize the worst possible headline for such an occasion—"Levi Showing Off His Tiny Johnston," so help us God. But then, Johnston and girlfriend Sunny Oglesby named their baby girl Breeze Beretta, which means she'll be forced to star in Magnum P.I. reboots or maybe own a car dealership someday, and the family that hunts bears together, the Johnston-Oglesbys, pretty much deserve everything they get, headline-wise. Did we mention that Breeze is named after a gun? A gun. In related news, Johnston claimed he was "actually in love" with Oglesby back in May (not just in fake we're-having-a-kid-together cough-Bristol love) which means he's not only in flagrant violation of baby names and common decency, but of crutch words, too. Um. Oh, also, Mr. Former Jessica Simpson and 98 Degrees person Nick Lachey and Vanessa Lachey née Minillo had a baby and named it Smith & Wesson, or, actually, "Camden John." Playdates to ensue. [TMZ, People, Us Weekly]

Agh, Heidi Klum, separated from Seal, is dating her bodyguard! Is it a "proper relationship"? No one knows, not even Heidi herself, and what is a proper relationship, anyway? These are questions Katie Couric cannot answer on national TV, where Klum appeared to talk boyfriends today. Here's what we do know: This bodyguard's name is Martin Kirsten, so he has two first names and one of them is a lady's. He has been with the family for four years, and he carries coffee and looks a wee bit dour in photos, but, then, anyone might given all these questions without answers. Love is a rocky road, guys. Hold tight to your Starbucks. [Us Weekly]

Ah, a romance dead in the water. American swim hero Ryan Lochte was said to have been possibly maybe wooing Miss USA Olivia Culpo after the two experienced a chance meeting at Fashion Week. It's easy to imagine that the sparks might fly with these two, what with their glowing skin and white teeth and fluttery eyelashes under well-crafted eyebrows, not to mention their shared sense of values for American institutions like beauty pageants and athletic competitions. Alas, it is not to be. In so much as, there's been a denial that it is. Culpo says that they just met, and that was that, people saw them together and thus began a gossip train that started to roll down the proverbial talk tracks, but she's putting on the brakes and stopping that train now. She is single. So there. But, a secret diagnosis: Even if they are really truly in a love born of a chance meeting at Fashion Week, eyes locked in tents, gasps of breath and hearts pumping with the blood of sudden lust, their names would simply never work together as a pithy portmanteau. Culpochte? Lulpo? These two are star-crossed indeed. Where is Nathan Adrian, anyway? Miss ya, boo. [Page Six]

Bob Dylan talked to Rolling Stone—he's on the cover of the issue that comes out Friday, squinty-eyed and crepey and knowing—about plagiarism and not citing sources properly, among other things, things he has been accused of himself, by a bunch of jerks. Turns out, he thinks complaining about that junk is super-dupes lame: "Wussies and pussies complain about that stuff," he says. And, "All those evil motherfuckers can rot in hell." Bob, you are a national treasure, you are. [Rolling Stone]

Is it possible that Kristen Stewart has come out of that whole thingamabob with married director Rupert Not-Grint looking better than ever? Because, honestly, she looks terribly good, happy and smiley and shiny, even when she's wearing the clothes of he-who-must-not-be-named, that Edward Cullen doll. According to an interview with MTV News at the Toronto Film Festival, she is now relaxing and trying to decide what to do next, taking her time, and we hope getting lots of massages and her hair brushed out by tiny house-elves, hanging out and reading scripts and, really, doing whatever she wants to do. She's 22, after all, she's got a whole life ahead of her, which may or may not include doing the adaptation of William Styron's Lie Down in Darkness: Not a Vampire Movie. Or is it? [MTV]

The new, hideous Barclay's Center is shaping up to be really pretty something-list. Ellen Pompeo, she of Dr. McDreamy's Meredith in Grey's Anatomy, a show which is, still, apparently on the air even though we stopped watching it after she fake-died, or whatever happened that time, is in real life a rabid Brooklyn Nets fan, or plans to become one. In fact, she plans to spend more time in New York City—"Brooklyn is already an iconic city," she says, whatever that means—when she's done with the show. She's also friendly with Jay-Z, oh yes indeed, and gushed about his mad skills, calling him a man with the Midas touch and "an American dream story." Her season tickets were "absolutely an investment." OK, fine, all we remember about Pompeo comes from that lady magazine we once read that said she snacked on slices of low-fat cheese wrapped in turkey or maybe it was ham, something we think about whenever we're staring into our empty refrigerator late at night, so her opinion means, if not nothing, also not necessarily everything. But also, other celebs are glomming onto the Nets as well, as are a few regular people, whom we won't mention because this is not about them. Ne-Yo and Sway Calloway (of the MTV) have purchased season tickets, while Mad Money's Jim Cramer and Maggie Gyllenhaal have "inquired" about buying arena seats. This is going to be one star-studded ugly-ass stadium, presuming Jim Cramer counts as a star or a stud. Spike Lee, however, will not be swayed from the Knicks, so count him out. [New York Post]

How in heaven's name did Blake Lively and Ryan Reynolds keep their wedding secret? They didn't tell anyone who they were. Also, they confiscated cell phones and insisted upon non-disclosure agreements. Fun! People found out anyway, though, when some jerk went and picked up a bunch of coffee claiming it was for a magazine shoot, because if there's one way to track down a celebrity wedding it's with the old "I need coffee—ahem, ahem—for a, yeah, magazine shoot, mmhmm," excuse. "What magazine is the shoot for?" inquires the barista politely. "Oh my God I don't know fine it's a wedding! BLAKE LIVELY AND RYAN REYNOLDS ARE GETTING MARRIED!!!" shouts said jerk, who then overturns the tray of coffee, stains his pants, and flees the coffeeshop, getting in a car to drive, drive, drive, until things begin to make sense again, at which point he may or may not be in Canada, land of another Ryan. Also, the place where the two were getting married, Boone Hall Plantation, was inexplicably closed, with a large sign on the door that read "Top Secret Famous People Wedding Here." Encyclopedia Brown that. [People

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