The rapidly-developing Gabby Petito murder mystery leaves the 'Enquirer' behind as it tries and fails to stay ahead of breaking news with its cover story: "Gabby Murder Horror: What Brian's Parents Know!" There's only one problem: the 'Enquirer' has no idea what Petito boyfriend Brian Laundrie's family knows.
"Top law enforcement sources believe the couple covered up for their son – and may have secretly communicated with him!" claims the report. But there's no evidence proving either possibility, and as for what Brian Laundrie's parents might know, the best the 'Enquirer' can offer is a question: "What do they know?" Perhaps as little as 'Enquirer' readers.
"Oldest & Fattest Man Ever In Space." That would be William Shatner, whose worldly achievements apparently boil down to his age and weight. A doctor who naturally has never treated the former 'Star Trek' actor says that his recent 11-minute flight into space could kill him within weeks, as "the sudden massive forces of gravity during flight increase his risk of breaking off plaque from his arteries and suffering a heart attack or stroke." You can always trust the 'Enquirer' to look for the cloud in every silver lining.
"America's Most Dangerous Bridges State By State!" It's a worthy yet stultifying four-page exercise in listing US bridges "in need of repair." Like "Route 171 over Big Darby Creek" in Ohio, and "I-89 NB over Connecticut River" in Vermont. There are equally exciting revelations about bridges in all 50 states – that's certain to boost 'Enquirer' sales nationwide, isn't it?
Hasn't Britney Spears suffered enough? Evidently not, according to the 'Enquirer' story: "New Blow For Britney! Dark web plans to make her XXX star." The report claims that Britney's father filmed her having sex in her bugged bedroom, and "now she could be caught in an X-rated scandal" as wickedly warped weirdos aim to sell her sex tapes online. No, no and no. Her father is understood to have used audio recording devices, not video in her bedroom; and if such video existed her father is unlikely to have allowed it to fall into the hands of anyone who would sell it as a sex tape on the dark web. It's yet another hot erotic fantasy in the sex-starved 'Enquirer' editorial offices.
"Charles' Bribe Scandal Patsy!" Prince Charles' aide Michael Fawcett is poised to take the blame for allegedly selling Royal titles for cash, claims the 'Enquirer.' Hardly surprising, really, since months ago it was Fawcett accused of such an offense, and it's the 'Enquirer' that has been repeatedly trying to sell the yarn that Charles was behind the scheme.
"Queen Kills Andrew Sex Crimes Probe!" proclaims the cover story. No, Scotland Yard killed its own probe into Prince Andrew's alleged sex crimes, reportedly finding no new evidence to pursue in the UK. If the Queen ever tried to influence the British police in the prosecution of their duties that would be a constitutional scandal that could genuinely threaten to undermine the monarchy. HRH knows better.
"Harry & Meghan Land $1.3B Bank Gig." No, their "bank gig" isn't worth $1.3 billion to the royal renegades. The environmentally-conscious Ethic bank has $1.3 billion in investment capital, and it's safe to assume that only the most minute fraction of that will go toward Prince Harry and Duchess Meghan's new role as "impact partners," which is another name for "over-paid PR shills."
"Judge Judy Stabs TV Bailiff In The Back!" Figuratively speaking, that is. When Judge Judy launched a new show, the side-kick who played her court bailiff for 25 years was not invited to go with her. "I was treated as an afterthought," says Petri Hawkins-Byrd. Then again, the show wasn't called "Bailiff Byrd," was it?
"Secret Sub Sandwich Lands Couple In Jam!" How many food puns can the 'Globe' squeeze into one article about a Naval engineer and his teacher wife who allegedly "plotted to sell top-secret plans for US nuclear submarines hidden in a peanut butter sandwich"? The plans were hidden in the sub sandwich, that is – not a submarine secreted in a sandwich. The couple also allegedly passed secrets hidden inside a Band-Aid wrapper, and a pack of chewing gum. It sounds like they'd been watching too many episodes of 'Mission: Impossible.'
It's yet another Royal cover story: "Prince William's Passion – Why I'm Speaking Out Now." His passion is for the environment, not anything kinky, though that would been more interesting than William's "exclusive" chat with 'People' magazine, which amounts to a handful of anodyne sentences that could easily have been randomly generated by an AI publicity algorithm. Presenting awards for his first Earthshot Prize, William says: "By recognizing these efforts and supporting and scaling them to be the best they can be, we can inspire the confidence that a healthier, more sustainable future is within our grasp." Spoken like a true robot. How did 'People' stretch a few meagre Royal sentences into six full pages? With the addition of vacuous commentary from aides and associates, offering such gems as: "It wouldn't be fair to say the future of the planet is on William's shoulders." Oh, wouldn't it?
"Gwyneth's Most Revealing Interview Ever!" This from the actress who brought us the joys of jade vaginal eggs and a vagina-scented candle? How much more revealing can Gwyneth Paltrow get? Not much, apparently. "If a woman likes sex, there's nothing wrong with her!" she offers. "I focus on meditation, hydration, eating nutrient-dense foods and not having tons of alcohol." Is half a ton of alcohol okay, then?
"This Is My Daughter Ruby" says actress Jamie Lee Curtis, introducing her trans daughter as they discuss the latter's coming out. "How can I do this better?" asks Jamie Lee, who appears the epitome of the supportive, loving and compassionate parent every child would want – except around Halloween, when she tends to be screaming in terror much of the time.
This must be 'People' magazine's Serous Illness Issue: "Ady Barkan knows he's dying of ALS. But it's not his only fight: He's also battling to get home health care for everyone who needs it." "Selma Blair – I Want to Tell the Truth About MS." "Meghan McCain – My Struggle With Postpartum Anxiety." "Michael J. Fox Is In a 'Really Good Groove" – living with Parkinson's disease since 1992. An inspirational and deeply depressing issue.
If it's not the British Royals, it may as well be the Kardashian Klan on the cover, as it is this week: "Kourtney Says 'Yes!' To Travis. Wedding Countdown!" Will Kourtney Kardashian and rocker Travis Barker's alleged five-day wedding ceremony really "cost $15 million"? Or could 'Us Weekly' be exaggerating a smidgen? Even if they get his 'n' hers full-body tattoos it couldn't cost anywhere near that much. Kardashian klan momager Kris Jenner posted on social media a photomontage of the couple with the caption: "the most beautiful, adorable, affectionate, fabulous, made for each other couple in the world!" Can't wait to see what she writes if they ever break up.
"Queen's Sad Last Days." Really? Being broke, homeless and terminally ill makes for sad last days. The Queen has simply cancelled a few official engagements on doctor's orders, and is resting in the lap of luxury surrounded by servants and the best doctors other people's money can buy. "Ready To Step Down?" asks the story. You''ll have to prize the crown and scepter out of her cold, dead hands before she willingly gives them up.
"What Erika Knows." Apparently what 'Real Housewives of Beverly Hills' star Erika Jayne knows can fit into a page and a half of 'Us Weekly.' Is anyone surprised it took up that much space?
Thankfully we have the crack investigative team at 'Us Weekly' to tell us that Emily Ratajkowski wore it best (is it a coincidence that whoever shows the most skin invariably "wore it best"?), that country singer Zac Brown is "not sure how many total hats I have" but reckons it's "about eight or 10" (though how hard is it to keep count of ten hats, and how many "partial hats" might he own?), and that the stars are just like us: they dine on the go, shop for shoes, and "snuggle their pup!" What 'Us Weekly' doesn't say, but which is patently evident from the photos of Jared Leto, Chace Crawford, Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis, is that the stars are slobs who go out in public wearing shapeless baggy sweaters and sweatpants looking unwashed, ungroomed and disheveled – just like us.
Onwards and downwards . . .