The woman selected by Sarah Jessica Parker and Matthew Broderick as the surrogate for their twin girls is a self-proclaimed “bisexual rocker.” According to the Daily Mail

Michelle Ross, who has previously acted as a surrogate mother for a New York gay couplel, is reportedly due to give birth in July.

Her MySpace profile reveals, ‘I have had pink hair and tattoos and spiked collars. My favourite shoes are five-inch black spike heels which lace up the front. I love metal and rock down to the bones.’

Michelle has a tattoo on one of her wrists of an overlapped pink and blue triangle, a symbol for bisexuality. On MySpace Ross identifies herself as ‘bi[sexual].’

Well, if Matthew couldn’t carry the twins to term himself, I suppose an ugly gay woman is probably the next best thing. The twins will probably never even know the difference, anyway.

With son James Wilke Broderick in the West Village this week:

Jamie Lynn Spears is reportedly undergoing a C-section today due to pregnancy complications. The National Enquirer says

The 17 year-old’s ultrasound last week [indicated] her baby may be in breech position. Britney and her father Jamie left Los Angeles Wednesday morning on a commercial flight to join Jamie Lynn. The baby is a girl.

Jamie Lynn’s grandmother was surprised to discover the baby was breech. “But she done did ev’rything right!” her grandmother was quoted as saying. “She din’t wear no high heels so’uns the baby won’t be borned crosseyed. She din’t never look at a snake an’ always carried a acorn in her pockit for good luck. It just don’t make no sense!” She then told me Jamie Lynn could cure warts by buying them for a dollar and that I shouldn’t go barefoot without my longhandles before May 10.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Every last one of those is a real mountian superstition. Viva Appalachia!

UPDATE: Us Weekly is reporting that Jamie Lynn gave birth this morning to a baby girl name Maddie.

At Wal-Mart May 30th:

Sometimes, when I’m writing out that $300 check to the U.S. Department of Education, I’ll stop and look up at the diploma hanging over the desk and wonder, “Was it all worth it?” The four years I spent earning my journalism degree; the other two I spent binge drinking and withdraw/failing; the seemingly insurmountable debt — all for one little piece of paper. And then something like this little tidbit from The Sun comes along, and I just have to close my eyes and smile and nod knowingly:

If you thought Jessica was the busty one in the Simpson family - you were wrong. Younger sister Ashlee, out of nowhere, is providing the Dukes Of Hazard star with some healthy competition. It looks like she’s developed a pair of Christina Aguilera-style pregnancy boobs. Either that or the wiring of her bra is truly immense. The mystery deepens…

So was it all worth it? Yes, my friends. Yes, it was.

Ashlee and her monster bazooms with Pete Wentz yesterday:

Angelina Jolie officially announced her pregnancy on Saturday without actually officially announcing it by showing up to the Independent Spirit Awards in a skin-tight black dress showcasing a visibly pregnant belly. You know, using your clothes to make a statement can be a very effective way to communicate without using words. Like when you had a monster boner in the seventh grade and the teacher made you go to the board to diagram a sentence, for example. Your pants effectively communicated your love for nominative pronouns and objects of the preposition to the entire class. And then our snickering and pointing effectively communicated our delighted contempt for you. Sometimes words only serve to get in the way.

Angie and Brad at the Awards Saturday in Santa Monica:

The Daily Mail attributes Gwyneth Paltrow’s recent weight lost and arduous fitness regime to her mysterious hospital visit on Monday, but rumors of a possible pregnancy are starting to surface elsewhere on the net. According to Rush and Molloy:

“[Husband Chris Martin and she] looked very serious,” a witness tells us. “She looked upset. They went right past everyone and into the elevator. It seemed like they were expected.” Our spy [also reported] that Martin and Paltrow entered Mount Sinai’s maternity wing, the Klingenstein Pavilion.

I’d say a baby sounds about right. You don’t usually go into the maternity ward with “bulimia” or “removing the giant stick from your pompous ass.” Just like you wouldn’t go to a proctologist for swollen tonsils and a sore throat. Not unless you want to find out the distance from your asshole to the back of your throat in medical tubing feet,¹ that is. It’s not pleasant, believe me, but it’s a real conversation starter at parties.

¹_{That’d be 26 feet and 11 inches, for those of you interested.}

An unusually smiley Gwyneth leaving a pub in North London last month: