Oh, glorious Monday. A weekend of Peter Cook (stay tuned...), a morning of kismet, and, now, an afternoon of speculation. Our daily newsfix, Page Six, reports today that stay-in-bed nineties supermodel Linda Evangelista is pregnant, via—and hold your condemnation as we hold our fire—a turkey baster. Which, to walk the cat back for you Dear Readers more accustomed to all things au naturel, requires someone to, er, fill it.

Evangelista, who miscarried in 1999 when she was seeing French soccer star Fabien Barthez, has refused to say who the new dad is, although "a New York architect" has been mentioned by fashion insiders.

· Who's the Dad? [New York Post]

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The beat goes on and on. First, we were remiss yesterday in not passing on the URL to what may be the best angle yet on the B-list-architect-bones-his-A-list-assistant scandale of the century. Then a Reader schooled us: it is revealed therein that good, sweet, slithering Diana Bianchi was getting paid $50/hour to file drawings and sort carpet samples fuck her boss.

Keep it quiet, kids. If that price point gets around, it's gonna put a lot of us out of business.

Meanwhile, the Post, owning a story that should be rightfully theirs, breaks the news (and aerial views!) about the "the secluded $15 million Hamptons mansion that Christie Brinkley's horndog hubby used as a 'love shack' to get down and dirty with a beautiful 19-year-old aspiring singer." Four acres, six bedrooms, 10,000 square feet? That's a lot of lovin'.

· Emotional Wipeout as Gal Betrays Surfer Dude [NYP]
· Affair Lair [NYP]
· Diana Bianchi: New Face of Arcitectural Temptation [The Gutter]

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Those dewey, doey eyes. Those fat, gloss-wet lips. That just-kickin'-it-in-study-hall Sharpie tattoo. As another Italian heartthrob, Rudy Giuliani, once said, it's more than we can bear. And, as the Post details today in brilliant overkill, it was so much more than shinglematic Hamptons traditionalist Peter Cook (obvs we know, alas) could keep his mitts off. Looks like he's facing a sexual harrassment suit in addition to whatever litigious hell-bolts might soon be hurled by expert three-time divorcee Christie Brinkley. Grooming, office groping, the coercive gift of a car. At least young Miss Bianchi, 19, is the step-daughter of a local cop. Can you hear the sigh of relief over at Murdoch HQ (not to mention elsewhere)?

· Peter Wooed Me & Bedded Me But I Was Just A Tool In His Sick Game [NYP]
· Breaking: Architect Gets Laid By Model, Assistant [The Gutter]

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Remember when the days started getting longer and the news queue started getting shorter and we posted a few empty posts, perhaps too subtle by half, suggesting it was going to be a slow summer? And then remember last Monday when we had a banner, red-letter day-of-days, deigned to share same with you, even, in our cups, then launched a truly impressive week-long debauche that was both much-needed and truly deserved? No, you couldn't remember that. We never told you. Still, it's amusing to see that so many of our Readers have mistaken the rising sun for a glorious dusk.

· The Gutter Salutes: The Glorious 10th of July! [The Gutter]

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Some people celebrate the Fourth. They are sheep. We prefer to celebrate this day, July 10. Not for its ample history (silent props to Meher Baba) or its gleesome associations for others (Happy Birthday Jessica!) but for its profound sense of possibility. For on no other day in the long and bloody history of The Gutter has freedom rung with quite the same happy clangor. So join us, if you will—and we do!—in setting aside things bilious and architectural. On 7.10, it's all good.

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Please, please, please, O generous gods and godlings, ineffable deitudes from whom all blessings everlastingly flow: let just this one thing be true. Let it be real. Let it get built and used and visited and filmed. Let it become enshrined in monographs. Let it be learned and taught. Let it become the shining center of our common architectural memory. Forever. Breaking! Heidi Fleiss is building America's first legal all-male brothel in Nevada. And she says she's hired Daniel Libeskind:

Her plans now include everything from a spa to peepshow rooms. To design those rooms, she told me, she had hired World Trade Center architect Daniel Libeskind, and they were in “preliminary phases.”

Savor the love for a moment before you read on to the big "but"...

Whatever those phases are, when I reached Libeskind’s office, no one there had any idea what I was talking about, nor, they said, had they been in contact with Fleiss.

No matter what Nina says, we're not giving up hope. Because it feels so right.

· The Heidi Chronicles [LA Weekly]

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...Some rich person's a-lovering? Oh, in our current soul-purging malaise we can do no justice—none at all—to the beauty we see before us. More brilliant machines—this one not at the expense of architects, but rather the result of one's genius. The mellifluously-named Dutch architect Janjaap Ruijssenaars has developed a mag-lev bed, and it's yours for only a million point five or so. Genius! But, as one commenter at the source site has already pointed out, "this is Wolverine's deathbed." No justice.

· Million Dollar Bed Floats on Magnets [Engadget]

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It's a lonely world, frenemies ours, and The Guttersniper is not immune. Indeed, there is an absence-brought sadness that no nationalist surge nor inspired pyromania can allay. Grieve with us. For a few seconds. Then marvel at the wonders of our world. Which are amazingly, abundantly, and unceasingly wonderful! Why, just now we've received, courtesy of a Reader with exceptional tastes and talents, a link to a wonderfully diverting Internet tool. Hie thee, one and all—o sweet happenstance!—to the Bile Machine.

Our Reader did, and he made some strangely wondrous discoveries:

Ch'ch'check it out...

LMDC = Limp Meatheads, Define Crapulence

AIA = Asinine, Inanimate Asses

Truly minutes and minutes of fun.

Yours, Etc. (or is that Yours, Excitable, Troglodytic Crackhead...)

You'll want to follow the link below to see the true and secret meanings of FXFowle, SOM, KPF, HOK, OMA, AMO, and, perhaps best of all, DS&R.

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Rejoice again! It has been far too long since we've been able to bring you news—real, architectural news—from the Brad Pitt front. Who cares about his androgenously-named love child when we have this: a full-on cavalcade of gloss! An alert Archinect forumer points us to this post that refs (and scans!!!!) an article from hard-to-find-online Elle Decoration. Ain't blogging grand!

· Brad Pitt's Hollywood Hills Home [J2]
· Brad Pitt, Architect [Archinect]

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What do we call it when a venerable and wealthy bathroom fixtures company sponsors a traveling art show about "eating, drinking, and excreting" and it gets picked up by MoMA's little sister? They call it "radical, provocative, and, dare we say, even scandalous." We call it [REDACTED]. Crash the opening: Sunday, June 25, 1:00 at P.S.1. Oh yeah, while we're in Queens: the Young Architects Program is in a time warp. And the Blotter's standing by....

· Into Me/Out of Me [PS1]

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