One Most Surprising, Stockinged Blind Vice

With all the highly publicized breakups between our fave A-list duos, it was only a matter of time till haughty legal reps dished on a not-so tell-all couple un-ending. Does that even make any sense, what I wrote? Oh, who cares? Read on:

As we all wiped away our tears over the demise of Jen 'n' Brad, or that southern belle Reese 'n' toughie-dude Ryan, in-the-know peeps had already been questioning the supposed bliss in the marital lives of Sassy Go-Forth and Fernwood Could, one of H-town's few remaining stalwart duos. Wonder why? See, this once reliable, dynamic twosome has utterly gone under the paparazzi radar, and I, oh, once again, have the exclusive dish for ya to feast on this holiday season. Don't worry—it's carb free. So, bite in!

Ferny 'n' Sass, in actuality (read: when they're not working) hold down camp in the colder climates. Think of places like Chicago and InWhySee, where basements are readily available to sprawling mansions. In fact, it is in this very sublevel arena where the male half of this union's marital vows went awry. See, unsuspecting wife-unit would wake up to discover her man outta bed and nowhere to be found in their plush quarters. This began to happen so often, said spouse thought her hubby just might be leavin' the manse to engage in extramarital affairs; howevah, 'twas not the case. Sassy's guy, was found (by her, eventually) dressin' in drag in the basement—where their offspring efforts hold down playtime with other celeb li'l ones. Quelle horreur!

And was Ferny-babe getting himself off while wearing a particularly alluring fishnet number? No way: F.C. was caught red-(nail-polished)-handed, surfin' the friggin' Internet for home apparel and sundry women's wear. While dressed in such, natch. Prior to this startling discovery, S.G.-F. had hired a private investigator to see where her hubby was heading at night. Good thing she played investigator herself, 'cause she saved those dollars for a high-powered attorney—who has brought her the ultimate bucks and a handy settlement deal. But no one knows. 'Cept us.

It ain't:

My guess: Who cares, really? Yep...I'm in one of those moods (life is hard). If my husband wanted to dress in drag in the basement, I'd let him. No harm done, right? If I had Paris Hilton-sized feet we could even share shoes. I have fabulous shoes.