In a gratifying example of genuinely fun sleb coverage, we learn today that Kate Moss is "the Don Corleone of Primrose Hill", having banished Sienna Miller to LA after her horrid split with Worzel Gummidge. A curiously anonymous insider claims “After seeing Worzel in a state, she suggested Sienna got out of London until the whole break-up has blown over. Kate is The Godfather. If you don’t do as she says you are cut off by the family.”

The tyranny of the Topshop-promoting one inspires a raft of giddy Godfather punnage from The Sun. It’s all about how “Sienna [is] avoiding sleeping with the Gucci-clad fishes,” and how Moss’ daughter, Lila, is "showing her respect" by wearing an "I heart Kate Moss" t-shirt. The best bit comes later, though, when they claim Kate “popped into a pub where she chopped someone’s hands off for disrespecting ‘the family'". Sadly this is revealed immediately to be an amusing joke, as she actually just went to Hamleys to buy some toys. Booooring.

Naturally, one does not actually care if any of this is true or not. Because it is much more interesting to surmise what it all means. Apart from anything else, it is Friday, and that is when we are officially allowed to indulge in some Heat-style deconstruction/post pictures of kittens. From the top, then:

1) Sienna Miller went out with Worzel Gummidge after Jude Law slept with the nanny. Why? Because there are only three men in the whole of Primrose Hill. You can have Ganglypants from Supergrass, the unkempt Welsh one or an faceless hunk who knows more guitar chords than he does actual words. It is like the game Marry/Shag/Push off a Cliff, except you would have to call it Push/Push/Push. NB: You are not allowed to go out with anyone until you have passed a vetting test helmed by The Mossfather and Sadie Frost. Questions include: "Which is the bloody nicest bloody nice pub in Primrose Hill?", ‘"Are your tea-towels from Cath Kidson or Heals?" and "Do you know anywhere good we can go on Friday? It is WELL BORING HERE."

2) Primrose Hill. Quite possibly the most unlively place in all of London. The most interesting thing about Primrose Hill is that there is a very nice Greek restaurant. It is a veritable fun and modernity vacuum. This, in turn, elevates the interestingness factor of anyone even vaguely notable who is willing to spend 3 million to live there. See: Davinia Taylor. Off HOLLYOAKS. Indeed, EX-HOLLYOAKS.

3) Wife Swapping. See boredom, above. Whilst the "set" like to think of themselves as some sort of bacchanalian centre of the universe, in fact, key parties only ever seem like "a good idea" when you are bored out of your tiny mind from browsing through bathroom fixtures shops, where chrome bidet controls cost the equivalent of a bedsit in Hampstead.

4) That is enough, I think. Have a lovely weekend.