Ohhhkay. So what, a few weeks ago, Matthew Broderick is telling me about the joys of taking the whole summer off to spend it with his wife and the kid (now five-and-a-half!) and the idyllic Amagansett scene of "these little girls were blowing up balloons that you attach a little engine to and they go up in the air" and how lovely everything is. And MEANWHILE, says Star magazine, he is chasing around some "gorgeous redhead" and crawling out of her friend's bedroom and, in the necessary tabloid coinage, having "sex in the city." (ARGH KILL.) So a couple of things!

One, this story: there is nothing less titillating than the cheatings of a middle-aged man. We're used to it. We've all slept with married men. We know what it's about. Yargh. Two, if this story is not at all true, it is CURTAINS for Star magazine. No libel insurance in the world will help them then. Three! Huh, the sourcing of this story. Is it: One "gorgeous redhead"? Or: one employee of PMK, who represents Broderick. (Or! One employee of ID PR, who represents his wife Sarah Jessica Parker?) Your call! Good gravy, IS EVERYONE LYING ABOUT EVERYTHING all the time? Why do we even talk to people any more? Why don't we just live in caves and fuck whoever we want and eat raw animals?