Look, I'm sorry, but this story comes from the pages of yesterday's Mail On Sunday and, while I'm not recommending you read that godawful shit rag with all its anti-immigrant, misogynist tripe, this tale does involve HM's favourite whipping boy du jour, Johnny "knobend" Borrell, so I could hardly let it pass.
It seems his snaggle-toothed sometime girlfriend, Kirsten Dunst, has finally seen the light and given Borrell the boot, kicking him out of her Islington house.
But why? Surely they were the golden couple? Serious indie rock saviour of the planet and Hollywood pin-up (or self-important tosser and drug hammering hypocrite - take your pick).
Well, Dunst couldn't take any more of Borrell's scruffy, untidy and grubby habits. Americans are like that. Cleanfreaks. But the straw that broke the camel's back was Borrell's habit of driving his scooter around her living room, which is not a euphemism. What a complete twat.
Johnny, don't go changing. Laughing at what a cunt you've become makes everyone feel better about themselves.