IN TOUCH
Cover: Kanye's Kooky Kollapse has his tour's insurance company balking at paying the $10 million. The insurer says drug use is to blame, suggesting an obvious question: what do you define as Kanye's normal behaviour? Does meeting Trump qualify? Oh, and Keeping Up with the Kardashians apparently has 20 hours of footage of Yeezy during his breakdown and, with all due sympathy, that'd be better viewing than any sex tape in the whole family's oeuvre.
The runaround: In an otherwise-tedious story about O.J. Simpson's legal wranglings, it's suggested that he's hiding income, with one lawyer noting Simpson "has done speaking engagements and appearances and signings for cash." Wait, someone is still paying O.J. for speaking gigs? I admit, that would be one hell of a TED talk. Or just a cameo if VH1 revives Remember the '90s.
LIFE & STYLE
Cover: As OK! did last year with the same nonsense story, the goal here is to write a story about abdication without exposing tabloid readers to that dread, unfamiliar, four-syllable word. This mag says the Queen will quit, skip Charles and just pass the crown to William, handing it down like it were no more than a tube top she'd outgrown. Legal and constitutional issues aside, have you not heard the woman drinks four cocktails a day? If you land a job that lets you do that, you stick around.
Divine and decadent: Justin Bieber is newly devoted to church and remains equally devoted to nightclubbing and letting strange women grind on him. Hey, he's listening to a priest, not becoming one.
OK!
Cover: Solo mom Angelina Jolie eats nothing but cereal, enforces no bedtimes and is basically crowd-surfing into the loony bin on top of kids Vox, Opequon, Utah, Crux, McQueen and problem child Snorlax.
Popping apart: If you're getting more phone calls these days from Karlie Kloss, here's why: Taylor Swift has disbanded her carefully curated "squad" of friends. I imagine it was like the end of Harry and the Hendersons, with Tay-Tay shooing off Gigi Hadid and the Haim girls until they start taking long leggy strides deep into the woods. I'm not crying, you're crying.
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