A WEEK really is a long time in showbiz, it seems.

Having been away since last Wednesday sampling the cultural delights of the Edinburgh Festival, I have been mercifully cut off from newspaper, radio and even the internet.

So imagine my shock when, upon my return, I discovered that the world has seemingly been turned upside down.

Yes, John Mayer and Jennifer Aniston, who as far as I was concerned were ready to tie the knot and start popping out sprogs, have split up.

Kate Hudson is once again chasing after former beau Owen Wilson. Third time lucky? I doubt it, remember what happened after their last break up?

And Madonna is sulking because Stella McCartney and Gwyneth Paltrow didn’t turn up to her birthday party. it’s like primary school all over again.

But at least I managed to miss the story breaking of pointless celebrity Peaches Geldof marrying some “rock star” I’ve never heard of.

Apparently Dad Geldof wasn’t too happy, although if he’d wanted his children to toe the line and behave like civilised youngsters he probably shouldn’t have given them such ridiculous names.

Already the rumours are flying that Peaches only wed for the visa, because she wants to escape Saint Bob’s clutches and live in LA, where she can “walk down the street in peace”.

One suspects that for a peaceful life the “television presenter” (has anyone ever seen her on anything?) probably shouldn’t hang out at celeb haunts, and then run down the street screaming about the paparazzi chasing her... when they’re not.

At least Sienna Miller hasn’t turned into a saint with a single-handed mission to save the giant panda over the weekend.

She’d probably only run off with the most eligible boar (that’s the proper name for a male panda, fact fans), anyway.

Plus ca change, as they say.