So, we’re starting to feel a wee bit sorry for that dodgy Pete Doherty, for his new digs are within North London trailer park:

Pete’s new crash pad was unearthed by the surveillance of Holy Moly with a wisecracking follow-up:

Pete Doherty: Officially Making Drugs Look Even Less Cool Than When That Fat Twat From Keane Pretended He Had A Coke Addiction But Really Went To A Fat Camp For A Few Weeks.

This story has reached a rather admirable level of ridiculousness, but as Celebitchy often states, we’re not above repeating the sordid details. Most reports seem to agree that Kate and Pete fought over whether he should return to rehab, which is a fight that ended with Pete either shooting smack with or kissing a chick named “Lindy.” A few days later, a judge ordered him back to rehab, which would have made the fight a moot point if Pete would have just sequestered himself within the attic and strummed on his guitar rather than boozing with pals and getting photographed sitting next to “Lindy.” Then again, he’s a fucking idiot, but we admit to false hopes when he actually showed up for something last week.

The contradictory reports are voluminous. After the breakup, Kate flew to Paris, where she was scheduled to appear in a fashion show, but this mainstream source would have us believe Kate flew to Paris on a whim in hopes that Pete would follow (and presumably, propose at the top of the Eiffel Tower), but since he did not, the couple hasn’t spoken since. Meanwhile, another mainstream source is reporting that Pete was dumped by Kate, who won’t stop calling and begging him to take her back. According to this version, Pete explains the hell of dating a supermodel: “It’s like living with a fucking stalker.”

Oh, yes. Right.

The photographs tell a different story. You see, Kate has told Pete to get of her luxurious life and has even gone so far to put a new lock on her home. Pete is understandably inconsolable after he attempted to reconcile in full view of the paparazzi by bringing a crack-laden olive branch to her Primrose Hill mansion:

On Sunday Pete arrived at the house they share with a peace offering a framed picture of what looked like a scribbled image of Kate and their cat with the poignant message:

“No place like home.”

Pete screamed from the street: “Kate, please let me in.” [sic] But his calls fell on deaf ears and he smashed the picture on the ground before driving off.

An onlooker said: “Pete was banging on the door. After about ten minutes he threw the picture down and it shattered. As he drove off he hung out of the window with a crazed look in his eyes and shouted abuse.”

The UK Mirror has actual photos of moving vans being loaded with Pete’s guitars, suitcases, and blood paintings. This source also makes the ridiculous statement that Pete will be dividing his time between the trailer park mentioned above and an East London flat. For variety’s sake, we suppose.

One bloody amusing aspect of this story follows a certain parody story from The Spoof:

Reporters counted six acoustic guitars, an accordion, ten bongs, two heavily-laden tea chests labelled ‘herbal remedies’, two black sacks brimming with Rizla packets and chillum filters, an early Banksy mural stolen from a municipal site under Waterloo Bridge, an upright piano, five Alsatian dogs, hundreds of pairs of Armani jeans, two dozen pot plants in various stages of growth and a self-portrait in oils.

A large skip parked outside the house was also filled with an assortment of what looked like trashed lovers’ gifts and personal grooming items.

“Kate is now having the place fumigated,” a source told reporters after the vans drove off to Doherty’s home in Dalston.

This fake story has been lifted as fact by several (unfortunate) news outlets and duly reported as fact here, there, and over yonder. Nice work, mates.

In short, Moss and Doherty broke up, but from there, who knows? They could very well be wearing their skinny jeans and lounging on the sun-drenched beaches of Ibiza.