Where were you at 2.30pm EST on Sunday 24 January, when the news that Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt might have broken up hit the internet? I was on Twitter, where life for millions seemed to fall apart at that very minute.

RIP Brangelina

The first hint I got of it was when Jorge Moralez, who is a complete stranger to me and possibly not even a real person, echoed my own thoughts when he tweeted: ‘WHY DOES ANGELINA JOLIE IS A TRENDING TOPIC??’ Sharing his stuttery bewilderment, I did some research of my own and discovered that the reason Jolie does/is a trending topic was because she had maybe, possibly, broken up with Brad Pitt.

Within moments, anyone who was online for those ten minutes and on the look-out for something distracting to get themselves swept up in—an understandable desire really, seeing as they were cooped up at home and working on a weekend—started questioning themselves and each other.

But the questions that were being asked, at least on the Twitter trending topics for both #Angelina Jolie and #Brad Pitt, were not so much: Is The News of the World a reliable source, but more: OMG, is this really happening?!

Or, more interactively, they went along the lines of this absolutely ridiculously-phrased question on a New York Daily News poll:

Q. Are you upset about Brangelina potentially breaking up?

1. Yes, I really thought they would make it!
2. No, stars break up all the time.
3. I don't know and I don't care.

Now, I know better than to trust the internet for anything, except of course for the monthly horoscope at astrologyzone.com, but in a moment of hazy confusion where it became terrifyingly clear to me that everything in my life had turned topsy-turvy, I went and looked at Perez Hilton's Twitter in the hope of getting some reliable information. No-one felt good about this: he seemed cranky and irritable to even have to deny the alleged Brangelina break-up, and I hated myself for giving Perez Hilton even a mere second of my life. So I left the computer and tried to get on with my life.

RIP Johnny Depp

At 8.30pm, I was back in the office, trying to translate my disappointed thoughts about the movie Nine into words instead of the spluttering, hyperventilating scoffs of disbelief I had been trying to stifle throughout the viewing, when I saw that one of the trending topics had now become: ‘RIP Johnny Depp’. This time it was ‘@Sincerious’ who echoed my feelings to a tee: 'WTF 2010 sux... R.I.P Johnny depp'.

As the real-time results for ‘#RIP Johnny Depp’ kept piling up like some sort of grim body count—‘1,250 more tweets since you started searching’, ‘2,000 more tweets since you started searching’—I quickly discovered that Crispin Glover, that actor-turned-paragon-of-journalistic-integrity, had swiftly quashed the rumour—which was a repeat of an old 2004 rumour anyway—by simply phoning Depp himself, who had apparently replied: 'Not dead, in France,' which I sincerely hope is the answer we can all give to Crispin Glover if he ever calls us for news of our alleged death.

But what then of the Jolie-Pitt break-up rumours? I decided to go with 'true', just so I had something to talk to my mum about at dinner.

So I mentioned to her that apparently Brangelina had broken up, and she instantly entered into an unexpected and sad, broody state of subdued silence, until, at last, in a brave attempt at conversation, she took a deep breath and tried to change the traumatic subject by asking with a tired smile how Nine was then.

RIP Nine

I explained that I had found the movie a terrible and unsettling experience; that the actors had nothing whatsoever to work with, that the concept was clearly doomed from the start, and that whoever had decided it was a good idea to turn this musical into a film was a fool. She gazed out at a spot in the distance:

‘That’s really so, so sad.’

I said that yes, it was harrowing actually! But there was at least one ray of light in the form of Marion Cotillard, who shone in both her numbers and brought substance and beauty to a film that otherwise stank like a steaming pile of faeces. Mum poured herself another glass of Sauvignon Blanc and sighed:

‘You know, I feel really, really upset about this.’

I know! I cried. Me too! And more shocking than anything was Fergie's crimped hair, which was so bad that it put me off becoming an Italian prostitute forever. Mum suddenly turned to look at me.

‘Oh, darling, I’m sorry, I haven't been listening to a word you've said. I just can't get over the fact that Angelina and Brad have broken up.'

So whether the break-up is true or not true (apparently it's not) please understand that repeating Twitter rumours hurts people, real people, so let's all please try to confirm our facts and our sources before retweeting anything from here on in. For my mum's sake at least.