· Winning a record $370 million lottery emboldens Steven Colbert to finally tell semi-mummified Viacom overlord Sumner Redstone what he thinks of him. Unfortunately for Colbert, Redstone doesn't realize this was all done in character for his show, and has already dispatched a goon to stab him in the kidneys while the actor uses the urinal at his office.
· Yet another person is suing Mark Burnett for having the same unoriginal idea for a televised talent competition, this time involving Rock Star.
· This is what would happen if you ran Bill Maher through a computer aging simulation.
· Even Henry Kissinger is trying to get into Angelina Jolie's pants.
· It's a well known fact that Jesus Tortillas are the most delicious kind. [via Eater LA]
· We're number three! We're number three!

Last evening "Entertainment Tonight," which has owned the Anna Nicole Smith story (literally - they fucking bought it) brought us the touching footage of America's sweetheart being laid to rest. Every note was perfect: the slow procession to the grave, the release of the doves, and then this scene, where our faded rose's mother goes a little bit bonkers with the shovel. Tonight "E.T." takes us to the funeral after-party; we will for sure update you tomorrow.

• Jennifer Love Hewitt's Breasts are Perfect...for Selling Bras [Egotastic]

Us Weekly's Dina Sansing stopped by righty yakker Glenn Beck's program to discuss that gal from "American Idol" who has all those racy pictures floating around (hey, it's a living). Dina's apparently not used to the hard-hitting questions that Glenn puts to his attractive guests; what results is some of the most uncomfortable dead air we've seen in ages. At least O'Reilly would have the good grace to proposition the talent off-camera. [Update: And this clip has apparently added Glenn to Keith Olbermann's list of worst people in the world, a list to which, strangely, Olbermann still has not yet added himself.]

Kemble Scott — the pen name of onetime TV news director and now journalist-editor-author Scott James — is promoting his book, SoMa, by way of a series of Youtube videos. For a book supposedly chronicling the seedy side of San Francisco's South of Market neighborhood, the clips are disappointingly tame, and the subdued PBS style isn't helping. Where are the "crystal meth scenes vetted by real-life addicts to ensure accuracy"?

Thank God that John Travolta was on Ellen to let the world know what his upcoming Wild Hogs is really about; without the admirable honesty of this promotional appearance, potential ticket-buyers might have been fooled by conservative Disney's ad campaign marketing the film as just another slapsticky, City Slickers rip-off breeder-bonding comedy, but now they know that it's actually the story of four leather daddies' musical romp through the country's wildest S&M bars.

Var reports that the Academy has officially demanded the immediate removal of all unauthorized clips from Sunday night's Oscars telecast from the YouTubes, dealing a severe blow to modern-dance fans wishing to experience Pilobolus' kinetic, silhouetted interpretations of popular films over and over again. The purge has already claimed the racy footage of Clint Eastwood's wife's now-infamous crotch-swipe, and we suspect it won't be long before the joint YouTube/AMPAS copyright task force removes the historical record of our new favorite Oscar moment: when triumphant Best Foreign Language Film director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck taunts vanquished frontrunner Guillermo del Toro by wiping his hindquarters upon the back of the Pan's Labyrinth also-ran's head.

As part of our deeply-held belief that the wisdom of crowds is always more impressive than the analysis of experts, we sent The Assimilated Negro and Gawker videographer Richard Blakeley about town to solicit your opinions on Sunday's Academy Awards ceremony. These are your stories.

Over the weekend, friends of former Oddjack editor A.J. Daulerio gathered at popular internet-person bar Lolita to roast the young man. Despite having been canned when that Gawker Media gambling site was shuttered, Daulerio contributes to sports site Deadspin. He is perhaps best known as the superstud of the New York blogger scene, at least if you read the Observer. Sadly, he's taking his well-polished tool back to his native Philadelphia, AKA the sixth borough. (Snarf.) The clip you see above is but a brief tease for the full video (by Richard Blakeley, natch) that will appear on Deadspin at some point this afternoon. Until it does, enjoy A.J.'s heartfelt feelings concerning someone here at Gawker Media who is near and dear to all of us.

In case you had some still-unanswered questions about 1. David LaChapelle, 2. West Chelsea 3. Shafrazi or 4. Uses of M.A.C., this video from Saturday night ought to clear them right up. Courtesy Gawker videographer Richard Blakeley, of course.

Earlier: See Amanda Lepore's Chest Not Quiver!

An eagle-eyed reader directed us to return to the TiVo for a replay of Martin Scorsese's Best Director victory speech, during which an inopportune cut to audience reactions clearly spotlights the hand of Clint Eastwood's wife taking a couple of swipes at the Oscar-nominated helmer's crotch. Sure, she's probably just brushing some crumbs from his pants, but she just as easily could be patting Lil' Clint, doing her best to console her husband's suddenly withering manhood after a disappointing loss to an inferior Scorsese effort.

Our initial disappointment that this video didn't deliver its promised clip of Gwyneth Paltrow talking about the YouTubes at last night's Oscar ceremony quickly gave way to awe as we realized what we'd actually stumbled upon: Some cameraphone footage smuggled out of VF's legendary Morton's bash, in which a newly bald Jack Nicholson proves once and for all that he only shaved his head to play the part of a terminal cancer patient and not because of any mysterious malady of his own, demonstrating his incredible health by removing his shirt and jumping repeatedly into a hastily constructed bonfire. The audio's garbled to the point of incomprehensibility, but we could swear we hear him say, "Now bring me Reese Witherspoon. All that bouncing around's got me all revved up!" after his final tumble through the flames.

This Canadian news clip is old as the hills (circa 1993), but it's so perfectly charming that many still contend it's fake. I tend to think that it perfectly combines reportorial cluelessness with objective tediousness such that it must be real. Worth it for the "Internet enthusiast" who marvels at the "restraint" and that "there's not a lot of cursing or swearing" or "putdowns" or "screenfuls of 'go to hell.'" Marvel at the magic of "emoticons," plus perhaps the first recorded Internet misspelling of the "definitely." Then there's the suspicious British guy who says he loves the Internet since it allows him to indulge his "deep and abiding passion for all things Thai." I doubt he means sticky rice. Clip after the jump.

· She's right, you know: If you're looking for the number 24 everywhere, you're going to find it everywhere.
· All that is required for the triumph of neglectful-pop-star-parent-evil is that good nannies be silent.
· Banging Harvey Weinstein has absolutely nothing to do with Marchesa's Georgina Chapman getting her designs onto the bodies of Oscar nominees who may want to work with Weinstein in the future.
· If Chinese Theatre Spider-Man's Oscar picks weren't your thing, how about some by a creepy ventriloquist's dummy?
· And speaking of the Chinese Theatre characters, the Chewbacca headbutt comes right at about the two minute mark on this one.
· Katie Holmes: Vagina Warrior. We'll leave it up to you to figure out on your own what horrors might lurk at that link's destination.

• We joined the media bowling leagues because we can't even believe there is such a thing. We sang "Take the shitheads bowling! Take them bowling!" Then we kicked some ass. Suck it, Comedy Central!
  

Since five or six of you are not down at N.Y.U. right now, where a zoo has erupted around the demonstration planned by the college Republicans against illegal immigration, Gawker videographer Richard Blakeley went out to catch the scene. It's just like the 60's down there! Please enjoy the folk singing.

As a rule, the sequel is never quite as satisfying as the original, but this follow-up to the YouTubes sensation "Seven Minutes and Fifteen Mind-Blowing Seconds Of David Caruso One-Liners," spotlighting only the times the dialogue-devouring star supplements his patented delivery by shielding his eyes from both the punishing Miami sun and his own actorly brilliance, has its own charms: note that just before the one minute mark, we're treated to a sequence in which Caruso bolts from the frame after he's done his bit, as if anxious to remind the director, "Now that...is how you end a cold open," before heading off in dogged pursuit of another line to murder.

WARNING: The clip you about to watch is EXTREMELY disturbing. Novelist, Salon contributor and occasional Gawker commenter Cintra Wilson just made her video debut, reading her Dregulator, uh, column to a stunned and anxious nation. It's hard to take, but hard to look away. Cintra's like the new Amanda Congdon, as played by Cloris Leachman in Young Frankenstein. Cintra, honey, they have pills for this stuff now.