Friday
· If your idea of Fashion Week involves the boys wearing more make-up than the girls, Heatherette is putting on a fashion show at ATOMIC on Santa Monica Blvd. Be there are be squarely unfabulous.
· Shag with a Twist opens at the Los Angeles Theatre Center in Downtown LA, and from what we can tell by clicking around the website (besides that all sites that insist on playing music should have "off" buttons), it's a musical murder mystery set at a Tupperware party. Or something. Sounds interesting, though.
Saturday
· The American Cinema Foundation and the L.A. Press Club present "Mass Market, Smart Content," a panel discussion "about how some successful writers manage to keep their distinct viewpoints even while writing for the mass market medium of TV." Paul Feig ("Freaks & Geeks" "Arrested Development"), Scott Kaufer ("Gilmore Girls”), Rob Long (“Cheers"), and Tim Minear (“Angel") head up the panel at the American Film Institute in Los Feliz.
· Graham Coxon (formerly of Blur) and the 22-20's play the Troubadour, but you're going to need to find a generous soul on Craiglist, a scalper, or some compromised morals to get in.
Sunday
· The Aero Theatre has a double feature of director Peter Medak’s movies. First up is Negatives, which "follows the antics of a middle class young couple and the strange role-playing games they resort to make their boring, marginal lives bearable." The second part of the bill is Romeo is Bleeding, with Medak popping in for a discussion between films.
· The Unhappy Hour and Literati Cocktail Urban Lit Lounge present local writers Brendan Constantine, Teka-Lark, Elizabeth lannaci doing the spoken word thing at the Parlour Club. Check it out and see if it suddenly devolves into a very literate game of The Dozens.

In yet another installment of fascinating quotes from the New Yorker profile of "unorthodox" William Morris president Dave Wirtschafter, an anonymous agent shifts seamlessly from deluded warrior-invoking braggadocio to the darkest depths of existential angst:

Now that high definition TV sets will soon be in everyone's living rooms, Hollywood beauty squads are going to have to redouble their efforts to hide celebrites' flaws, or else the public will be treated to every pockmark, pimple, and stray unibrow hair. OnHD.TV lists the actors who are going to suffer the most once the changeover occurs:

Join us in the dispersal of props for this week's sponsors, who would likely bail us out of a Tijuana jail should the need arise...again. If you'd like to advertise on our Hollywood-centric weblog concern and reach the kind of people who drip with lust at the mere mention of your product or service, see this page.

Enjoy our gleefully inaccurate box office swami routine.

We're only vaguely aware of the Fashion Week activities that are raging all around town, though it seems that there's been a slight increase in the number of distressingly thin women in fancy clothes at the local Starbucks. A reader picks up the slack with this unimpressed report from last night's party for the opening of a new Marc Jacobs presence on Melrose Place.

· News to bore you to incontinence: Four longform and three music/comedy/variety categories are demoted to the fake, unbroadcasted Emmys. [Variety]
· NBC concedes the ratings ass-whupping that's been the current TV season, as freshly-beaten president Kevin Reilly confesses, "Trust me, I'm acutely aware we need the next generation of hits," before promising advertisers that September will be better. [THR]
· Kevin Reilly Day continues! The network may release its Poseiden Adventure TV movie before Warner Bros. can unleash Wolfgang Petersen's big-budget version in movie theaters next summer, hoping that their all-star lineup (we're not making this up) of Rutger Hauer, Peter Weller, and—get ready for it—Steve! Fucking! Guttenberg! will steal some of the "real" movie's thunder. [Variety]
· Assemble your own joke from these spare parts we found laying around in the trades: Tara Reid, Las Vegas, wedding chapel, Fox pilot. [THR]
· HBO picks up fourth season of The Wire, a show that everyone insists is brilliant but which we've never seen. Who has time to watch something that's actually good when gay-seeming singers are quitting America Idol every week? [Variety]

With his network wandering aimlessly in the Nielsen desert of the post-Friends era, NBC Entertainment bad idea technician Kevin Reilly calls upon on the Messiah to save his ass:

The event-stalking folks at Open All Night celebrate the genius of the ShoWest prankster that put Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, and Jennifer Aniston at the convention on the same day:

William Morris is bleeding clients like a hemophiliac 17th century French monarch at a paper-cut convention. Early in the week, Sarah Michelle Gellar dropped the agency over the New Yorker profile of "unorthodox" WMA president Dave Wirtschafter, and yesterday, Halle Berry punted them curbward. According to Variety, Berry didn't love Wirtschafter's disclosure about some of her movie deals in the article, like this one for Perfect Stranger:

When Robert Blake admitted that he's broke and needs a job so that he can nattily outfit his hummingbirds (after some some restorative "cowboying" time, naturally), casting agents were listening:

· We knew in our heart of hearts that if someone looked hard enough, they could find a Bible passage foretelling this Michael Jackson situation.
· Model falls down and goes boom, other models and hosts stand around and shriek. Go ahead and watch, you ghouls.
· Look at my striped shirt!
· Tara Reid finally takes her publicist out in public. This explains so much.
· A brilliantly back-handed compliment from "that other late night host" Craig Ferguson: "Jay will sell a joke that he knows is crap better than anyone I've ever seen."
· Do you think that Clay Aiken is thinking about Mario Vazquez? [right side of page, in the middle]
· You hate to say a dude looks like a celebrity baby kidnapper, but...

We apologize if we're indulging in a stereotypical view of the St. Patrick's holiday, and we know there's more to it than drinking to excess. But as hard as we tried, we could not find a single event in which we can all get together and drive the snakes out of the city. Now if you really need instructions on how to get shitfaced, welcome to our very brief guide to alcoholism's amateur hour, March the 17th:
· Line up in front of Tom Bergin's on Fairfax, where people have just gained consciousness after last year's holiday bender and rejoined the massive queue outside. After an hour of so of serious drinking, you'll start to think that each one of the shamrocks taped to the ceiling bears the name of your least-favorite ex.
· The Knitting Factory's Shamrock Rock features some DJs, live music, and the obligatory "Shamrocky drink specials."
· If Tom Bergin's doesn't satisfy all of your "Irish bar on Fairfax needs," there's also Molly Malone's, which should service you in a much smaller space. And take it from us, it's practically impossible NOT to hook up when crushed up against a development assistant in a green top hat!
· For homebodies, there's an all-new episode of The OC on tonight. But this is no time to slack off from your drinking reponsibilities: Every time you find yourself wistfully remembering a similar, but better, moment from the first season, drink half of your Guinness.

Hey, why aren't you all out getting drunk on green beer and car bombs? Oh, that's right, you're still at work, for Hollywood stops for no holiday without the threat of a Teamster riot. At least Fox lot is trying to keep thing festive on the studio lot:

Pint-sized The Ring Two star David Dorfman mistakes this wax figure for Jesus, then prays with all of his might that he not grow up to be as creepy as Haley Joel Osment.

Enjoy today's meditation from the New Yorker profile of "unorthodox" William Morris president Dave Wirtschafter:

Thanks to everyone who played the guessing game. Only three of you failed to follow the new directions. You know who you are. And if you don't, when Andy Dick shows up on your doorstep wearing nothing but Redi-Whip pasties, then you'll get the idea. Double check that you filled in all of the bubbles for One Secret Suck-Face Blind Vice:

Tom Cruise has to be the most generous person to ever touch an e-meter, clear a body thetan, or lose his breath after reading the prose of Dianetics. Not content to share the wonders of Scientology with his crew on War of the Worlds (as interpreted through the fingertips of model-quality masseuses), Cruise just keeps on giving. This time, it's entertainment journalists that have experienced his Hubbardy largesse:

· The trades look at Viacom's potential bifurcation. Enthralling! [Variety, THR]
· The ankle bracelet's still warm, and already CBS is trying to throw together a Martha Stewart biopic. Naturally, they want Cybill Shepherd to reprise her role from Martha, Inc.; she's already doing research on how to sharpen spoons and shiv a hack. [Variety]
· Jennifer Aniston will star with Vince Vaughn in super-secret romantic comedy (you know, only like a thousand people in town know what it's about) The Break-Up. Let the Aniston-Vaughn porking rumors begin! [THR]
· We absolutely refuse to read an article with this headline: "Sprechen sie Soderbergh?" Knock yourself out, though. [Variety]
· Pilot casting is now making that sucking sound that you get when you get to the bottom of a Big Gulp, as we've never heard of anyone of these people with pilot jobs: AJ Calloway, Nicholas Brendon, Jodi Lyn O'Keefe, and Michael O'Neill. [THR]

[Note: there are some different instructions this week. Make sure you read before e-mailing your guesses.] Wherein we invite our readers to try and fire the arrows of their guesses at the exposed ankle of humpy E! gossip warrior-demigod Ted Casablanca's weekly blind item, which he's rendered nearly invulnerable through a dip in the Styx of linguistic obscurity. Take a stab at One Secret Suck-Face Blind Vice: