· If you're into, you know, wearing clothes and stuff, you can get a jump on next week’s Fashion Week festivities at the Threadless fashion show at the Vanguard on Hollywood Boulevard. It's $8 to get in, but you get some kind of gift bag and the priceless opportunity to see designs by Samaire Armstrong, former The OC cast member and current Lohan co-worker.
· Writer/director Cory McAbee hosts a screening of his The American Astronaut at the Arclight. Afterwards, Andy Dick will moderate a Q & A, during which we expect all hell to break loose.
· It's the second Thursday of the month, and you know what that means: The sun will be shining, people will pay scant attention to their driving as they chat on their cellphones, and agents will duck the calls of their upset clients. Also:
the Downtown Art Walk is going on.
· Joseph Arthur, whose new CD we've recently purchased and enjoyed with an alacrity usually reserved for drinking cheap beer, plays the Troubadour.

Yesterday, we briefly noted a report that Paradise Hotel, the beloved reality show in which "contestants" were locked away in a luxury resort with nothing to do but drown themselves in margaritas, screw, and tear out their hair at the capriciously-shifting rules concocted by sadistic producers, might be returning to Fox this summer with its original cast. Unfortunately, an operative has informed us that the show will not be back, a decision reached deep within Fox's evil reality TV incubator yesterday. We are profoundly sad that the television landscape will continue to languish in its postlapsarian state. Excuse us while we wander in the desert of reality programming, scurrying to find some berries with which to cover our genitals— we've just realized they're shamefully exposed.

Once again, the incredible volume of your responses has completely overwhelmed our inbox, so it's time to end the game and post your guesses. Quickly, run naked down the halls of One Adorable Blind Vice:

In case you were worried that Michael Jackson was going to have his $3 million bail revoked and get tossed in the clink, he finally showed up to court minutes after his arrest grace-period expired (with an appropriately dramatic, hobbling entrance), and the trial resumed. Pictured: An umbrella protects a pajama-clad Jackson from the sun's harsh rays, which would have cooked the infirm, Crisco-basted pop-star like a turkey.

· Even with their corporate masters cracking the whip and demanding more, more, more, the Sideways-boosted Fox Searchlight will make fewer movies this year. [Variety]
· MPAA Head Pirate Hunter in Charge Dan Glickman tours the "crime-ridden black market-areas" of Mexico City in an effort to crack down on piracy south of the border. Luckily, there have been no reports of Glickman firing pistols at poverty-stricken sidewalk vendors selling unauthorized DVD copies from dirty blankets. Yet. [THR]
· Fox Animation gets the rights to Dr. Seuss's Horton Hears a Who, which much to the chagrin of the Geisel estate, will promptly be retitled Rupert Hears a Who. Hey, that's what happens when you deal with Hollywood. [Variety]
· Hey, did you hear the one about pilot season? Ellen Burstyn, Alan Ruck, John Francis Daley join pilot casts. [THR]
· "Thanks to a vote Wednesday on Capitol Hill, Hollywood is one small step closer to seeing the camcording of a film declared a federal crime." Whether the crime should be punished by firing squad or by mere genital mutilation is yet to be determined, however. [Variety]

At a NY screening for Fox's new animated movie, actor Stanley Tucci points out the Ewan McGregor-voiced robot's distressing lack of junk.
NY Social Diary]

Wherein we invite our readers to pour themselves a pint of the fermented prose of humpy E! gossip brewmeister Ted Casablanca and chug the fine, handcrafted ale that is his weekly blind item. This week, Casablanca abandons the hot, gay sex that's a staple of the item and replaces it with hot, gay hand-holding. Oh yeah, the hand-holder in question is supposedly a straight dude, but you knew that already, didn't you? Pinch the cheeks of One Adorable Blind Vice:

Sounds pretty sensational, doesn't it? But this is exactly why you have to click through to the actual story, not just read Drudge's headline, stare at his hypnotic siren, and succumb to the impulse to leap from your desk chair while making WOO WOO WOO noises.

The LAT takes a look at the Vine Street Lounge, the latest nightlife addition to the part of "downtown Hollywood" that was once infested with hookers, stripper clothing outlets, and the homeless, and which now is overrun with stripper clothing outlets, Scientology-owned real estate, and celebrity-baiting clubs.

Lindsay Lohan is now taking her daddy issues public. From Page Six:

· "A quadriplegic attorney settled his lawsuit against producers of NBC's "The Apprentice" after they agreed to make clear the program accepts applications from the disabled." Well, they do if they display absolutely no business acumen and their tits look great in a sweater.
· But if he paints like J. Lo sings, how could you tell where the ass is? Marc Anthony does an rear-view nude portrait of his wife.
· Gawker breaks down the NY gossip rag dick-measuring contest that's raging across the pages of the Daily News and the Post.
· "Touch My Balls and My Ass": The Remix
· The best news ever: Drunk Asshole Hotel (© Heather Havrilesky) may return—with its original drunk asshole cast! Huzzah!

· Ex Talking Head and current pointy head David Byrne tries to put Microsoft's software to its first non-evil use with I Heart PowerPoint, his presentation of his 2003 book project, Envisioning Emotional Epistemological Information at the Hammer Museum tonight.
· At last, the perfect fusion of short attention spans and laughter: The Egyptian hosts comedy shorts, including Gay Pimp Daddy - Looking Cute and F***ing Hollywood
· Phyllis Diller signs Like a Lampshade in a Whorehouse: My Life in Comedy at the Barnes and Noble in the Westside Pavilion. Please, God, let Phyllis Diller still be alive.
· Robyn Hitchcock is at Largo. If you're unsure of who he is, don't even think of attending. You'll be beaten to death with vinyl by true fans.

All hail Official Defamer Cocksmith Benicio Del Toro, who when confronted with a well-circulated rumor that he had sex with a certain starlet in the elevator of the Chateau Marmont, responded thusly:

A reader risks grievous bodily harm by sharing her experiences behind the gray door of Club 33, Disneyland's shadowy inner sanctum, where the rich and powerful drink the blood of the gods and bring Beelzebub's infernal reign ever closer:

Perhaps if Parker Lewis had been a little more humble about his prospects of defeat, he wouldn't find himself in such an awful predicament.

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com and let the world know that Val Kilmer chews with his mouth open.

· Executives flee as soon-to-be Weinstein-free Miramax like rats from a sinking ship. Or if you like a somewhat less dated analogy, fleeing like an assistant being beaten by Harvey Weinstein brandishing a rolled up copy of Talk magazine. [Variety]
· We've already linked to Variety's coverage of WGASignatureGate, so here's a link to THR's reports. [THR]
· Dan Rather will step away from the smouldering splinters of his CBS News anchor's desk tonight, but if you're getting this information from the trades, we recommend that you leave the production office once in a while.[Variety]
· Aisha Tyler, Loni Anderson, Scott Foley, Jonathan Schaech, Sarah Wynter, and Christine Taylor...you know what we're going to say re: pilot season. Don't make us do it. [THR]
· Keanu Reeves is set to bring his peculiar brand of confused-looking, monosyllabic star power to bear in Columbia's epic The 8th Voyage of Sinbad. We hope he wears a fez and some baggy pants! [Variety]

In case you haven't noticed, we'd been experiencing some technical difficulties with our server, that magic little box that brings Defamer into your cubicle a dozen or more times a day. Things have been resolved (we think), and we assure you, our computers were not seized by Fred Durst's lawyers. We're pals now!

NBC's Apprentice of boxing, The Contender, finally debuted Monday night, and producer Mark Burnett probably wishes he'd gone with his first idea: having Donald Trump put on some shorts that go up to his waist so that henchwoman Carolyn could pummel him for an hour every week. You can almost feel the spit-spray as the mouthguard flying out of this flack's maw as he's forced to defend the show's weak debut ratings:

Disney.com's whistle-blowing Disney Insider throws back the curtain on the park's ultra-secret Club 33, a location so shrouded in mystery that the mere mention of the place by a non-member carries the harshest of Magic Kingdom reprisals, the public chewing off of the genitals by Pluto at a Character Brunch. But how does one gain entry to this inner sanctum, which, incidentally, is the only place in the park that serves booze?