Sure, now everyone's "hot" (in the words of THR) to distribute Fahrenheit 9/11. Lions Gate and IFC are "hot" to get F911 into theaters on June 25th, and Showtime is "dripping wet" for the pay-TV rights. Harvey and Bob Weinstein, through their extra-Miramax entity Fellowship Adventure Group (which our demented pal at Gawker helpfully noted abbreviates to F.A.G., a transparent sup to the Gay Mafia) are "hard as a rock" to rake in the cash. Whither documentarian troublemaker Michael Moore? He's "drilling a hole in his Palm d'Or and fucking the fronds off."

Former LAT writer and THR editor Anita Busch is suing Hollywood private eye Anthony Pellicano for allegedly trying to intimidate her out of investigating stories in the entertainment industry. (LA Observed says they were scaring her off a hot Steven Seagal story. WTF?) The scare tactics included smashing her windshield and leaving a dead fish on it, and trying to run her over with a Mercedes. [Ed.note—Hope it was a convertible.] Just for the record, if Defamer one day gets under anyone's skin, we have a $500 deductible, so please smash all of the windows on our 1993 Reliant K. In lieu of the dead fish, we'd prefer a nice pan-seared ahi. Being intimidated is hungry business.

No sooner did the words "I quit" cross Viacom president Mel Karmazin's lips yesterday than shareholders practically defenestrated Disney CEO Michael Eisner from a window in Sleeping Beauty's castle. From all of the chatter, you'd think Mel was already running Disney. Do you ever wonder if Eisner wakes up, pauses in the middle of brushing his teeth with his Donald Duck electric toothbrush, and quietly sobs "Why me?" Yeah, so do we. But then we imagine his diamond-encrusted Mickey robot enters to administer his daily hundred-dollar bill enema, and the bluebirds start singing again.

Corey Anderson of American Idle has obtained the sonogram for Julia Roberts' twins, smuggled out of Cedars-Sinai "in a cardboard tube wedged in his rectum." Enjoy this amazing document of early celebrity-offspring life! (Click picture to see a larger version.)

The AP reports that NBC's upcoming, all-CGI Father of the Pride (based on the famous Siegfried & Roy white tigers) is suffering from "bad buzz" started at the recent upfront meetings with advertisers. At least part of the reason seems to be the creepy video that NBC Universal Television head/executive shrink-o-tron test subject Jeff Zucker presented at the meetings, which featured (in the words of a Defamer spy), a "surgically reconstructed" Roy Horn with the "angles on his face...all wrong," obviously not fully recovered from his tiger-mauling. Maybe Jeff should hold back the Maria Shriver interview with Franken-Roy that he was saving for the premiere until the wrap party.

Remember, a few, long hours ago, when we told you about the failed writer who's selling his script on eBay? Through the incredible power of Defamer, that script has sold to Paramount Pictures for a million dollars!

Alex Boese of Museum of Hoaxes weighs in with his guess as to supposedly A-list actor/pseudonymous blogger Rance's identity. [Ed. note—Museum of Hoaxes? Wonder where this is going...] Boese digs around in Rance's comments and follows the mysterious trail to...

Oh, we do love our cameraphone pics. A reader captures American Idol runner-up/showtune-belting Muppet Diana DiGarmo lunching at Souplantation. We always assumed they just executed the losers on an empty stomach, but it appears that the AI team gives them a reasonably-priced final meal as well. (Click the pic at left for the full-size version.)

Halle Berry admits to Teen Hollywood that the protein shakes she chugged to stay fit for Catwoman gave her a killer case of the um, how do we put this delicately? The farts. Some say that after you win an Oscar, your shit no longer stinks. Obviously, those morons have never sat through an ill-advised superhero movie. Berry's catsuit-rattling bumquakes are the best-smelling thing about the Catwoman buzz.

They're so much easier to hit while they're fumbling with the camera and making sure their fingers are properly framed. 100 bonus points if they're carrying a baby.

Warner Bros. is using SWAT tactics to prevent piracy of the new Harry Potter film, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. The studio is deploying night vision goggles to British theaters so that Harry doesn't wind up on street vendors' tables or in the file-sharing network. Vue Cinemas pledged that their begoggled ushers will spend the film's entire two hours and 22 minutes hunting pirates. (Maybe they'll snag a few of those who would try to "enjoy" Hermione's coming of age too publicly—aren't they just pirates of innocence?)

We see this at least ten times a day at the Coffee Bean: A writer gives up his dream of a big Hollywood script sale. Does he do what most of us do, quietly attempting an overdose on over-the-counter back pills, then anonymously calling 911 when they decide it would be easier just to get shit-faced? No, this selfless, failed scribe decides to sell his latest script on eBay, willing to transfer all rights to the lucky buyer so that they too can feel like a failed writer.

None of this "anlking" bullshit: Viacom president/COO Mel Karmazin (pictured at left) quits, reportedly uncomfortable sharing power with mummified chairman and CEO Sumner Redstone. To solve the power-sharing problems, Viacom immediately promoted MTV's Tom "Teen 4-Ever" Freston and CBS head/extreme tooth-whitening enthusiast Les Moonves to...share power as Redstone's bipartite seconds-in-command. Redstone, meanwhile, will spend the next three years of his dotage choosing a successor, hardly noticing Moonves whispering his own name as he turns down the CEO's bed each night.

America celebrated Memorial Day Weekend by going to the movies in record numbers. Hollywood thanks great American memorials everywhere for inspiring the historically-lucrative turnout.

[Originally posted 5-30-04] Blogger A Fly On The Wall hears some big celebrity procreation news from a "CAA agent friend." (Ed. note—Are agents actually friends with anybody? Fly, make sure you still have your wallet.) It's "official": Julia Roberts is all sorts of knocked up, presumably by cameraman husband Danny Moder. She's currently on location in Italy shooting Ocean's Twelve with Moder in tow.

Ask for pics of giant porno billboards and ye shall receive pics of giant porno billboards. Many thanks to our quick-snapping reader for submitting these photos. There's another pic after the jump; click on either of them to see larger versions of the barely-covered breasts that nearly threatened to terrorize the untittilated Sunset Strip masses. It's almost like having the Valley right in your cubicle or living room, without those troublesome money shots!

· MTV: "Oh, that thing where we didn't want to air the Super Size Me commercial? Forget it, somebody fucked up. We totally want it. Who? Um. Johnny Junior-Level-Staffer. He's always screwing things up."

Thank you to this week's advertisers, who are keeping at least one Hollywood degenerate in cheap beer for Memorial Day. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer, send an email here.

NewYorkish thinks NY moviegoers "run the risk of developing symptoms of PTSD by watching the city get thoroughly destroyed." But he fails to mention the dangers of getting lost in Jake Gyllenhaal's dreamy eyes, falling into an open manhole, and suffering a grisly demise in sewage. Either way, he suggests you avoid it.

This is one of the more amusing press releases we've read in some time. Exhibitionist adult sexuality advocates Vivid Video have, ahem, erected a billboard with somewhat-obscured pornstar breasts (Jenna Jameson and Tera Patrick, if you must know) at one of the Sunset Strip's busiest stretches, then pat themselves on the back for averting another "Nipplegate" by allowing a nose to "barely cover" one of Jenna's areolas. People aren't going to be so thrilled when traffic stalls so that SUV-driving onanists can "rubberneck," pretty sure that they can make out a hint of nipple.