[Cirque du Soleil performers do a show on the Santa Monica Pier this afternoon; image via Getty]

ZOMG guys, are you dying? Real Housewives of New Jersey premieres tonight, and it's getting really good reviews. I mean, not like Wire reviews. But good for a reality show reviews.

That wisp dancing up into the azure sky isn't smoke from the Fire of Santa Barbara. No, it's bits of the dearly departed soul of Spencerina, fleeting up to heaven to make handbags with God.

Oh look. The CW built us a time machine. And, hey, a date's already programmed in. It says "sometime in the 1980's." Huh. That's sorta vague and unfocused. Oh well. Let's step in.

Hipster movies are made, as are ones about the depraved world of small town Texas. Which are sorta hipster in their own right. Bad news for David E. Kelley, which is good news for us.

Today we have a big-breastuhted lady who is given cocaine by charities, some foul-mouthed drama on the set of a drama, and an actress who couldn't turn her baby into cash.

EW.com has some cryptic information about many TV season finales, the most intriguing detail being that seven, count 'em 7, deaths will occur. So who will die? More importantly, who should die?

Dead man walking. Rather, Dead 80's Blonde Spinoff Girl walking. Tonight's Gossip Girl features a look back at the youth of Lily van der Woodsen, and sets up a new spinoff. Except, show's not happening.

Short answer: No. Longer answer: Sorta. The New York Times ponders the important question today, as the singing competition show's ratings drop but its revenues continue to skyrocket.

Movies about driving and TV shows about the internet are just so hot right now. As are Pixar, that Finch guy from that boy movie, and, as always, Antonio Banderas.

To Infinity, and Beyond! I mean... um... Frak! Wait. No. I am... your father... Greedo... Bespin... Um... Oh, right! Star Trek prospered this weekend and will likely live long in theaters.

[Christina Ricci and her enormous fiance in Los Angeles yesterday; image via Bauer-Griffin]

Today we have a cheating TV actor at the Correspondents Dinner, a celebrity caught getting ahead in his dressing room, and an actress who likes to steal flower centerpieces from restaurants.

My experience following celebrity Twitters has shown that it's usually an exercise in crushing disappointment, often leading one to loathe the celebrity Twitter-er with the intensity of a million white-hot suns, but this is endearing.

So the weekend box office numbers are in and they've confirmed something I'd already suspected: I'm the only upright-walking mammal with at least twelve dollars of disposable income who hasn't seen Star Trek.

Two of the largest, most storied baby-eating factories talent agencies in the world are merging. But sometimes, in order to birth a monster, the assistants must suffer. We have a few firsthand accounts.

Too bad the Correspondent's Dinner will probably dominate any comedy talking points today, because last night's cameo-littered Saturday Night Live was the funniest it's been in a long, long time.

Yet another old video of Tom Cruise being all crazy-like has come to light. Care to watch before it's removed?

This month's Esquire says that the new Terminator movie is all about a scream, or something, but that the scream is bad, and McG definitely isn't a tool. Oh super. This movie will be great.

Color us confused: Hollywood gossip Perez Hilton, aka Mario Lavandeira, the queen of the knockoff disguised as parody. So why is he suing PerezRevenge to get it to change its name?