Are Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer the new Demi and Ashton? After seeing these new photos taken in Miami while Jen continues filming Marley & Me, we're noticing several similarities between her new fling with the tattooed O-face master and the queen and prince of age-gap relationship success stories. Like Ashton was, John is a young, charming, bed-hopping bachelor, and just like Demi, Jennifer is an insanely hot divorced actress far more famous than her beau. The icing on the cougar cake? Just like the Moore-Kutchers, it all started with a bikini:

Confirming rumors that his appointment as Conan O'Brien's Late Night successor was a "done deal," a press event at 30 Rock today presided over by dark SNL overlord Lorne Michaels, NBC rock star Ben Silverman, and badly-in-need-of-a-distinguishing-nickname Marc Graboff, made official their intention to hand over the 12:30 a.m. programming block to one Jimmy Fallon. Goodbye, Masturbating Bear and Pimpbot 5000, hello, masturbating Barry Gibb and '80s radio hits set to "You Can't Touch This." From The Observer:

[Photo Credit: X17]

It was only a matter of time before Cale Boyter, MGM's recently added executive VP of production, joined Mary Parent in aggressively reestablishing the studio as the roaring monolith the world has long prized. Indeed, Boyter's first announced project is a bold step away from Valkyrie and other debacles threatening the mantle of The Wizard of Oz, Gone With the Wind, 2001: A Space Odyssey and others. Or, in short, Hot Tub Time Machine:

Our bosses would never let this fly on our expense report, otherwise we would hire a lawyer right now and take Warner Music to court for hogging the rights to the world's most popular song — "Happy Birthday to You" — when we're told it doesn't even own them. At least that's the argument of Robert Brauneis, a law professor at George Washington University whose close read of the song's copyright history suggests anyone with enough money, free time or a sadistic streak could liberate "Happy Birthday" for public well-wishers around the world:

This just landed in the Defamer tips box: "What crazy-ass, A-list starlet was Checked into the Roosevelt Hotel by a male friend because she was to high to drive, only to reward his chivalry by proceeding to make Poo Angels all over the room—including poo body-prints on the walls. Her shitty shenanigans ended up costing the poor bastard 6 grand." We certainly have no idea, but all this talk of Poo Angel-making has gotten us excited about the holidays! Who's up for a pooball fight? We are! [Defamer]

· Fox has picked up J.J. Abrams's Fringe, about a female FBI agent who "tackles unexplained medical and scientific phenomena," and Joss Whedon's Dollhouse, both for mid-season debuts meant to be bolstered by American Idol's return, an effect Fox internally refers to as "the Drunk-Paula Boost." [Variety]
· The CW makes it official: The Beverly Hills, 90210 spinoff is a go, with Jennie Garth reprising her role as Kelly Taylor. New York magazine will eventually go on to declare the series "mankind's greatest single achievement since the Wright brothers perfected human flight." [THR]
· ABC, meanwhile, has ordered "quirky sci-fi thriller" Life on Mars, a new animated series from Mike Judge called The Goode Family, and Ashton Kutcher reality show Opportunity Knocks. Unlike last year's Cavemen, none are based on an insurance commercial—though Allstate, a "drama with supernatural elements" starring Dennis Haysbert as a creepy guy who has a way of always showing up at highway accidents, is said to be a possible mid-season replacement. [Variety]

Despite recent reports that rehabbed Kirsten Dunst has cleaned up her act by nabbing a good guy boyfriend in Ryan Gosling, attending AA meetings and even heading back to work, the NY Daily News hears all that sober fun came to an abrupt and predictable stop at her 26th birthday party in New York last week. As a witness claims, "The actress looked a lot worse for wear as she tumbled out to the street hours after midnight, with girlfriends gripping her arm." While sightings like these don’t exactly prove Dunst has fallen off the wagon, they do inspire us to play another game of Tipsy Face Bingo: a collection of our favorite Drunk Dunst photos of the past! All of Kirsten’s finest slip-sliding, bleary-eyed, greasy-haired moments, after the jump.

[Photo Credit: Bauer-Griffin]

Several scenes from one of the summer's most anticipated releases—Sex and the City: The Movie (can we just shorten that to Sex and the Movie already? We feel like an asshole every time we type it)—have been leaked online. [SPOILERS AHEAD!] In the sequence above, a subdued—oh, but we all know she's doing cartwheels in her head!—Carrie reveals to her best friends that Big has at long last overcome his aversion to her habit of talking with her mouth full, and finally proposed. We know, we know—this plot point is practically common knowledge by now, but it's another thing entirely to actually see Carrie come out and say it! Like Charlotte, the instant we watched it on our iPhones, we too erupted with an involuntarily squeal of delight that echoed across the walls of the brightly lit, Richard Meier-designed contemporary dining space in which we were power-lunching. It was totally embarrassing—but we didn't care. We only want the best for Carrie, and she just looked so happy. [Blackfilm.com]

While it's always difficult getting used to living with a new roommate, it's not as though Lindsay Lohan and Samantha Ronson met on Craig’s List. After years of jaunting off to Tokyo, tag team DJ nights and generally painting the town pink like two regulars at Truck Stop Fridays, their most recent squabble sounds less like a trivial fight over a messy apartment and more like a rip-roaring catfight one sees at female roller derby tournaments:

For all the career renaissance we've seen from Alec Baldwin over the last three or four years, not even his Golden Globe for 30 Rock overshadows his legendary turn as "Sociopathic Father" in last year's wildly popular Web-exclusive release Thoughtless Little Pig. Even Morley Safer couldn't stop talking about it last night on 60 Minutes; in the accompanying video, watch the "appalling" Baldwin float like a butterfly and sting like a bee under Safer's withering sallies, punch back with word of his forthcoming book on "divorce and parental alienation" and finally score the knockout with his disarming rejoinder about a potential political career: "There's other things I want to do. I mean, in a matter of weeks I'm going to be 50... By 60 Minutes correspondent terms, I am a young man!" Oh, Alec, you bastard. We just can't stay mad at you. [60 Minutes]

Yesterday, I finally received my advance copy of Hiding in Hip Hop, former closeted entertainment industry gadfly (pictured) Terrance Dean's much-hyped autobiography about all of the gays that are, well, hiding in hip hop. I've read about half of it so far. Dean has already proven himself eager to trot out blind items about male celebrities he says he's hooked up with, and the book doesn't disappoint in that regard. Today, an overview of what the book is and isn't, and then some of what you've been waiting for: three TV actors, a famous rapper, and a "megastar," anonymously outed.

Pictured, tropical-bird-whisperer and Transformers star Megan Fox on the set of Jennifer's Body, the Diablo Cody-penned, super-kinetic Raimian horror film currently shooting in Vancouver. Wet, trembling, and with only two flesh-colored pasties (nothing to do with modesty, but actually a scripted wink to Cody's vocational past) preventing the full scope of her goodies from being on glorious display, it seems as though Fox, playing the film's bloodthirsty cheerleader protagonist, has mastered the "body" half of the title's equation. All that's left now is for her to tackle the tricky cadences of Cody's trademarked, Academy Award-winning dialogue, at which point the full of impact of lines like "Fried bologna is the bomb!" and "Slow down tardy slip. You sound like a sped," will earn the actress the Saturn nominations that have so eluded her until now.

[Photo Credit: Flynet]

We can't imagine how or why, after the ordeals of Three Kings and I Heart Huckabees, trouble could possibly find its way back to the set of a David O. Russell film. Alas, there it is — or, was, rather, in South Carolina, where only three weeks after resident cookie-choking expert James Caan quit the project, both the Teamsters and IATSE are grumpy and SAG reportedly shut production down because of "insufficient funds on deposit with the guild." And that's just the beginning, writes Nikki Finke:

We hate to rain on Tom Cruise’s purity parade, but it seems his bundle of Hubbard Formula-chugging joy, Suri Cruise, has gone seriously gaga for two older men. And she’s got the giggles to show it. While babysitting for all three Beckham boys as David bent it like...well, lost to the visiting team, Tom and Katie brought finger-nibbling Suri along to watch. But the blanketed Cruiselette only had eyes for one guy: and he goes by Brooklyn Beckham. Tom did seem more interested in setting up Suri with the littlest Beckham (Cruz Beckham! Just picturing future Scientology couple Suri Cruise and Cruz Beckham likely made Tom's removable head spin with possibilities), Suri couldn’t keep her eyes off 9-year old Brooklyn. But earlier last week while still in NY, TomKat attended Suri’s favorite musical, and we have a feeling fellow Scientologist John Travolta’s role in the movie version had nothing to do with her ear-to-ear grin while leaving: a certain song-and-dancing Efronabbe got her all shook up...

Chase away the Monday morning May-gloom blues with a glimpse at the box office numbers:

How's this for irony? The same week Warner Bros. reestablished its mainstream priorities by dramatically cutting off Picturehouse and Warner Independent at the knees, the studio opened the summer with one of its biggest bombs in years: Speed Racer, the imperially promoted, poorly received $100 million Wachowskis film that opened this weekend to $20.2 million — if that. A Defamer operative inside Time Warner sent word Sunday that the studio's estimate could be overstating its actual gross by as much as $2.5 million, placing it in third place overall behind the relatively well-received What Happens in Vegas, which Fox is calling at $20 million but is likelier to cap out between $18 and $18.5 million. We'll know the actual numbers later today, but as explained after the jump, it couldn't get much more sobering for Warner Bros.

· Iron Man scores. Looking beneath the big guy's hood. Marvel's ready to make a movie out of anything they can slap a "Man" onto. Crushing Speed Racer into a little cube.
· Picturehouse and Warner Independent, they sleep with the indie fishes. We pick through the wreckage.
· Is Scientology® brand Baby Gruel hindering the development of Hollywood's next generation of disenturbulated superstars?
· Oh Wachowskiiiis...Come out, come out wherever you are!
· Who says Scarlett Johansson can't have it all? She owes it all to her five totally not-perving-on-her dads.
· Sumner Redstone extends a gilded olive branch to Tom Cruise.
· Susan Sarandon just gettin' by on biker tats and speed.
· Lindsay Lohan loses an $11,000 fur and a job in the span of one week, but neither were really hers to begin with.
· Twilight looks better than Lost Boys 2, but both could use a heavy dollop of Haim.
· If Barbara Walters thinks Oprah's heels are hard to maneuver, how did she handle the corset, Bunny ears, and tray?
· A couple resolutions: For Sarah Jessica Parker to shut the fuck up. And for Beverly Hills Chihuahua to hurry up and open already so we can witness a still-beating Chihuahua heart get plucked from the chest of a sacrificial lapdog.
· There's gold nuggets in them thar Hills!
· The wisdom of a John Cusack, Diablo Cody, or Bob Ross isn't all that different than you might think.
· Madonna is just another housewife who didn't figure out she's a lesbian until she hit her 50s.
· "And I'm proud to be an American/Where at least there's bikinis..."
· Gearing up for the Scheisse Video Trial of the Century.
· Team Taco Trucks!