· A "well-placed source" tells To Gawp that The OC's producers are itching to kill off Coop. Having her murdered by the pool furniture she famously abused a while back would be no less believable or unmotivated than anything else they've tried this season, so we're all for it.
· Hey, unicorn!
· It's old fake-news, but early frontrunner for headline of the month: Lohan gets bedroom shocker.
· Andy Dick is browbeaten into paying for beers in New Orleans, violating his own First Rule of Being a Celebrity. Happily, no one is licked or punched in the course of the transaction.

Towleroad noted a segment from Jimmy Kimmel Live last week (we found the clip on YouTube) in which Joseph Gannoscoli, the actor who plays Vito, was sent with a camera to West Hollywood's best known gay bar, The Abbey. Why? We're not exactly sure—something about interviewing the owner about membership in the "pink mafia." (In Kimmel's world, adding "gay" to anything makes for instant comedy.) Other highlights include a heated discussion with porn star Max Grand over whether or not Vito is his type (he isn't), and a provocative encounter with a bowl of sliced apples ("Get a load of this fruit!") Luckily, no whack jobs transpire, unless you count a brief interaction between clientele at the bars' furthest urinals.

It took all of our strength not to Photoshop a cartoon bubble emanating from Tom Cruise's mouth shrieking, "Wheeeeeeeeeeee!" to the crowd assembled to watch him ride his very butch motorcycle to the NY premiere of M:i:III. But by mentioning our restraint, we suppose that we ultimately lost our battle with immaturity. We've got to remember to bring that up at the next auditing session. [Photo: Getty Images]
· The always-reliable British tabloid press reports that Cruise and Katie Holmes have agreed on a $40 million pre-nup. And in an even more impressive act of generosity, should the couple split, Cruise will only require that Holmes serve out a third of her billion-year contract, leaving over 600 million of her best years to enjoy her fortune. [Daily Mail]

· Music round-up: Morningwood and Rocket at the Roxy; Morning After Girls and Sky Parade at Spaceland; Rainer Maria at The Troubadour; Drive-by Truckers and Son Volt at House of Blues.
· The Egyptian again hosts Los Angeles Plays Itself a documentary about the "real" LA vs. how it's represented in the movies. If 24 fit within the film's scope, the director would probably have crapped himself with glee.
· AFI continues its weekly rockumentary orgy with George Michael: A Different Story at the Arclight, then invites Wham! fans to white-man's-overbite their way up the street for a free afterparty.

Russell Crowe reportedly had a rare, lighter moment with a British reporter in which the noted anger management flunkee openly shared his thoughts on certain asymmetrical enhancements made to Sharon Stone's famously naked acting instrument. But once the tabloids ran with the quote, the NY Daily News notes, Crowe's crack team of fire-fighting flacks were left to quench the runaway flames ignited by their client's loose lips:

Recent cover stories on Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan have helped establish Vanity Fair as the go-to publication for reading 8,000-word pieces on celebrities whose publicists can only squeeze out 500 or so words at a time from the weeklies. Fully committed to the responsibilites of this hard-won, exalted position, VF's website is already touting the next installment of their "Let Me Explain Why I Am So Distressingly Skinny" series, in which Nicole Richie holds forth on the mystery of her extravagant boniness. The release even quotes her therapist, who furrows a brow as he offers his thoughts on the measures they're taking to correct the problem:

When Hottest Hollywood Assistants launched its highly amusing, if brief, reign of beauty-rating terror on the industry's call-rolling caste in late March, not everyone was amused to suddenly discover his or her picture up for ranking on the site. (Especially, we imagine, the guy from Michael Bay's office whose prankster-supplied avatar was fucking a tailpipe while wearing lingerie.) Some were even so upset at their identity-jacking that they called attorneys (assistants with lawyers—the end is surely nigh), as illustrated by the conscientiously redacted cease-and-desist letter excerpted above, which seems to make the argument that misrepresenting one's place on the hotness scale or career ambitions are sins as serious as using someone's likeness without permission.

Yesterday's disturbing Coachella report, in which Andy Dick grabbed a premium-priced Heineken draught beer from a Defamer operative's hands and put his lips to the cup and drank from it, just scratched the surface of the damage reaped by the black-eyed beer-pirate. A second report has just come in:

· Sirius' one-time, $225 million stock payment to Howard Stern contributes to the company's $459 million loss. Still, the company's stock rose six percent, supporting the perceived value to satellite radio of having porn stars ride orgasm-inducing machinery. [Variety]
· An MPAA study claims that piracy cost the film industry $6.1 billion last year. But not having read the report, we don't know if that total counts every time someone illegally download Deuce Bigalow or Stealth for a goof as a lost DVD or ticket sale. [THR]
· Emma Roberts will star in the Fox teen flick Rodeo Gal, which writer Katie Wech will "rewrite and tailor" for Roberts, i.e., make sure there's a juicy cameo for Aunt Julia. [Variety]
· ABC yanks the once-promising, much-troubled Commander in Chief for the rest of the season. [THR]
· ABC's alternative programming chief describes the upcoming Summer Share as "'The Real World' meets 'Laguna Beach' for adults." We love it when a pitch lets you know you'll never have to watch a show. [Variety]

Driving down Santa Monica Blvd. last night, we noticed an ad campaign for Entourage had popped up on bus shelters and benches. (Which, when you think about it, provides more than a dollop of irony considering the show's characters would sooner throw themselves under the tires of a repossessed Hummer before riding LA's public transportation.) The tagline itself, however, left us so completely confused, we snapped a picture of it: Block, white letters on a black background, stating "It begins and ends with E." Would E! network run syndicated repeats? Was this just some lame reference to Vince's manager/best friend Eric, whose nickname is E? Or would the third season be book-ended with love-drug-fueled Hollywood Hills parties and Vegas Strip adventures, during which Turtle and Drama finally physicalize their deep, mutual admiration? We're rooting for door #3.

This morning brings news capping yesterday's chatter about the sudden ankling/whacking/"resignation under pressure" of Warner Independent president Mark Gill, whose exit (with, of course, the expected "don't let the door hit you in the ass" production deal) was announced in a statement rudely omitting Gill's biggest contribution to the studio. Reports the LAT:

Tori Spelling's autobiographical VH1 sitcom, so noTORIous, veers from the delightful roadmap of privilege that is her life when it comes to the subject of romance. While the series portrays her as a likable and bumbling single girl looking for her one true mensch, the real Tori has already found him in Dean McDermott, a Canadian actor she met while shooting the Lifetime movie Mind Over Murder. McDermott was married with children at the time, but he immediately informed his wife, actress Mary Jo Eustace, that he and Spelling were "soul mates" and that he was leaving his family. Eustace is now shopping a book about how she survived every woman's worst nightmare: having your life destroyed by Donna Martin, former 90210 virgin. Says Page Six:

The M:i:III publicity onslaught will quickly fade after this weekend's opening, but as the above poster (whipped up by a talented, bored reader) reminds us, we still have the run-up to a sacrifice wedding to look forward to. Unless, of course, Katie Holmes chews through both of her shackled ankles while Cruise is distracted with move promotion and somehow teeters her way to freedom before the ceremony.
· M:i:III premieres at the Tribeca Film Festival today, where Cruise will traverse Manhattan by rickshaw, jetpack, and pinebox racer as he scrambles to attend various screenings of the movie. He'll end his odyssey at the Ziegfield Theater, where he will allegedly snub lovable NBC host Al Roker for consorting with known suppressive Matt Lauer. [Gawker]
· Tom Cruise is in possession of Eyes Wide Shut co-star Sydney Pollack's recipes. Thrilling! Should this item end in a "Tom knows the history of cooking" or a boiled placenta joke? (second item) [Fox411]

Variety reported late yesterday afternoon that the ugliness between Brokeback Mountain gay cowboy enabler Randy Quaid and Focus Features, the studio that he felt used his love of independent cinema to trick him into accepting a lower fee to appear in four scenes in the movie, may have finally ended with a "backdoor agreement" (Var's words, not ours, though you know our affection for a good sodomy pun) between the parties. Focus, however, is coyly denying the rekindling of their romance:

· For just ten bucks, you can help Christine Pechera, one of the producers of the, er, fuckementary F*UCK (a movie that almost certainly features more f-bombs per second than a Samuel L. Jackson film) fight her Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma by buying a Fuck Cancer bracelet. (We smell a new fashion statement being born.) More info here and here.
· Forgive us is this one isn't particularly fresh, but we must: Snakes on a Plane on a Cat. This is what heaven must be like.
· Our globetrotting, hostel-haunting brother site Gridskipper is blogging from Dubai this week. What bullshit! We never get to go anywhere.
· Thank God that James Bond isn't French. We really wouldn't be able to handle a snooty superspy.
· James Woods' heart is fine, and he's already back home and able to have sex with 19-year-old girls. No worries.

While some of us stayed far away from the heat and crowds of the Coachella festival, our Madonna, Ladytron and Daft Punk-loving (read: gay sex-having) contingent did manage to brave the crush of humanity for the communal experience of $7 draft beers, endless Porta-Potty lines, and the privilege of having the future ex-Mrs. Richie ask us "motherfuckers" how her "ass looked." ("Good," we responded, but we don't think she could hear us over the other 50,000 people chiming in with their own thoughts on the matter.) In any case, things could have been much worse, as we realized after reading this report sent in by a Defamer operative: A traumatic festival run-in with Andy Dick, who was still sporting fresh war wounds from his latest intoxicant-fueled tavern rumble, and was apparently looking to start another:

· Tuesday Night "Hey, didn't we just see them at Coachella?" Music: Imogen Heap at the Glasshouse in Pomona, Ladytron at the El Rey, and Secret Machines play a free show at Amoeba.
· Self-anointed "Queen of the Oddballs" Hillary Carlip read and signs her autobiography at The Grove Barnes and Noble. She will also recreate her Gong Show juggling routine triumph, a game show which was hosted by Chuck Barris, whose life was captured by director George Clooney in his Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. So, basically, going to this reading is your way of making up for the Darfur genocide demonstrations you failed to attend Sunday.
· LACMA hosts a screening of Stardust: The Betty Davis Story, with director Peter Jones in attendance. Finally, someone who can tell us if she ever really told a young actor seeking Hollywood advice, "Take Fountain."

Like a reluctantly implemented early bird special at Vesuvio, today you get two-for-one Sopranos cast member arrests. Louis Gross, the musclebound lunk who joined the series this season as Tony's bodyguard, was arrested yesterday for burglary—now downgraded to "criminal mischief"—and has also been accused in a separate incident of shoplifting and injuring the store manager in the process:

What better way to celebrate today's announcement of a third season pick-up for Boston Legal, ABC's Emmy-award winning showcase for the scenery-masticating talents of stars William Shatner and James Spader, than by scooping up a chair claimed to have been owned by Spader himself: