Bringing the latest Steve Carell comedy to your local mall is a massive undertaking, requiring the streamlined coordination of studio development, production, marketing and distribution departments. So it isn't unusual when some of the finer details might fall through the cracks say, the use of correct punctuation in a movie's title. The Velvet Blog would get the "copyeditor's twitch" every time it caught a glimpse of a poster or billboard for The 40-Year-Old-Virgin and see no hyphen where a hyphen should be. It wasn't until the oversight trickled down to the eagle-eyed home video department that someone finally caught the error and inserted the wayward linker onto the DVD cover. (Defamer held its nose and went along with the faulty punctuation in all previous posts, as we have a strict "official art is the word of God" policy.)

It's hard not to feel a little sorry for crapulent, lead-footed Lost star Michelle Rodriguez. She gets popped for one teensy little DUI (OK, it wasn't exactly her first) and now all of her vehicular peccadillos become instant headlines. It's merely speeding tickets today, but we shudder to think about what the sensationalist media will do the next time she has a couple of wrap party mai tais, coincidentally sideswipes a wild boar on the way home (hey, since when do feral pigs wear grass skirts and leis?), and in the ensuing post-traumatic panic, tries to drive her car from Oahu to L.A.

· There is perhaps no better way to mourn Tookie Williams' execution than by starting your own gang. Slate shows you how!
· The LAT lets us know what it would've been like to be awake at 4 a.m. and present for the Golden Globes nominations announcement. Sounds scary, so we're glad we were still safely asleep.
· "So what I'm, like, really trying to say is, is that Rachel is like, you know, so out there with her sexualness and stuff. Whereas I am classy-sexy and understated. You think she's gonna totally pull out my hair when she reads this?" [last item]
· And as long as we're on the subject of voluptuousness and overt sexuality, Pam Anderson's pole dancing scared NBC censors shitless.
· No, it's not actually called Jew Jersey. Why do you ask? [via Gawker]

Our Golden Globes round-up omitted all TV nominees, because, let's face it, those Match Game rejects are lucky to even be allowed in the room. It is worth noting, however, that the category of Best Supporting Actress made for another potential chapter in the always entertaining Desperate Housewives inter-cast hate-in.

Reports from UTA's holiday sweepstakes, in which the agency divided the town's assistants into Golden Ticket winners, bitter, chocolate-eating losers, and a third, progressively more bitter faction of those snubbed entirely, have been trickling in all day. Suffice it to say that those who found themselves with $100 to $5,000 of unexpected cash are pretty delighted with the results (our new thousandaire pals at SorryIGotDrunk are already wasted and busy with lapdances, we think), but the others, well, we haven't heard of any candy-related assistant-on-assistant violence yet, but this review of the gift sums it up:

The ongoing battle between Sacha "Borat" Cohen and Kazakhstan continues to heat up. Round One: the Kazakh government catches Cohen's act on MTV Europe Awards, and puts out a tersely worded statement along the lines of, "Stop saying we enjoy rape and have given horses the vote." Round Two: Cohen responds in character on Borat's website, encouraging the government to "sue this Jew," and provides examples of recent Kazakh social advancements ("...homosexuals no longer have to wear blue hats and age of consent has been raised to 8 years old.") Round Three raises the stakes to nothing short of a battle for free internet speech, as the Kazakhs shut down the Borat website:

· The year-ending RES screening at the Egyptian will show the winners of the magazine's Audience and Jury prizes, new videos for Bright Eyes and Royksopp, and Michel Gondry's new stuff for the White Stripes. Once your mind has been sufficiently blown, there's an afterparty.
· Music round-up: Har Mar Superstar and Peaches (who's scheduled to DJ, but will be doing a "surprise set," according to a little birdie) strip down to their underwear to the delight of the assembled hipsters at El Cid—for hurricane relief! The Shore at the Silverlake Lounge; Charlie Haden and the Liberation Music Orchestra at The Echo.
· Six Feet Under creator Alan Ball chats with poet, essayist and Michigan funeral director Thomas Lynch, a conversation that will probably at first seem morbid but ultimately will be an affirmation of life.

OK, kids, your guesses are in and ready for inspection. Take on more trip down One Overly Cozy Blind Vice Lane before moving on:

A high-level Defamer operative was stymied in his attempts to catch one of the perpetually sold-out screenings of Brokeback Mountain last night, but was rewarded with an encounter with one of celebritydom's best examples of stable matrimony as he opted for a couple of hours with the geishas instead:

There has been much speculation on Dave Chappelle's "$50 million" Comedy Central deal, a sum many assumed he kissed bye-bye after ditching the third season of Chappelle's Show for a little sojourn up the side of Mount Bonkers. The guessing is over. Now that The Smoking Gun has posted a breach of contract complaint brought against the comedian by an ex-personal manager, Chappelle's "former jack-of-all-trades" Mustafa Abuelhija, many of the deal's finer points have been revealed:

Sure, you think your feet are pretty nice. But would those expensively pedicured toes pass metatarsal muster with Hollywood's premiere foot-fetishizing auteur? Selfless talk-show diva Tyra Banks might give you the opportunity to find out:

If the city were to award landmark status on eyesore merit alone, certainly the Hancock Park house lined with scores of leprechaun sized mini-Davids would be first on the list. It's a symphony of postmodern architectural pastiche, all white wrought iron rococo flourishes, DirecTV dishes, and the crowning touch, an SUV painted in gradient, sunset colors, parked permanently in the driveway. This year's seasonal embellishments: the letters "FHP" stand whimsically on the roof, a holiday reminder to "Feed His People"; every David gets his own version of a Jake Gyllenhaal thong; and an urban reimagining of Santa and the Mrs. snuggle up for a little mommy and daddy time after the elves have been put to bed. And should any of the well-to-do neighbors complain, the residents can always just shrug their shoulders and reply, "Would you rather an array of giant, spread-legged Paris Hilton portraits?"

· What did Paramount get in the DreamWorks deal? Half of anything Steven Spielberg does (even if he fools around with other studios), distribution rights for DreamWorks Animation films, and in a less-reported concession, Brad Grey gets to pat Jeffrey Katzenberg on the head and call him Lil' Buddy any time he visits the lot. Get it? Because he's short and adorable! [Variety]
· Jude Law joins Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet and Jack Black in Something's Gotta Give writer Nancy Meyers' romantic comedy Holiday, a project whose reportedly torturously prolonged casting process finally yielded exactly the right lovable, nanny-zapping rogue for the role. [THR]
· The forthcoming book Striking Back will simultaneously try to capitalize on the interest in the events depicted in Munich while disputing the version of events reported in Vengeance, the movie's source material. [Variety]
· Lake Bell is in negotiations to play Colin Farrell's wife in New Line cop drama Pride and Glory, assuming the actor doesn't chew through his restraints in rehab and escape before the conclusion of his treatment. [THR]
· Sandy Grushow, who greenlit 24 while at Fox and worked on marketing Die Hard, will produce the real-time drama pilot Crisis for Fox through his Phase Two company. We'll give you three guesses about which two highly successful projects Crisis is compared to. [Variety]

A second well-respected indie movie producer in his 40s has died suddenly. Robert Newmyer, who has a long list of credits including sex, lies and videotape and Training Day, suffered a heart attack in a Toronto gym while visiting the set of Breach, a film he was producing starring Chris Cooper and Ryan Phillippe. An LA Times obituary explains how Drew Barrymore was partially responsible for a passionate career of movie making:

We never meant to neglect your blind item guessing needs, but for the last couple of weeks the wily Ted Casablanca managed to sneak his items past us while we tended to other, far less important matters. Today, The Game returns:

Jenny Shimizu, occasional servicer of Angelina Jolie's extrahetero needs, offers the most evocative description of Jolie's iconic mouth we've ever heard:

If the only chill you felt when the Darth Vader mask was lowered onto Hayden Christensen's head at the end of Episode III was the pleasurable tingling of knowing the credits couldn't be far behind, you are not alone. But according to Page Six, some Star Wars fans would go so far as to accuse Christensen of single-handedly ruining the franchise, to his face:

It seems no awards season news can begin without a discussion of gay cowboy fireside tale Brokeback Mountain. Early this morning, Brokeback piled up seven Golden Globe nominations, with best drama, best director, and best actor nods among them. But the Hollywood Foreign Press quite callously split up the movie's heartsick cowpokes, celebrating sensitive monosyllabic mumbler Heath Ledger while snubbing dreamy-eyed, bull-riding (SPOILER ALERT!) bottom Jake Gyllenhaal. It seems that even the Globes are conspiring to keep these star-crossed lovers apart.

· Comedy Central's put the trailer from the truncated third season of Chappelle's Show online. What you'll find: A disembodied, bald head advising Dave, more Lil John, Dave and Alf, and the pangs of loss from not getting a full season to say goodbye.
· Yahoo has the MI:III (that's Mission: Impossible 3 for those who can't decode the cute, marketing-devised shorthand) trailer online. What you'll find: Philip Seymour Hoffman playing the bad guy, Tom Cruise unconvincingly aggressively kissing Michelle Monahan, shit blowing up and throwing Cruise into a parked car.
· LAT awards season shocker! Studios sometimes buy For Your Consideration ads for unworthy projects and performances, just to massage fragile star egos!
· If you're looking for the lighthearted, bubblegum lipsync pop of Lindsay Lohan's first CD, keep on walkin', dude. On her second disc, Lohan goes all dark and shit. Still lipsyncs, though, so she's got that going for her.

A reader alerts us that we were mistaken in thinking a Paris Hilton goat-keeping reference in an earlier post was a joke: