Since we didn't get a chance to do the weekend projections on Friday, we're unburdened of our usual crippling feelings of failure and inadequacy on this Monday morning. Enjoy these numbers, free of the usual baggage of our expectations:

· US Weekly is the first to report that Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson, having hung in there long enough to live up to the 'for richer' part of their vows, decide to drop the charade and cash in their chips before finding out what comes next. Grocery check-outs everywhere are suddenly good for a laugh.
· Desperate Housewives' Eva Longoria finds seasonal references mixed with loud swearing serves as a handy substitute to paying for things. A greeting card craze ensues.
· A studio lot spy snaps a picture of George Clooney's adorable microcar; if he tried to squeeze his fat Syrianna ass into this thing, we think we may have an inkling as to how he ruptured his spinal fluid sac.
· New Line throws obnoxious sums of cash at Chris Tucker, Jackie Chan and Brett Ratner, hoping to once again bottle the Rush Hour magic.
· Brittany Murphy's lawyer sends us an angry letter letting us know how hard y'all suck at the Blind Item Guessing Game. Really, people, for shame!

· Our favorite review of the week, courtesy of the LAT's Carina Chocano: "Rent is commodified faux bohemia on a platter, eliciting the same kind of numbing soul-sadness as children's beauty pageants, tiny dogs in expensive boots, Mahatma Gandhi in Apple ads. It's about art, activism and counterculture in the same way that a poster of a kitten hanging from a tree branch ("Hang in There!") is about commitment and heroic perseverance."
· Borat answers the Kazakhstan government's charges: "I like to state, I have no connection with Mr Cohen and fully support my government's position to sue this Jew."
· The LA Weekly's Nikki Finke reports that Steven Spielberg will eschew the Oscar-campaign blitzkrieg typical of high-profile movies like his Munich, choosing to let the work stand on its own over sending out boxes full of "For Your Consideration" ski masks to Academy members.
· AD's George Michael laments Fox's lack of promotion for his show, tips us off that the Tobias hair-plug storyline is about to get really dark.
· Celeb MarriageWatch: Elton John and his partner plan a civil union in Britain, while Peter Brady and that ANTM chick selflessly protect the sanctity of traditional marriage by getting hitched on VH1.

At a sad time like this, we cling to the happy memories of our youth: practicing our crane-kicks at recess with friends, a summer spent humming Peter Cetera's "For the Glory of Love," the launch of Hilary Swank's Oscar-winning career.

If this week has made one thing clear to us, it's that the stars are bursting at the seams with Thanksgiving spirit. First, Eva Longoria taught a Koo Koo Roo parking attendant what the holiday is all about. Then, on Thanksgiving day itself, a reader has a turkey moment with Marky Mark at a Beverly Hills gas station:

Even after escaping his infamous phone-based assault of a New York concierge with the most delicate of judicial wrist-slaps, telecommunications quality-control advocate Russell Crowe still has found something to gripe about:

Fuck-you money is nice, but as Sarah Michelle Gellar can attest, Grudge money's better. Page Six reports today that the actress has found herself in the enviable position of turning down some hefty paydays, in the name of modesty:

In this season of thanks, let us not forget the gratitude we feel for this week's sponsors. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer and rent your very own chamber in our hearts, see this page.

Whenever a reluctant truth-bomb like late Wednesday's (very sneaky) announcement that Nick and Jessica have abandoned their marital charade is dropped on the celebrity rag universe—thanks, Us Weekly—it takes some time for the magazines to pick up the pieces.

The Nick and Jessica Thanksgiving Special is tinged with sadness this year, as the couple has finally succumbed to the incredible stress of pretending to be married for the sake of their careers and admitted their separation to Us Weekly. The end of the Nick and Jessica Era sounds like this:

Because cooking up a batch of delicious yams to show our gratitude to all of you would be both time and cost prohibitive, we hope you'll all instead accept our love in the form of this special edition Eva Longoria Thanksgiving e-card. We'll be back on Friday, but in the meantime, enjoy a smattering of links:

· Enjoy a special "21+ Screening" of Walk The Line at the Arclight; audience participation takes on a whole new level of fun when you can drink yourself into a hole right along with the hero!
· The perfect antidote to reading Defamer: volunteer serving meals to the needy at The Hospitality Kitchen (aka The Hippie Kitchen).
· You can party and do a good deed at the annual Turkey Soup fundraiser bash at Basque, brought to you in part by LA.com. Remember to bring canned foods for a $5 discount at the door!

After being found miraculously not-guilty of perhaps some of the creepiest, most well-substantiated crimes in recent headline memory, the Erstwhile King of Pop moved halfway across the world to Dubai, only to be caught in a ladies' room applying makeup. Once again, the sissy-voiced Sultan of Sleepovers was the laughing stock of the planet. But just how sissy-voiced is he? A Court TV reporter now claims that the childlike falsetto we have come to associate with the disgraced singer is as fake as the nose on his face:

A spy on the Sunset Gower lot, where George Clooney is currently working on reshoots for his latest movie, sends along this cameraphone pic and a quick note about the actor's current, and decidedly unpimped, ride:

With Cinderella Man so spectacularly shitting the box office bed in its ill-fated summer-event-movie release (remember the refund offer?), Universal now hopes that a limited rerelease (in densely Academy-vote populate LA and NY) and an early December appearance on DVD will mitigate the damage by helping the movie pick up some awards nominations. More interesting, however, is the way the studio is selling the Oscar-trolling reincarnation:

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are authored by our readers; send yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put “sighting” or “PrivacyWatch” in the subject line) and let the world know that Vince Vaughn doesn't open Jennifer Aniston's car door.

After a momentary lapse of gossip rag baby-whoring reason, Britney Spears has finally come to her senses and given the go ahead to People to print photos of her with newborn son Sean Preston on their cover. Proud father Kevin Federline is pictured too, his cornrows pulled extra tight, resulting in a convincing simulation of actual smiling:

· Viacom names the board members of its post-split companies. While "new" Viacom head Tom Freston endeavored to populate his new board with solid, qualified businesspeople, CBS Corp. despot Les Moonves selected only directors bloodthirsty enough to help him rise up and slay skeletal corporate overlord Sumner Redstone when the time is right. [Variety]
· Sylvester Stallone recasts his own real-life son (whose heartbreaking turn as Rocky Jr. in the last movie haunts us to this day) with Gilmore Girls' Milo Ventimiglia for the sixth Rocky installment. What can we believe in when even nepotism fails us in this time of need? [THR]
· CBS midseason schedule unfolds before our eyes: Out of Practice gets a January "breather" (read: tied up in Les Moonves's trunk) while Tom Cavanaugh project Love Monkey and The Jenna Elfman Show find time slots. In March, when (read: if) )Out of Practice returns, it will be joined by the Julia Louis Dreyfus show The New Adventures of Old Christine and the David Mamet drama The Unit. Got it? Nope, neither do we. [Variety]
· Kevin Reilly celebrates the pre-Thanksgiving miracle of an NBC ratings win by giving turkeys to all of his employees. Unfortunately, the birds were already half-baked and will likely have to be abandoned midway through Thursday's meals. [THR]
· Single track downloads more than doubled from last year, but album sales are down 7%, prompting the MPAA to sue each individual downloaded track for destroying the industry's business model. [Variety]

We hate to take another trolley ride through Lohanville so quickly, but after perusing a gallery of images from last night's American Music Awards, it seems that everyone's favorite Mercedes crumple-zone tester used her platform ("an erratic and miserable performance," raves the Boston Herald!) to embrace a message of peace for the holidays. The simple, repeated gesture warmed our hearts, but we have to admit that we find it somewhat lacking after the seasonal catharsis offered by a single, spontaneous, "Jesus! It's Thanksgiving! Be nice. FUCK!"

It was to be the next great Hollywood romantic pairing our generation's Burton and Taylor, their tempestuous, larger-than-life passion bubbling over into unforgettable on-screen performances in historical epics. They were supposed to get married to each other possibly more than once! No more: fire-eyed demon of temptation, thy name is Hard Rock Hotel & Casino.