The Defamer Special Playboy Mansion Correspondent files this report on Saturday night's annual Halloween bash at Hef's place, where Paris Hilton stretched the limits of her creativity while the likes of Jeremy Piven and Bill Maher showed up sans costume, hoping to improvise something utilizing a "male participant in Misses March Through August orgy" motif. Sound a little boring compared to the Mansion's glory days? Did we mention that Frankie Muniz, Alan Thicke, and somebody from the Amazing Race were there? Sounds like (presumably—our spy didn't go snorkeling in the Grotto to check) absent Official Hollywood Playmate Inspector Owen Wilson was hardly missed:

Kevin Federline might be a lousy father (who could've seen that one coming?), but we think he makes a dandy costume for Halloween revelers on a budget. Grab a 40, a bag of Cheetos, and a chain from grandma's jewelry box, and you're good to go at a total price of less than ten bucks. (Note: The dozen prosthetic penises (link NSFW) required to upgrade to a West Hollywood Halloween Carnival version of the costume may drive up costs.)

· Owen "The Butterscotch Stallion" Wilson shakes his glorious mane and gallops proudly away from Paramount's The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, possibly due to the studio's inability to find a female co-star meeting the Stallion's exacting standards. In a tragic downgrade, Zach Braff is now considered the frontrunner to take Wilson's place. [THR]
· Fox orders a pilot of the Jerry "All Your TV Are Belong To Me" Bruckheimer celebrity-lawyer procedural American Crime. Bored of merely recycling concepts, Bruckheimer mixes things up by reusing titles, as American Crime was the original name of CBS's Close to Home. [Variety]
· Jennifer Garner's Vandalia Films sets up erotic thriller Sabbatical at Touchstone as a starring vehicle for the actress, who bravely refuses to believe that marrying Ben Affleck has effectively ended her career. [THR]
· Touchstone TV rewards Grey's Anatomy showrunner Jim Parriott for his breakout, post-Housewives timeslot hit with a three year overall deal. [Variety]
· NBC ponders moving My Name is Earl to highly competitive (and lucrative) Thursday night, but Fox might be mulling a shift of juggernaut American Idol to that night as well, likely resulting in untold Must See TV ratings carnage. [THR]

Hollywood would be foolish to bet against Harvey Weinstein, even if his just-birthed Weinstein Co. pledges to operate under a policy of fiscal sanity and restraint. The NY Times reports that the New Harvey is willing to yank his belt tight (admittedly, a much easier proposition now that he's dropped much of the weight that could've resulted in a heart attack each time he choked the life from an underachieving employee ) to prove that he can make movies without Disney's open checkbook:

Perhaps it's time to consider soberly the possibility that Mel Gibson's been driven insane by the astounding financial rewards derived from pouring his heart into a snuff film about his savior, The Passion of the Christ. The now dramatically bearded Gibson (think Saddam Hussein with a better stylist) is not only directing in tongues on a full-time basis, but holds press conferences in which he suspiciously withholds details about his newest movie, but generously touches on his heroic battles with diarrhea. The LAT passes along this nugget about Gibson's gastrointestinal distress on the set of Apocalypto:

Time to dump out Hollywood's trick-or-treating pillowcase and see who greedily snapped up the most box office candy:

Hello, folks, Mark Lisanti here. I've returned from yet another all-too-brief hiatus from the blogging grind. But please don't think that I put aside my responsibilities to go cavorting in some hedonistic paradise where the blow is served in hollowed out coconuts and delivered to your cabana by a volcano-ready virgin. No, this was a working vacation. Unfortunately, a pretty comprehensive nondisclosure agreement prohibits me from divulging the details, but suffice it to say that when Brian Grazer offers you a million dollars to carve his likeness into a pumpkin, you call in sick to the day job and learn to love the feeling of seedy, orange guts running between your fingers.

To put it plainly, these past three days have turned me into something of a Unabomber. I'm unwashed and somewhat slightly dazed. Meals became bananas and Trader Joe's cheesey puffs (Brit I totally get it now). And yet! And yet I feel like we've really accomplished something here. See, Dad! I did make something of my life! I've become a fill-in Defamerette! Like Liz Smith, but hairier! (Ed.: Factcheckers, verify that.)

· Welcome to Mollywood.
· LA Observed makes a very good point!
· Paris Hilton may flap her ass all the way to London: She s had enough of New York and L.A....She s moved around too much lately and feels that she could really settle in London. She s especially fond of Chelsea. Yay for us! Pray for them.
· Gee, while we're slaving away over here, we're glad Mark and the rest of the Gawkeroos are having a grand ol' boozy time.
· Donald Trump is on a rampage. Mass firing his Apprentice candidates. Blasting the New York Times. We have a little theory: he's going through the male change.

Friday
· Mireille Guiliano signs her best-selling book French Women Don t Get Fat: The Secret of Eating for Pleasure at the Grove Barnes and Noble. Republican women, on the other hand, do.
· Friday night music: Pretty Girls Make Graves at the Troubadour, Bauhaus at the Wiltern, Sage Francis at the Henry Fonda.
· Check out 18th Street Arts Center s Halloween celebration featuring live electronic band Cirrus and DJs from KXLU, and performance art by Clan Destino, Wide Open Works and Bob Bellerue.
Saturday
· Arcana books hosts a publication party for Bruce Weber's new collection of photography, Blood Sweat and Tears Or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Fashion. Mr. Weber himself will be on hand to sign your purchase. No promises about his almost-naked Abercrombie & Fitch models, though.
· Saturday night music: Suicidal Tendencies and The Germs at the Olympic Auditorium, Chromeo at Little Pedro s, The Warlocks at the El Rey.
Sunday
· Check out the drunk clowns, cancerous cigarette girls, and perverted carnies at our parents' house. No just kidding, at Carnaville at the Highways Performance Space.
· The appropriately named We Are Scientists and Blood Arm play a show at the Troubadour on Halloween eve.
· Ray Bradbury will speak about his life and work, and what a giant stinker Michael Moore is, at the Studio City Branch Library.

The next three films Mel Gibson has in development feature only Dutch Creole, Esperanto and Mbariman-Gudhinmese dialogue respectively, but until then we'll have to settle for just plain old ancient Mayan:

...And this little piggie ran aaaall the way home, but then the sixth little piggie walked over to the neighbor's house, and got an A-list star who probably needed to get his mind off of things anyway to sign on to her latest project:

If a waxed, muscular arm happens to whip the cigarette out of your lips the next time you light-up, do not be alarmed. Towleroad reports of a new campaign sweeping through our fair city's streets called Last Drag. Mission: get The Gays to quit smoking:

We're sensing a strong female presence just north of your head. We're getting a B name...I mean L...C? Yes that's what we meant, a C. Carol. Carla? Catherine! Yes of course, Catherine! She's pointing to an object, it's a ring! A bicycle? A mask! Yes, a mask and she's telling you everything will be all right...she's proud of you...and that these are the weekend grosses:

You know that tingly, hopeful, wonderful feeling you get sitting at your desk around 4:00 pm on a Friday? Wouldn't it be great if they could bottle it? Guess what they already have, in the form of Defamer sponsors and their wares! Take a moment out of your busy day, will you, to luxuriate in their Jake Gyllenhaal-levels of dreaminess. And should you care to join them, everything you need to know is right here.

· M. Night Shyamalan tells exhibitors at the ShowEast conference that collapsing traditional distribution windows is "the worst idea I have ever heard. Then, in a stunning coda that reversed everything his audience thought to be true, he revealed that they were in fact at ShoWest all along. [Variety]
· Sam Mendes acceptance speech for his director of the year award at the Hollywood Film Festival is the height of humility and graciousness: "I'm very fond of giving awards to movies you've never seen. To those of you who've seen the movie, thank you very much. To those of you who haven't it's perfect." [Variety]
· Sony slips into the red, largely in part to well-deservedly ignored crapola like Stealth. Amy Pascal stands soaked in the metaphorical rain, praying a Spidey-in-shining-spandex will lower himself to her upside-down and slip her the profitable tongue. [Variety]
· Six Feet Under creator Alan Ball sets up another drama at HBO based on Charlaine Harris' Southern Vampire series of novels, about a world where vampires and humans co-exist. Gee, yet another entertainment industry related show on HBO. Quel surprise. [Variety]
· Lifetime's Strong Medicine kicks the bucket. Rick Schroder thinks about next steps, starting with further shortening his name to Ri.' [THR]

• Leno Offers Kids Advice on Being Funny

A Defamer operative shared this recent run-in with bumper-bumping-due-to-bumping-up paparaccident-magnet Lindsay Lohan:

• Phil Spector's statements after actress was shot to death ruled admissible [CourtTV.com]

Trick or treat! Or neither. We're flexible that way. Truth be told, we always found Halloween a little overrated, conjuring up images of beer-battered Bridge N' Tunnel hordes at the West Village parade disguised in such creative costumes as 'Mets fan' and 'person wearing rubber mask,' and barking things like "Yo, Enhgela! Check out awl da quee-uhs!" in our ear. But don't let our candy-baggage ruin your fun. Get out there! Get wasted! Get laid! (And here is a hilarious guide to costumes that won't help you do that. Warning: the banner ads feature big boners and are not safe for work.) Just be extra careful, folks: the number of chicks with dicks increases exponentially on All Hallow's Eve.