We'd expected as much, but Citysearch makes it official: A night with a rubbery chili dog is just as satisfying as one with Ashton Kutcher's pals and their overpriced sushi.

In what is easily our most brain-melting PrivacyWatch entry to date, a reader presents an incredible account of a very special day at the T-Mobile store in Beverly Hills. Honestly, we don't know where to start: Paris Hilton's dissing of Hilary Swank? The sudden rash of celebrity Sidekick thefts? Just about the only thing that didn't happen was Catherine Zeta Jones parachuting in to save the day by frying the paparazzi throng with laser beams from her eyes.

Scarlett Johansson's escorting of Derek Jeter to last week's Microsoft party at Geisha House had the tabloids atwitter with possible breaking canoodling news, but one of our readers has already spotted her back with her homeless-chic snuggle-buddy:

Our fourth edition of Hollywood Holiday Cards features America's favorite family in all of their Yuletide splendor. Yes, it's been a rough year for the Hilton clan, but we're not going to rehash the sordid details of the myriad embarrassments visited upon Rick and Kathy by their sex-tape-doggystylin', N-bomb-droppin', quickie-Vegas-marryin' daughters.

A producer is suing megastars/former Pussy Posse cowboys Leonardo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguie for blocking the distribution of a film they did in 1995:

The third day of our Hollywood Holiday Cards feature spotlights what we consider to be the Mother of All Celebrity Season's Greetings: Tom Cruise's Scientology-pushing missive and "gift."

· If you're inviting boys over to the ranch to look at some harmless porno mags, always, always remember to wipe off the fingerprints. Off the magazine, sicky.
· A Stuff magazine web page inadvertently becomes a comparative study of Tara Reid's pre- and post-surgery breasts.
· The siren call of the Mystery Booty lures journalist Seth Mnookin to his eventual doom.
· We've never seen the show, but today's entry from the blog of two contestants seems to have a lot of people excited.
· "A Conversation Between Me and Pop Sensation Lindsay Lohan, In Which She Speaks In Song Titles From Her Latest Album."
· Don't judge: The holidays can be a very lonely time, and everyone deserves a little companionship. [via Screenhead]

It's always an incredible relief to discover that one half of your favorite celebrity couple may be pregnant with the other half's offspring, but there's still this incredibly tense period between the publicist's denial of the pregnancy and that first Entertainment Tonight confirmation that they're expecting, when Hollywood holds its collective breath and cattily whispers to itself, "Jesus Fucking Christ, she's really let herself go. Hope she's not headed to rehab!' Let's all cross our fingers and hope that Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck are having a baby, rather than the unsavory alternative.

Let's wrap up yet another scintillating edition of the Blind Item Guessing Game, before our inbox becomes any more laden with your enthusiastic replies. Bone up on One Helpful Blind Vice before moving on to the guesses:

Defamer is delighted to present the second installment of Hollywood Holiday Cards, in which we share the season's greetings of the entertainment biz's biggest stars and most powerful players with the world. Today, actor Paul Reubens offers his glad tidings in-character.

Wherein we invite our readers to take their interpretive weed-whackers to the linguistic overgrowth that humpy E! gossip green-thumb Ted Casablanca uses to obscure the identity of his weekly blind item. After a week off, Casablanca returns to the old blind item standby, the supposedly straight actor engaging in gay sex. Roll around in One Helpful Blind Vice:

Someone on Craigslist is trolling for Michael Jackson's overnight guests (strangely, in the TV/Radio Jobs section), or as most refer to them, "Neverland survivors":

Despite Lindsay Lohan's public re-education effort aimed at getting people to a) stop talking about her chest and b) stress that they are "real," they persist in being objects of fascination. (Our pet theory: She is the first movie star, ever, to have huge breasts. Well, at least the magical kind that grow naturally overnight.) Now, some troublemakers called Lohan Freestyle have penned a love song to America's most notorious rack, a song that will quickly overtake the internets and inevitably wind up blasting out of an Escalade near you. We already can't stop humming it.

· "However, since my involvement, the film has steadily moved away from the realm of fandom and more toward the realm of traditional Hollywood interests. It's not been ideal, in my opinion, but I did what I could when I could, and I stand by that work." Doom screenwriter Dave Callaham tries to appease the video game fans that will soon be calling for his head.
· If this "pitch party" is on the up-and-up, why do they keep (defensively) calling their industry attendees "REPUTABLE"?
· Eventually, Tara Reid's publicist will have no choice but to staple her client's mouth shut.
· Kirsten Dunst ingratiates herself to dreamy-eyed boyfriend Jake Gyllenhaal's mother enough to win Jake's hand in marriage. [via goldenfiddle]
· All lesbians should immediately send a thank-you note to Ashlee Simpson's creepy dad for not allowing her to ruin the edginess of their sexual preference forever.

It appears that Monday night's celebrity clusterfuck at Koi was even worse than the photos led us to believe. An operative reports on the scene:

If courting celebrities to confer some buzz upon your eatery or nightlife hotspot is an art, then Monday night's Hilton/Lohan/Simpson appearance at Koi was like Bob Ross taking a shit on a Jackson Pollack painting. And we're not even going to further cloud the analogy by mentioning that Fred Durst was there.

A spy offers a sneak preview of Kirstie Alley's upcoming Showtime abomination Fat Actress that indicates the the show is going to be far more cringe-inducing than we'd feared. If you manage to get past the part about "deep-throating a fudgesicle," you have a much heartier constitution than we do. We fainted dead away like a Southern belle succumbing to a nasty bout of the vapours the second our brain maliciously conjured that image.

How soon is too soon to joke about personal tragedy? We don't know if Tara Reid is ready to laugh about her epic, impromptu breast unveiling after over a month has passed, but her flack definitely isn't. Reid was a presenter on last night's Spike Video Game Awards, and her publicist fired off this angry e-mail when the show's producers pitched a gag involving The Tit Seen Round the World.

Defamer is proud to present Hollywood Holiday Cards, a (hopefully) recurring feature in which we share the warm holiday wishes of the entertainment industry's biggest players with the world.

· The Fug Girls turn their fashion hate-rays on the Harry Potter kids. Isn't puberty hard enough, ladies?
· OK, hot shot, pop quiz: You're shitfaced in the VIP section of a hot NY club, and your only two choices are waking up with the stink of whiskey and cigarettes permanently soaked into your freckled skin, or escaping to drunk-dial Fez in between vomiting fits. Yeah, we'd probably take the Colin Farrell option too.
· The MPAA takes a legal poke at BitTorrent. Good luck with that, Glickman.
· Defamer Employment quickie: Minister seeking "Christian fast typist/ writing ass."
· Maria Full of Grace, a musical in brief: Maria!/I've just met a mule named Maria/And she can down a grape/My mouth was left agape/Wow-ee.