We all know where Lindsay Lohan stands on the panty issue (resolutely against), but it's the exposed slits on her wrists that have fans of the hard-partying starlet legitimately concerned. What had begun as the occasional self-inflicted, hangover-distracting puncture wound covered discretely with a Disney character Band-Aid now appears to have graduated into a much harder to camouflage, full-fledged self-mutilation habit:

· Because we know you'd never speak to us again if we let a paparazzi photo of Lindsay Lohan's not-so-elusive naughty bits go by without a link, here you go (NSFW). We hope you feel just as dirty as we do.
Soggy illusionist/modelizer David Blaine plans on staging his next feat of incredible endurance with the help of Michael Jackson, with Blaine locking himself inside a 10-foot-by-10-foot Lucite box with Jackson, five Make-a-Wish kids, and a case of cheap wine for a week. Blaine is not expected to survive the stunt.
OJ Simpson's lawyer cordially invites the Goldmans to try and get their share of his client's Big Book Of How I Would Have Stabbed My Ex-Wife And Her Lover To Death money, but denies that the Juice has a secret place where's he's going to hide his cut.
Being a nerd desperate for one of the first PS3 systems is more dangerous than you'd think.
UCLA students: "Don't taser us!" Sure, now they say it.

In exchange for being named GQ's "Obsession of the Year," sometime actress Lindsay Lohan gave the magazine an exclusive look at what she does after completing her draining, nightly tour of Hollywood's hottest, most exclusive bathroom stalls, simulating her bedtime ritual for their photographer. Upon returning to her unfurnished lodgings (who has time to decorate with her schedule?) as the sun begins to rise, she ritualistically burns a tabloid accurately reporting her latest, hangover-related set absence, and becoming strangely aroused by watching her own image slowly incinerated, spends the next four to five hours writhing on a pile of glossies on a bare mattress before finally collapsing from exhaustion, where she remains until her call time has safely passed. Though thoroughly dehydrated when she finally rises in the mid-afternoon, she eagerly heads off to work to start the entire cycle anew.

Smelling money all over him in the aftermath of The Departed's success, Brad Grey lures Martin Scorcese into a four-year deal with Paramount, which includes the unique provision that the 'Mount can own half of any movie the director does for another studio while still retaining 100 percent of his soul. [Variety]
· Lindsay Lohan parlays her significant real-life experience of playing a victim on a variety of talk shows into a role portraying a more dramatic kind of victimhood in the psychological thriller I Know Who Killed Me. [THR]
After the firing of striking America's Next Top Model story editors, the WGA files unfair labor practice charges against Executive Producer Ken Mok's Anisa productions with the National Labor Relations Board. The Guild calls the action strike-breaking, while Mok claims that once they figured out how to force their IATSE-unionized editors to make their cast of skinny models seem remotely interesting, having writers around just seemed silly and wasteful. [Variety]
The FCC asserts that Hollywood can't say "fuck" and "shit" on the public airwaves whenever it wants, even when those words are mouthed by Cher and Nicole Richie at awards shows nobody cares about. [THR]
· Chastened by the historic fuck-ups of 2000 and 2004, the networks showed a new hesitancy to incorrectly project last night's election results. [Variety]

It seemed as if a curiously long interval had passed since the last time an overzealous, lead-footed celebrity photographer had induced Lindsay Lohan into a fender bender, temporarily leading us to believe that the paparazzi had collectively lost the edge that has made them the scourge of any star unlucky enough to drive their own luxury automobiles. But today's Rush & Molloy item about the actress's latest vehicular run-in has restored our faith in local guerilla photographers' willingness to dent the occasional bumper in pursuit of the perfect shot of their Benz-bound quarry:

• Last night, Brit celebrated by doing the same tourist crap your aunt does when she comes in from Jersey to catch a matineee of Beauty and the Beast: shopping at a Midtown Gap for $8 thongs and skating in Rockefeller Center. Presumably your aunt doesn't have a mysterious new paramour named Rudolph, though. [Hollyscoop]
  

· If you're looking for someone to keep you entertained throughout Election Night, our DC-based pals at Wonkette are posting projections (whether or not they're accurate is a story for another time) as fast as they get them, as well as dispatches about what bloggers are using to getting shitfaced at CNN parties. Head over and say hello. They'll be there all night.
· And as long as we're on the election tip, here's Idolator's video round-up of Rock the Vote's most awkward ads.
Alec Baldwin blogs an elegy for Tower Records, the much-lamented retail chain that's recently made Brett Ratner reflective about Hollywood's future.
The packaging of the screeners for Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth is made of biodegradable material that can be planted and grown into basil. Please insert your own joke about other studios similarly using packaging to reflect their content by wrapping their DVDs in human excrement.
· Vote Lohan! She parties exactly the right amount for someone her age.
· We can think of no better way to end the day than by bidding on your very own Britney and K-Fed divorce party! (Other than by getting wasted and watching election results on one TV while playing Guitar Hero II on another. But maybe that's just us.)

We can't even begin to describe the amazing wonders inside Dirty Blonde, Courtney Love's new memoir/diary/hemorrhage of random life detritus. The woman basically stopped just short of including a used tampon with every copy sold. Seriously. Anyway, expect more Love from us in days to come, possibly in the form of a daily Zen koan from everyone's favorite devout Buddhist. (Ex: "What would the rose do?/Would the rose hire a publicist?/Let's be mountain junkies and breed/satanic mall rats.") But for today, we thought we'd just reprint an excerpt from an email conversation between Love and one of her acolytes: the one and only Lindsay Lohan. After the jump, soak up the learning.

Stopping by Good Morning America this morning to support Bobby and to fulfill her biweekly quota of image-rehabilitating public appearances in which she assures the world that partying until 6 a.m. on a nightly basis has no deleterious effect on her work ethic, Lindsay Lohan claimed that she had never even seen the now-infamous letter from Morgan Creek head James G. Robinson informing the actress that all hangover-obscuring, exhaustion-related excuses for skipping work on Georgia Rule would no longer be tolerated, a missive read by roughly every living person in the entertainment industry within ten minutes of its publication on The Smoking Gun. We suppose it's possible that she never received it, as it was originally addressed to her temporary home at the Chateau Marmont, and not to a location where she spends the majority of her time. Accordingly, we'd suggest that any future employers needing to communicate urgent messages about unacceptable set absences have their letters delivered by hand to Lohan's favorite bathroom stall at Hyde, or to the emergency room at Cedars Sinai, the two places she'd most likely be found on days she misses her call times.

Best Week Ever directs us to the Amazon page for Ali Lohan's Christmas album, Lohan Holiday. Besides the requisite jokes about Lindsay's late-night habits, there's also this verse from their version of "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas":

• L. Lo admits that her whorey ways are inspired by Scary Sadshaw and her pals. Well, she is starting to look about 43.[Egotastic]
  

Because Steven Soderbergh's Che Guevara biopic jones couldn't possibly be satisfied by directing just a single film, he's doing two, The Argentine and Guerilla, with Benicio del Toro as the title character whose image you've long admired on the T-shirt racks of Urban Outfitters. [Variety]
Friday Night Lights easily outperforms the "ratings troubled" Studio 60 during its (alleged) one-week tryout in Studio's Monday night timeslot (with an episode titled "GIT'ER DONE," no less—is there no end to Aaron Sorkin's pain?). Draw whatever dire conclusions you wish about the fate of 60 based on this result, but know that at least NBC's online schedulers are still optimistic about the series' prospects of returning next week. [THR]
Wondering where your hilarious collection of Daily Show and Colbert Report YouTube clips have disappeared to? Ask Viacom, the company that isn't particularly interested in your enthusiasm for sharing your favorite moments from its shows. [Variety]
· The National Labor Relations Board issues a complaint against the Writers Guild for telling TV writer-producers not to cooperate with NBC Universal TV Studios' demands to produce webisodes until the studio agrees to start paying residuals. The Guild insists it's done nothing wrong, while NBC Uni is pleased by the NLRB's initial support of their desire to squeeze free work from their writing staffs. [THR]
Lindsay Lohan gets another chance to impress a new crew and co-stars with her professionalism, joining Keira Knightley in The Best Time of Our Lives, the story of Dylan Thomas' relationship with his wacky, gun-and-grenade-wielding friends. [Variety]

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, which we try to post several times per week. (Spaced out at utterly random intervals—the better to keep you all on your toes.) So send those suckers in, and send them often. Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let the world know about the time you spotted an alleged McChoking victim speeding down the 101.

The self-deputized Alcohol Beverage Control officers of TMZ.com have once again used their clever cover as celebrity-obsessed documentarians of the every entrance and egress of notable persons from local drinking establishments to spring a trap on the hotspot they've been assiduously monitoring for possible legal infractions, noting the presence of the 15-year-old "JoJo," allegedly a "pop tart" of some renown, at Hyde last night. Regrettably, a food-service loophole (undoubtedly the reason the venue offers its wholesome chocolate chip cookies) prevented TMZ from making a sidewalk jailbait-collar, but their camera-wielding citizen-deputies made a valiant attempt at salvaging the disappointing evening by shouting at Lindsay Lohan as she pulled away from the club, hoping to capture the kind of exclusive accident footage needed to adequately replace the clip they'd hoped to get of a teenager being jammed into the back of a police car.

• Nicole Kidman gets back at rehabbing husband with hot simulated sex. [Page Six]
  

Today's Page Six supplies this partial accounting of items left behind by Lindsay Lohan upon finally terminating her long-term, fun-filled residency at the Chateau:

· Want to see some old video of Quentin Tarantino hocking a loogey on MTV's Chris Connelly? Yeah, of course you do. Stupid question.
30 Rock's Tina Fey wonders if NBC parent company G.E. is eventually going to get upset about her working their products into her show. Yeah, we're guessing they're O.K. with it.
Lindsay Lohan learns an important lesson on why she should never have any interaction with her fans.
Unfortunately, our gearheaded brother site Jalopnik is unable to answer your questions about Jay Leno's car collection at this time.
· We're not exactly sure why, but we feel like ending today with Dogs in Jail is the right thing to do.

If you're struggling with the epic decision of what Hallowe'en costume to wear this year — slutty schoolgirl, slutty pirate wench, Paris Hilton... too many options! — then let the kind folks at Celebrity Baby Blog make your life easier. They've sifted through the annals of Hollywood parentage and come up with a short list of which stars and their progeny might make timely costumes, either to deploy with the aid of an actual child, or for you to force upon your most gullible, easily influenced friends.

· Vince Vaughn's lawyers would like the world to know that he and Jennifer Aniston are still as together as ever, and that they're ready to sue into oblivion the nasty gossips who claimed he made out with some cheap blonde in London. Unrelated: The Break-Up, available on DVD tomorrow!
Is Lindsay Lohan going to take a break from acting? Probably not, but that shouldn't stop anyone from quietly wishing she might disappear for a year.
Despite this apparent "job application", former NY Daily News JV gossip columnist Lloyd Grove swears he's not headed to the LAT.
If you've ever thought that Mr. T's decades-old mohawk-and-fifty-pounds-of-gold-chains look could use an update, here's your chance to make it happen.
We bet that if Tom Waits were to handpick one actress to do an entire album of his music, he would've picked Scarlett Johansson, too.
More K-Fed wish fulfillment: Househusband to be bodyslammed tonight on WWE Raw. Set your DVRs!

• Lindsay Lohan wants a break from whatever it is that she does for living. [MSNBC]