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A quick round-up of selected gossip column coverage of Oscar party carnage:

· A butched-up-to-within-an-inch-of-his-life Tom Cruise races his motorcycle to the Vanity Fair party at Morton's in jeans and a leather jacket, pounds down an In N Out Burger, and, presumably, high fives every dude in the party before talking to ex Penelope Cruz. Elsewhere, Scorsese's pals console him after his crushing defeat, and Desperate Housewives engage in the incredibly erotic proto-lesbian ritual of "toasting each other with milk and cookies." [Page Six]
· "I put the kids to bed. Someone called and said the party was rockin'," said Cruise at the VF bash. Cruise: motorcycle, leather, butch, etc etc. This time, practically engages in sexual congress with Cruz before (presumably) setting out to find a mechanical bull to ride. Also, Elizabeth Taylor does not die at Elton John's party. We are sent to a crushing defeat in our Oscar night dead pool. [Rush & Molloy]
· A victorious Clint Eastwood eats restorative "monkey bread" at Dani Janssen's super A-list geezer fest. Polident cocktails are quaffed, and no fractured hips nor uncomfortable Jack Nicholson "senior moments" are reported. A raging success in the shadow of the Reaper! [Page Six]
· Dressed as a cater waiter, Lloyd Grove infiltrates Koi's P. Diddy/Ron Burkle party, and discovers that Jamie Foxx had finally stopped his campaigning for the Oscar. Sean Combs shows blatant disregard for the venue's furniture. [Lowdown]