Where Tom Cruise and Beyonce meet in the middle. Where Jennifer Anniston terrifies West Villagers with her half-speed biological clock. Where Jon Gosselin's girlfriend terrifies virginal high school boys. Where Andy's Dick's Little One speaks. Your Saturday Late-Edition Gossip Roundup:

  • Tom Cruise busted a move to Beyonce's "All The Single Ladies" when he saw her at her Staples Center concert in L.A. Poor Katie Holmes. This is the exact, precise, scientifically measured middle-ground between a touchdown dance and waving the rights to someone's soul in their face. Still, it's not nearly as bad as when he dresses the kids up and does "Defy Gravity" with them as the flying monkeys and him as Elpheba and makes her play the role of Steven Schwartz and scream at him from the audience, but still: pretty mean, you know? It's the wizard who should be afraid. Of me. [NY Daily News]

  • Speaking of gay tragedies, two stagehands died in a stage collapse at a Madonna concert, and French police are launching an investigation into it. She paid tribute to them in concert: ""You may have heard of it... When they were building my show in Marseille, where we're going next - we don't know why, but one of the cranes fell... Two men lost their lives, it was a great tragedy to me." [Daily Express]

  • And speaking of just straight-up tragedy, Hollywood producers are still total assmunches-yes, assmunches. There's no better word to describe the one behind Mischa Barton's newest film, as he's pissed that she went insane and had to be placed in the crazy house and is taking his frustration to the press. Honestly, dude, talk about loose marbles, you were the one who thought she was still bankable, first of all. Second of all, you're a dick. [NY Daily News]

  • Jennifer Anniston's new movie that she's filming with Gerard Butler is pissing off New Yorkers left and right. First, she annoyed Daily News staffers by getting in the way of them pissing. Now, she's getting in the way of West Village residents by getting in the way of their dogs pissing. The production manager on the movie is apparently a total meanie, and she won't return the calls of the sad West Village residents who don't like noise and things on their nice block because they paid a few milli to live there, you know? On that note, I hope someone pours Birdbath coffee in their ears or something silly because if I lived in the West Village I would basically be deaf to everything but the schadenfreude of broke muh's like me, which I would record and consequently play back at half-speed and remix it with, I don't know, Thievery Corporation or something and play it at my parties where I serve fried chicken canapes in my garden and bitch about how Design Within Reach is out of reach of poor people but too in-reach of me, which makes it basically the silliest design store ever, and who buys chairs in America anyway, really? Also, Jennifer Aniston is still painfully single and I still think "Daughters" is the best song ev-ar. [Page Six]

  • Jon Gosselin's new girlfriend was just a Drunkie McPlastered in high school: ""I remember on a school trip once, she got completely wasted," a source notes to E!. Okay, first: a source? Glad to know someone from E! is meeting in the basement of an Omaha parking lot or whatever and looking over their shoulder before being like, okay, tell me exactly how much of a floozie this chick was in high school, I promise: you will be protected. Also, you know she was that girl on the school trip who busted out the booze to the Mormon kids and taught them what Seven Minutes In Heaven was. SWOON. [E!]

  • JoJo Simmons-son of Rev. Run of Run D.M.C.-got a very small punishment for his pot bust and resisting arrest charges. When you're the son of a celebrity, it's like that. Don't ask me, because I don't know why. But that's the way it is. [NY Daily News]

  • The Hills' Lauren Conrad is deflating the fun behind Heidi Pratt's inflated assets to Playboy in an upcoming issue, noting that they're "not going to pay for themselves." No, Lauren, they certainly won't, especially if people are reading Playboy for the articles. Which, uh, everyone does, right? Also, plenty more smacktalk where that came from. "I don't call magazines and let them know about things so they can write stories." OHHH SNAP. STORIES, YO! Also, Conrad wore a burnette wig as a "social experiment," which is kind of like the Stanford Prison Experiment, but different, because it's a prison of the mind, man. [NY Daily News and E!]

  • The "Octomom" LadyThing had to take one of her 19 spawn to the hospital yesterday because he drank some kind of "salt based solution." [TMZ]

  • Cameron Diaz is convinced she has protective angels following her every move. What she doesn't understand is that agents' assistants actually get overtime and can expense jetpacks for this kind of thing. [Daily Express]

  • Michael Jackson's death is again a breaking point, this time for his sister, Janet, and her mans, Jermaine Dupri, who have now separated following Michael's death. I would write something funny here but I'm already sad for Jermaine Dupri because I feel like people forget just how awesome the "Money Ain't A Thing" video-Dupri's magnum opus-was. Also, now that he's no longer with Jackson, Money Will Most Definitely Be A Thing. [NY Daily News]

  • Really sad: Alan Ball watched his sister get killed in a car crash when he was younger, which basically explains all five seasons of Six Feet Under, and gives the first episode-where the family's patriarch is killed in a car crash on Christmas-entirely new dimensions. [Daily Express]

  • Andy Dick's son, Lucas, is far funnier than his Dad. Especially when he's slagging on him, like he did to his face at Caroline's the other night: "I'll come home to find a big party at our house and my father will be rolling around naked in ketchup on the floor, and I'll think, 'Oh yeah, it's Tuesday.'" There's an entire David Sedaris-esque career to be had, here, because this is both sad, hysterical, doesn't sound the least be true, and yet, more than likely is. We'll be watching you, Little Dick. [Page Six]