Blushing commitment ceremony participant Anna Nicole Smith and the main mensch in her life, Howard K. Stern, seemed to have taken the day off yesterday from their whirlwind mourning schedule in memory of her son Daniel; perhaps the two were solemnly atoning for a year's worth of opportunistic sins in a Dom Perignon-stocked catamaran off the coast of Nassau. In any case, the Anna Nicole circus is back in full force with its cast of payout-seekers, scoop-hungry editors, litigious ex-boyfriends and bumbling Caribbean law enforcement clowns. A round-up:
· Radar is reporting that People has purchased the photos of the couple's lucrative photo-op legally nonbinding hitching-at-sea for a cool $1 million, an expense the magazine justified by writing it off as another generous charitable donation to the worthy cause of eradicating poverty in Anna Nicole Smith. [Radar]
· Why would anyone in their right mind pay $1 million for a legally nonbinding hitching-at-sea? Because one photo has Anna Nicole holding her newborn wearing nothing but pasties. As if that wasn't enough of a cruel tease for hungry little Dannielynn, sources overhead Smith drunkenly asking her daughter, "Want some milk? Want a Viper? Like my body? TrimSpa, baby!!!" [Gawker]
· Smith, still in the Bahamas, was served with papers yesterday from the other creepy guy in her life, Larry Birkhead, who wants mother and daughter to return to LA immediately for paternity testing. The Royal Bahamas Police Force, meanwhile, is still not completely satisfied with Smith's private autopsy findings that son Daniel died of a methadone-and-antidepressants overdose, and are still pursuing several theories, including the, "Hey—let's drag this out and cash in on some more free publicity!" theory. [AP]

Michael Jackson's ex-wife, Debbie Rowe, has long held a giant chip on her shoulder against the singer, perhaps stemming from the time he snatched his placenta-covered daughter from between her legs and spider-scuttled along the hospital walls and out the window with the newborn. Rowe has been trying to reclaim legal custody of little Paris and her brother Prince in the years since she relinquished all visitation rights to Jackson in 2001, and Jackson in return filed suit against Rowe in 1994, claiming she "violated a confidentiality agreement." (Read: Blabbed about the seven-story, Donkey Kong-themed bunkbed room at Neverland Ranch.) Today, the two ex-lovebirds finally put their quarrels behind them:

We don't know how many of you showed up for yesterday's CourtTV.com chat with alleged Colin Farrell reverse-stalking victim Dessarae Bradford. We were there, however, and after hearing what Ms. Bradford had to say in her defense—which was a great deal, spread over the course of a marathon, two-and-a-half conversation—we must admit that everything we thought we knew about phone sex workers who interrupt the taping of late night talk shows to threaten world famous movie stars has been turned on its head. Only now do we have the complete picture: Farrell, titillated by well-publicized reports of Bradford's strap-on taming of a wild, bucking Baldwin, found her ad promoting the novelization of the encounter in a New York newspaper. At first, their telephone affair was a fun and flirty courtship; but soon, an increasingly wasted Farrell began to phone her obsessively:

Lingering Anna Nicole Smith confidante/protector /hourly-legal-fee-charger Howard K. Stern was interviewed by Larry King last night, during which the veteran broadcaster launched some confusingly worded softballs related to Smith's son's sudden death. (eg: "KING: You know, a lot of parents go through a lot of things when a child dies, including guilt. Is she feeling any of that this was my fault?"). Several new pieces of the puzzle emerged, most notable among them that Stern is claiming to be the father of Smith's baby daughter:

One would be hard pressed to find an (as yet) nonviolent, psychopathic celebrity stalker more committed to her craft than Dessarae Bradford. Having found herself on the receiving end of a restraining order against current obsession-object Colin Farrell after accosting the actor during a Tonight Show appearance, Bradford has taken it upon herself to gum up our local legal channels in an attempt at having it overturned:

Just in time for The Black Dahlia's opening weekend, a verdict and sentence was finally handed down in our own, shocking murder of an aspiring starlet—against Victor Paleologus, the man who lured Kristi Johnson to her death after he approached her at the Century City mall with promises of a part in a James Bond movie:

It's no secret that Brad Pitt and Angelina's security detail is among the most lethal and effective fighting forces on the planet. It's the kind of prestige unit Navy SEALs dream of graduating to, that they might one day join the best of the best in the stealthy stalking and neck-snapping of lurking paparazzi at Maddox's little league games. Nelson Mercado, 46, had his heart set on scoring the prestigious gig—so much so that he went so far as to masquerade as a DHS agent. He was arrested yesterday, and The Smoking Gun has the indictment:

Girls Gone Wild impresario Joe Francis has always been at the vanguard of the inebriated titty-flash industry, so it is probably with great pride that he can now lay claim to being the first person found guilty of breaching the new anti-kiddie porn laws set up by the federal government. The LAT reports:

For all of you who contributed flowers, candles, and Bloomingdale's gift cards to the makeshift sidewalk memorials outside Hyde, Guy's, and the Chateau Marmont last night, your generous spirit and prayers have been answered in the form of a luxury goods miracle: Lindsay Lohan's stolen Hermès handbag has been recovered in the Heathrow Airport parking lot.

As Paris Hilton explained in a call to Ryan Seacrest's radio show today, the single, citrusy cocktail that would go down in infamy for besmirching the failed pop starlet's otherwise immaculate reputation was the only thing swishing around in her stomach when police stopped her for "erratic driving." Having spent the better part of a lifetime attuning her senses to the needs of her own body, Hilton explained that she was merely gunning for the nearest In-N-Out burger to sate her hunger pangs—a rendezvous we now know was sadly not meant to be. That didn't stop the crack investigative team at the WOW Report from approaching the fast food franchise in an attempt at ordering up a side of exposé with their animal-style fries:

Just as the scales of party-whorelet media coverage threatened to tip too deeply in Paris Hilton's favor with reports of the heiress' untimely rendezvous with a salt-rimmed Breathalyzer, who should come trotting along with her own headline-grabbing police matter but Hilton's strawberry-patched nemesis, Lindsay Lohan, whom TMZ says is inconsolably distraught after a handbag allegedly containing $1 million in jewelry was reported stolen off her luggage cart at Heathrow Airport:

The Smoking Gun has obtained the mugshot of corpulent-uncle-to- the-Jackass-stars Vincent "Don Vito" Margera, which we've reproduced here for your nightmare-eliciting convenience. While sitting for his booking photograph, Don Vito keeps one eye firmly trained on the door at all times, steadfastly maintaining complete innocence of having fondled two teenage girls at a Colorado autograph signing. His famous nephew, Bam Margera, stands by him—eventually—saying in a recent interview with Skateboarding.com that it was a "bad move" on his uncle's part, having merely "tapped a boob during a photo," but then quickly downgrading it to "no tappage happening" after an unidentified male voice's off-camera protests managed to convince the moron nephew that he wasn't doing his uncle any favors with his potentially incriminating version of events.

Matt LeBlanc, as we well know, is the National Enquirer's willing bitch, eager to clamp down on their shiny, red ball-gags of divorce exclusives and first-person "The Night My Lap Was Attacked By A Runaway Stripper's Ass" tell-alls, in exchange for what we can only assume is the assurance that a manila envelope marked "M.L.'s 4 a.m. Vaseline Alley Surveillance Pics" remains permanently sealed. The woman to whom the ass in question belongs is now suing LeBlanc for defamation of character, for the ridiculous-sounding claims the Friends star made about her in a fishy interview he granted the Enquirer last year:

The Wicked Chops Poker blog has alerted us that a statement, along with a thousand white doves artfully adorned with red and black card suits, has been released from the windows of B/W/R, the publicity firm hired by widely contested former "Hollywood agent" Jamie Gold just moments after winning the World Series of Poker championship. As you may recall, for some reason, Gold's associate Crispin Leyser is suing for half of the $12 million winnings—the miscommunication might have something to do with the message Gold left on Leyser's voicemail, saying, "I promise you - you can keep this recording on my word - there's no possible way you're not going to get half after taxes."

Vincent "Don Vito" Margera, frequent victim of nephew Bam Margera's merciless pranksterism and an ideal candidate to be stuffed-canneloni'd to death by a Se7en-inspired serial killer, was formally charged today with "two felony counts of sexual assault on a child," after a boozy appearance Friday at an autograph signing event in Colorado resulted in allegations that he groped two underage fans:

Looking at the accompanying photo of Boy George reporting for his five-day community service sentence in lower Manhattan, we're reminded of that old joke, "How many photographers does it take to document a disgraced 1980s pop star repaying his humiliating debt to society?" (Answer: 25, and one cop pretending to protect his dignity while taking cameraphone pics to show his wife when he gets home.) According to reports, after less than an hour of shouts of "Over here! Boy! Boy, this way! Hold the broom up higher!" the singer finally snapped, shooting back "This is supposed to be making me humble. Let me do this, I just want to do my job," before officials sequestered him into a fenced off area, where the chunky Mr. Clean valiantly swept and carted imaginary garbage across a sanitation parking lot.

Many of you probably awoke this morning with the same, nagging question hanging over your heads: How are things going lately with Lou Diamond Phillips and his live-in girlfriend? We're sad to report, not so great:

As Michael Jackson continues to traverse the European countryside in his ongoing quest to find a chateau that can accomodate the amenities his growing family requires—Coca Cola-filled moats, child-safe play dungeons, what have you—his spokesperson in the U.S. has released a statement claiming the singer has discovered that a consort of his former attorneys conspired to put their client in the poor house:

Tax-evading reality TV star Richard Hatch has finally made it to his new prison home for the next 51 months, give or take a few for good behavior. And while his temporary internment facility, the Federal Transfer Center in Oklahoma, was nothing like they advertised in the brochures, we imagine the Federal Correctional Instutions at Morgantown will provide for a much more pleasant incarceration experience:

You have to admire CNN.com's Law Center's ability to dispense with all that high-minded "fact-based impartiality" the other legal news outlets so stubbornly cling to, and instead decide to sauce up a story about a disgraced, gay British pop star from the 1980s (no, not that one) with a headline so bitchy, it's practically pointing and cackling. It's a potent illustration of karmic payback, reminding us that even the most respected of CNN headline writers were once just impressionable youngsters, who never forgot when passionate fan correspondences to their cross-dressing musical heroes received nothing in return but a coldly worded form letter outlining how they could join the Karma Chameleons Fan Club for just $19.95.