To fully hammer home just what it was that The Bachelor's Brad Womack was forfeiting by dangling his unfathomable hunkiness before 25 single women only to cruelly snap it away at the last moment, the show's producers trotted out the sole two successful romantic pairings from the series and its spinoffs: The Bachelorette's Trista and Ryan, holding the Baby That Reality TV Made, and Season 6 Lesser Hunk Byron Velvick and chosen contestant Mary Delgado, who sported a sparkling engagement ring and gushed lovingly that she "[loves] this man so much that I have fallen in love with the sport that he loves." Later that night, Delgado would find herself behind bars for assaulting the professional bass fisherman of her dreams:

If that were Spears's only legal problems—Louis Vuitton has just won a case against Sony BMG and MTV Online in Paris civil court, ordering them to "stop broadcasting or marketing the video for 'Do Something' in any form and fined them 80,000 euros ($117,000) apiece" for using the luxury goods manufacturer's "Cherry Blossoms" signature pattern on the dashboard of the pink Hummer she drives through the clouds in the video from a single off her 2004 greatest hits compilation. Some "Do Something" Video Fun Facts: It was the singer's directorial debut, credited under the pseudonym "Mona Lisa," and #6 on AOL's The Worst Music Videos Ever!, a list obviously compiled long before "Gimme More"'s video envisioned the singer's lackadaisical run-in with a pole coated in a generous amount of Turtle Wax-brand Stripper Butter.

If you came to Californication without knowing much about the Showtime series, you'd be forgiven if you'd have expected the familiar Red Hot Chili Peppers song "Californication" to play under the show's titles; failing that, you'd think at least some reference to the band's hit 1999 album of the same name might figure into the action or back story. As it turns out, however, no permission from the band was secured by the network or the show's creators, who merely saw in the lexical hybrid a catchy, succinct term covering the shows primary themes of fucking and life in Southern California.

The Tudors' star Jonathan Rhys Meyers, whose rider calls for the accompaniment of an AA sponsor, has apparently tumbled off the wagon, having been charged yesterday with "public drunkenness and breach of the peace" at the Dublin Airport. In the boozy, line-blurring haze of the moment, the actor swore he'd have "every present officer's head lopped off in the public square just as soon as I'm done invading Spain!" [AP]

A judge has issued a $30,000 civil warrant against Oprah Approved™ Dr. Jan Adams—Kanye's mom's surgeon—for having failed to show up to a hearing today, as he has yet to pay the $100,000 settlement against a patient in whom he accidentally left a sponge. While the autopsy reports have yet to be filed for Donda West, we think Dr. Adams' can kiss any shot at making it into Los Angeles magazine's Best L.A. Doctors issue goodbye. [TMZ]

What a truly wonderful world it is in which we live, where a Siberian stripper can come to America, work her way up the pole to the point where she's performing a champagne room command performance for the likes of Oscar de la Hoya, spend 24 hours in a Philadelphia Ritz-Carlton room during which she snaps the welterweight champion enacting his deepest fishnets-and-pumps-wearing desires, sell said photos to a hungry paparazzi agency for $70,000, and then—and this is the real coup de grâce—turn around and sue de la Hoya for $100 million for allowing the boxer to convince her not to shoot higher with her asking price. From the Reuters report:

Trailing the troubled starlet jail-time land speed record set by Nicole Richie in August of this year by two minutes, Lindsay Lohan checked in and out of the the Century Regional Detention Facility in Lynwood this morning in a still-respectable 84 minutes, after being denied parole at the 37-minute mark. By the time the broken actress was retrieved mid-push-up from her solitary confinement cell, its walls covered in bundles of striked-out scratches counting down the long minutes to her release, any remnants of the Lindsay we knew were all but drained from her once vibrant, if glassy, eyes. We've included the notorious cokepant-wearing Denalijacker's mugshot, in which she looks suspiciously full-lipped and tan for someone on the inside; then again, it's amazing what you can accomplish by bribing a guard to punch your in the mouth and bathing in smuggled orange Kool-Aid.

"He knows in his heart he is totally innocent of these charges and believes in the jury system," O.J. Simpson attorney Yale Galanter said yesterday upon learning his client would stand trial for the now-infamous shit-recovery armed ambush of two sports memorabilia dealers in a third-rate Las Vegas hotel room. And while we have no doubt Galanter is at this very moment frantically scribbling down and crossing out potential catchphrases on a legal pad ("If the gun don't load, it can't explode!"), Simpson is clinging to the sunny side of life, even chatting up his fellow Delta passengers on a recent flight of Las Vegas to Fort Lauderdale. Reports a Page Six source:

We now have a name and a face to attach to the surgeon who performed the tummy tuck and breast reduction that would lead to Donda West's death: It was Beverly Hills cosmetic surgeon Dr. Jan Adams, whose website says, "My work has never simply been about giving someone a new look. It's about providing an individual with a new path to self-discovery and self-esteem." Apparently it's also about getting as much TV coverage as possible, as he's made "countless appearances" on "Oprah and Entertainment Tonight, CNN, E!, NBC, ABC and the Discovery Networks," in addition to being one of the four panelists on The Other Half, aka Dick Clark's The View with Prostates. TMZ has been all over this guy today, turning up a long list of DUIs, malpractice suits, claims of botched boob jobs and that he lied about his credentials, and license suspension proceedings. They also report that Donda's surgery lasted 8 hours, or twice as long as usual for her procedure.

A Hollywood tribal feud no less contentious than writers vs. producers is the one brewing for well over a century now between celebrities and paparazzi, the first documented incident of which involved Mary Pickford launching a half-eaten pomegranate at the head of a Movieland Tattler illustrator caught sketching the actress's unflattering likeness in her garden. The war rages on, as Keanu Reeves finds himself the defendant in a lawsuit filed by a paparazzo claiming the actor struck her with his Porsche last March:

The Smoking Gun, your one-stop celebrity mugshot superstore, has come through once again, being first up with Shia LaBeouf's post-Walgreens incident booking photo. Our first reaction was one of concern—did the abandonment of his signature Guido hairstyle suggest he'd ceased to care about even the most basic grooming rituals? Upon further reflection, however, we concluded the actor's sly grin suggested less a flippancy regarding Chicago drunken-pharmacy-lingering laws, but rather a genuine giddiness over his newly sprouted facial hair. Shia'll be just fine. [TSG]

Such is the price of Biggest Movie Star in the World fame: When any of us mortals get blitzed over the weekend, then develop a sudden hankering for 50%-off Halloween candy, refusing to leave a nearby pharmacy until an employee submits to our drunken requests to check the store room for any stray bags of bite-sized Whatchamacallits (a confectionary stand-off that results in an arrest on misdemeanor trespassing charges), the shameful tale never extends much further than our immediate circle of hyperventilating-with-laughter friends. In Shia LaBeouf's case, however, a similar scenario will instantly make worldwide headline news:

Rather than take matters into his own omnipotent hands by calling down a bolt of righteous lightning from the Southern California skies to smite the man who recently plundered his treasure trove of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull secrets and tried to sell them on the internet black market, Hollywood deity Steven Spielberg allowed the local justice system to punish the thief, who pleaded guilty yesterday to his crimes against cinematic archaeology:

In noting yesterday that Geisha House and Ketchup mastermind Mike "Boogie" Malin had spent 15 hours in a Denver jail cell after allegedly assaulting a waitress while catching the fourth game of the World Series at a local sports bar, we realize we had nothing by way of hard evidence—no stained foam fingers, no eyewitness accounts of viciously administered wet-willies, not even a booking photo—by which to back up our claims. Fortunately, the mugshot-procuring-professionals at The Smoking Gun quickly came through with this handsome addition to the walls National Celebrity Mugshot Gallery, with its signature feature—an enigmatic, demi-smile—suggesting unfettered glee over the Red Sox's recent win tempered by a healthy dose of sheepish, waitress-groping regret.

The Lane Garrison legal saga found a measure of closure today, a judge having decided that 40 months in jail was a suitable sentence for the Prison Break actor's cokey-boozy bender that ended in the death of Beverly Hills High School student Vahagn Setian. From the AP report:

Accused of raping a woman he lured to the Bahamas, other women are now coming forward to tell of their own experiences being cherry-picked from David Copperfield's audiences for backstage Q & A and photographing sessions, with one sharing a (completely innocuous yet entirely creepy) voice mail left by the magician, proposing a "very interesting opportunity for you." [TMZ]

If you've truly given up all hope of living a productive and meaningful existence, we guide you now to AccessHollywood.com's live feed from the court steps of today's Spears-Federline custody hearing, where you can spend the next hour or so listening in on Tony Potts and Girl with Star-Shaped Microphone submit to an explosive bout of verbal, Britney-speckled diarrhea. Once you've sated yourselves with their insights, you can then continue onto similarly fulfilling activities, such as follicle-by-follicle pubic depilatory sessions and seeing how many canned olives you can eat before puking.

Call it a curse, call it a lack of fulfilling leisure activities in Hawaii, call it the stress of never getting to speak any of your lines in English—the cast of Lost has claimed yet another DUI:

Until only recently, the greatest mystery surrounding David Copperfield was how he successfully managed to put Claudia Schiffer under a magician-lusting trance for six years. But with recently surfaced accusations of rape and an FBI raid in which they seized computer equipment and nearly $2 million in cash, legitimate questions have begun to arise over whether there's something far more sinister afoot here than a mere penchant for blousy clothing and a suspected Just For Men addiction. In the wake of the controversy, meanwhile, Copperfield's upcoming Southeast Asian tour has been canceled:

Rejecting a plan to reinforce his white trash bonafides by marrying a 1974 Pontiac GTO sitting atop cinderblocks on a patchy lawn in an economically depressed suburb of Detroit, Kid Rock instead opted to brawl in the parking lot of an Atlanta-area Waffle House this weekend, an altercation that earned him a misdemeanor battery charge and one of the better celebrity mugshots we've seen. Sure, he may be playing it cool, but that smile barely masks the pain of watching his ex-old lady shack up with the Paris Hilton sex tape guy. [AJC.com]