· Coco Cox Arquette is plunged into baptismal waters; amazingly, she still stays crispy.
· Please, if we link to this story, don't e-mail us asking if it's true. OK? Here it is: Brad Pitt Establishes Angelina Jolie Rumors Hotline.
· The LAT makes sweet, sweet newspaper profile love to blogger/tech-goddess/alien being Xeni Jardin, whom we predict will one day disappear into the internet and become as ubiquitous to our web-browsing experience as Microsoft's paper clip is to office drones trying to format a business letter. We mean that in the best possible sense, of course.
· Today's top news headline probably written by a publicist: Cruz's New Roles Combine Beauty and Brains. (Mastery of English is optional, of course.)
· Ex-publicist: Jackson licked boy's head. We can't even bring ourselves to read this one.

· Hey, did you know that most movies nominated for a Best Picture Oscar don't actually win? We know! In a totally unrelated To Do item, the Great To Be Nominated screening series will show a different film each Monday night at the Samuel Goldwyn Theater for the next 18 weeks, showcasing Best Picture nominees that accumulated the most Academy Award nominations in all categories in a particular year, but did not ultimately win the big one. Got that? Tonight's entry is The Grapes of Wrath, the Okie-baiting masterpiece from 1940.
· Pulitzer-winning LAT automotive critic Dan Neil puts his award where his mouth is with a free lecture about design at UCLA’s Perloff Hall. Anyone can attend, not just the kids reaping the benefits of California's fine higher education system.
·The ninth annual City of Lights, City of Angels festival is a week of French film premieres at the DGA theater, right here in our own little city, with no intercontinental travel required...except in your mind. We heartily recommend you visit the festival's website, where a pinwheeling graphic is surely trying to activate some kind of post-hypnotic suggestion that will render you unable to resist the charms of French cinema.
· Garbage plays the Wiltern. Should you attend, expect Scottish rocker/pixie Shirley Manson to haunt your dreams forever.

'Tis the season when the great, chain-link gates of higher education open and release thousands of innocent young things into the rat race. This has led to the inevitable influx of unsolicited internship inquiries to slaveship Gawker and, for those of you who are so woefully misguided as to express interest in lending a hand, a few tips:

· The Feh blog answers accusations that their infamous "Salma- Hayek-in-a-John-Kerry-mask- mopping-an-overflowed-toilet-at-Penelope-Cruz's house" photo is a fake with...a picture of Cruz brandishing a mop! Mopping is fun when you're doing it recreationally!
· Absolutely, positively do not click through and read this unless you're willing to have your mind blown by perhaps the scariest species of superfan on the planet, the Clay Aiken worshipper.
· Our favorite part of Ashlee Simpson's concert rider: the "ubiquitous deli platter with appropriate condiments." My God, Ash, how can you possible leave your condiment choices up to the discretion of the venue personnel? What if they've never heard of chipotle mayo? You're courting disaster!
· Not everyone thinks being humiliated by Ashton Kutcher's B-team is so much fun. Future Punk'd victims: If Kutcher isn't going to bother to show up himself to hug you in his big, strong arms and tell that you that everything's gonna be OK, don't sign the release form. [scroll down to "Punked by Proxy"]
· This is one of the most unintentionally hilarious headlines we've ever seen.

Friday
· Margaret Cho performs an intimate comedy show at the Wiltern. We haven't check in with her in a while. Is she still doing jokes about that sitcom she had?
· Noisy art-rockers Deerhoof begin their two night stand at the Echo. Oh, these whippersnappers are always giving us a headache with the loud rock-n-roll. Dadgummit.
Saturday
· We know you love yourselves some rummage sale. Throw in a charitable cause, and how are we going to stop you from blowing your entire paycheck on old stuff? Hollywood Heart's sale in Burbank helps finance the non-profit's education, arts, and recreation programs for at-risk youth, so go ahead, live a little.
· KXLU DJs are turning up at the opening/book release party of Veronqiue Vial's photo collection An American in Paris at Glu. Sweet Jesus, we feel so uncool even pondering the hipster orgy we'd love to pose our way through.
Sunday
· Kink N Drink at King King: Porn stars, charity, Ron Jeremy, getting people off crystal meth—you sort it out. But sounds good!
· Because the Lakers have let you down in profound ways and you need to lash out: Clippers forward Bobby Simmons will be at the Hollywood Sprint Store on Sunset Blvd (near Western), signing basketballs, kissing babies, and meeting fans.

We know pause to nod knowingly and appreciatively in the direction of this week's sponsors, without whom we'd probably be forced to roll Pat O'Brien's filthy phonecalls for a living. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer and get all "jiggy" with the world's most "jiggable" consumers, see this page.

Special thanks to this week's sponsors, who hold our hands when we need it the most. Interested? More info here.

· What's next, Oscar the Grouch going on Paxil? Are Ernie and Bert going to stop bathing together? Will Snufalapagus stop staring deeply into our eyes and cease delivering subliminal messages telling us it's OK to hit the mailman with a frying pan because he's secretly reading The New Yorker short story before we get to it? We fear all is lost.
· Is it just us, or is Wilmer Valderrama wearing clown shoes? If those shoes are full, that might explain many, many previously troubling things about his dating history. Also: The Glorious Ladies of Fug make us laugh.
· Nick and Jessica's tabloid troubles, now in Mad-Lib form. Yay for marital strife!
· Red Sox fans have something new to complain about: After this weekend, when Fever Pitch is released, they'll never know if someone in a Sox cap is a fan of David Ortiz or Drew Barrymore.

· Jane Fonda turns up at Book Soup to sign copies of her autobiography, My Life So Far, and answer all of your well-considered questions about Vietnam, three-ways, and what it was like to recently co-star with Jennifer Lopez's ass in the forthcoming Monster in Law.
· If you can find a buddy to hold your spot in front of The Line for Star Wars, you can audition for the Independent Film Channel’s Film Fanatic Challenge by just showing up at the Bonaventure Brewing Company downtown from today through Saturday. Come on, give it a shot, you'll still have a good forty days or so to model the hair shirt of fandom in front of the Chinese. [eighth item]
· Because it wouldn't be a To Do list without some specially-chosen concert listings: Hot Hot Heat do an in-store at Amoeba (free, unless you count the money you drop on used CDs); The Soundtrack of Our Lives play Swedish-flavored rock and roll at the Viper Room; a reader assures us that you will enjoy the Irish-y punk of The Dirges at Molly Malone's, Fairfax Avenue's home of Irish-y punk.

Two reports of unchecked celebrity activity at last night's Staples Center U2 shows rolled in this morning. This time, some intrigue in the VIP-heavy front section of the concert: Why couldn't John Cusack get a backstage pass on his own? Are those Entourage kids (and Jeremy Piven) really there to shoot footage for the show, or were they engaged in some kind of semi-elaborate ruse to reach the rarefied air of the front row that their semi-celebrity alone would not allow them to breathe? Why does Jon Bon Jovi have such incredible skin, and why is Orlando Bloom draped in chicks? These issues and more addressed below:

· Nicole Kidman is so greedy. What's wrong with the kids she has with Tom Cruise? The fact that Cruise could at any moment detonate the explosive implants the Scientologists installed in their heads if they ever leave the fold is no reason to make them feel like they're not enough for her.
· Sean Penn's so exhausted from shooting All the King's Men that he's going to take a couple of years off from Hollywood. During the hiatus, he'll lose entire days dreamily tracing the scar tissue where he carved Chris Rock's name on his stomach after the Oscars, wondering why everyone thinks he has no sense of humor.
· Fametracker mulls possible titles for Britney Spears' reality show on UPN. We have only one suggestion: Crabs.
· Say what now? Who?
·“I looked up ‘maverick’ in the etymological dictionary, and it basically was a kind of cattle that had been owned by somebody named Maverick that had not been branded. And so I believe the poetry of it is somebody that’s unbranded.” FilmStew talks to Crispin Glover.

· Tonight at Ivar, 10 actors risk humiliation and the instant obliteration of their promising careers as they compete in front of celebrity judges (including Andy Dick, Sarah Silverman, and some agent and studio types) in the Manhattan Monologue Slam. The winner is flown to New York to compete against the East Coast competition's winner, while the losers...well, let's just say they've all kissed their families goodbye before the event.
· Page Six says Orlando Bloom, Adrien Brody, Robert Downey Jr., Gina Gershon and Jeremy Piven will be at Forty Deuce tonight to launch the Bravo TV series (Forty Deuce, duh) tonight. So if the publicist who told them that turns out to be wrong, direct your hate mail directly to the Sixers.
· Author Michael Joseph Gross signs his book Starstuck at Book Soup, a memoir examining the relationship between fans and the celebrities they adore. Several celebrities will be on display in Lucite cages for better illustration of the book's principals. OK, not really, but we're sure a handful of 20s and a quick sweep through the lobby of the Standard could make it happen.

Because the public's unslakeable thrist for celebrity sightings cannot possibly be sated by one huge post on a Wednesday afternoon, we offer two reader reports of the stars in attendance at last night's U2 show at Staples Center:

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com and let the world know where Orlando Bloom walks his dog.

Gawker Media's latest baby has kicked its way out of the incubator and escaped into the wild. This morning marks the launch of Sploid, a news site for people who feel dirty after reading Drudge, but wish to feel dirty in new, exciting ways during their news transmission. In the words of Evil Blog Overlord Nick Denton, the man who signs our paychecks while paddling us with a Louisville Slugger:

· Hey, free Botox! But you've got to bring a friend who's willing to pay full price. That's OK, getting paralyzing toxins injected into one's face is an inherently social activity.
· We've been assured by a reliable source that yes, this is indeed a photo of Salma Hayek mopping a floor while wearing a John Kerry mask, not some Dadaist Hollywood prank.
· Deep-thinking blog Malis in Wonderland brings up an excellent point.
· Is it juvenile to point out that an article on indecency jumps onto page 69? Probably, but go ask Cinemocracy just to make sure. (And while you're there, tell him to get that enormous banner under control.)
· Well, what else do you suggest they do with Hunter S. Thompson's ashes?

· When the ArcLight isn't at the center of a war involving Star Wars fans with a queuing fetish, they occasionally screen movies and host question-and-answer sessions with people involved with the films. Tonight, they're showing The Brady Bunch Movie and producers Sherwood Schwartz & Lloyd Schwartz will field some questions about Gary Cole's kinky fright-wig.
· Thespiancentric film festival Method Fest continues tonight in Calabasas. Just try and get some decent service at a bar or restaurant tonight, we dare you.
· A token attempt at a well-rounded selection of shows: Dizzee Rascal at the El Rey; Drive-By Truckers at Amoeba (free, yo! get there early); the art-damaged stylings of Fischerspooner overtake Cinespace for their CD release party.

· Attention J.Lo stalkers—proximity to her world-famous hindquarters is merely $1K away. Jane Fonda fans, the same deal applies.
· Britney Spears hires a Kabbalah rabbi to save her marriage...and if that doesn't work, she'll slip him two grand to make sure his "light is extinguished."
· Xeni Jardin, BoingBoing blogger and sexpot Wired reporter sent from 15 minutes in the future to send back information about our inferior technology to some alien race, does the LAist interview. She is so very shiny, and we love her so.
· Q: Why are these people lining up in front of the Chinese Theatre in anticipation of the new Star Wars movie, when the theater hasn't even officially announced that it's showing the movie yet? A: Because they are more hardcore than your typical bunch of Boba Fett-worshipping fanboys, and don't you forget it. And you know what else? They're answering the pay phone.
· Headline of the day: Statutory Rape Not So Good For Gap. Not yet, anyway.

· Monday Evening Multimedia Collage Special: The Red Cat hosts Panorama Ephemera, an exhibit by artist Rick Prelinger, who will appear in person to explain it all.
· Music-related concerts of interest: The Jimmy Chamberlin Complex, featuring former Smashing Pumpkins skin-smasher, ahem, Jimmy Chamberlain, play the Troubadour; Ed Harcourt performs at the Hotel Café; also: someone named Moby plugs his new CD, Hotel, at the W Hotel. Afterwards, he will retire upstairs to perform turndown service for all the W's guests as part of his high-concept promotional tour. (It's a free show, btw.)
· Patton Oswalt, whom we are contractually obligated to mention once nearly made us vomit from laughing Paul F. Tompkins tries to induce a similarly joyful puking fit in the audience at M Bar. (Thanks to the reader who pointed out the error, and who also pointed out there's a great show at Largo with Sarah Silverman as well.)

We got a lot of email on Friday like the following: