Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers, who never point and go "oooh oooh" when they see Cameron Diaz buying a cup of coffee in Beverly Hills. Send your sightings to tips@defamer.com and let the high-paid residents of Los Angeles know that you are always watching.
Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.
Calling all ethically ambiguous, bright young things! Gawker Media is looking for fresh meat. Come to the dark side and pursue the internship of your dreams: have drinks thrown on you by belligerent editors and get a byline credit for your work. Gawker.com is seeking interns who are available in NYC; Wonkette is particularly lonely (she's also kinda hot for someone with TV access throughout the day). We're also looking for interns who know a thing or two about the content of Gawker Media's other blogs (Gizmodo, Defamer, Fleshbot, Jalopnik, Screenhead, Kotaku). Interested applicants for Gawker.com internships should send resumes and cover letters to me at jessica@gawker.com; applicants looking for work with our other sites should send the same to darklord Choire at choire@gawker.com.
—Miramax morale report, quickie version: ex-Maxer calls the health department about human chimney Harvey Weinstein's indoor-smoking habit, but Harv passes the inspection.
—LAist interviews LA.comfidential's Laurie Pike, who's Cincinatti born but finds earthquakes "psychically cleansing." She belongs to L.A. now.
—Open All Night points out some mystery bruises on Pamela Anderson's arm. Is she into the rough stuff? She might be able to swap stories with Angelina Jolie. UPDATE: A reliable source informs us that Pan's "bruises" are birthmarks that are normally airbrushed/pancaked out of existence.
—Shameless cross-promotion department: Sister site Fleshbot goes from porn-enhtusiast to full-blown porn purveyor, as Fleshbot Films will release some truly weird Ed Wood erotic flicks.
1. Legendarily cantankerous grandaddy of all things Gonzo Hunter S. Thompson reads from and signs Hey Rube! Blood Sport, the Bush Doctrine, and the Downward Spiral of Dumbness, a collection of his ESPN.com columns, at Book Soup on Sunset. Chances are you're out of luck if you haven't already gotten in line, but Thompson would probably appreciate some resourceful party-crashing. We can't guarantee the Book Soup people will appreciate it, though.
2. Is this sufficiently surreal-sounding? Sally Field playing Laura Bush reading "The Legend of the Grand Inquisitor" to dead Iraqi children in a Tony Kushner play (Only We Who Guard the Mystery Shall Be Unhappy)? At the Ricardo Montalban Theater? On mushrooms? OK, there will most likely not be any mushrooms handed out, but we had a conceit to sell you.
3. Stay away from panic-stricken L.A. drivers until they adjust to the wet streets. You should be (relatively) safe again by Wednesday.
The Defamer correspondent on physical fitness files this dispatch from the Equinox gym in West Hollywood, where a troubled, talented actor nearly plunges over the B-list precipice by working out in the proximity of those further down the celebrity food-chain.
Friday
1. For some it’s a religion, for the rest of us, a form of entertainment: A Very Merry Unauthorized Children's Scientology Pageant at the Powerhouse Theatre opens tonight. We really hope the L. Ron squad doesn't show up to rough up the child actors.
2. Whoa, Duran Duran is everywhere! Boy, were we wrong about them being dead! You can meet them at the Virgin Megastore tonight.
Saturday
3. Bring style back into your life at the Mondo Lounge: “Where Cocktail Cultures Collide,” which is an event where “the lifestyle and culture of America from 1957 to 1963 and will bring together fans of Retro Fashion, Tiki, Exotica Music, Car Culture, Bachelor Pad Living, Swing Scene and Vintage Las Vegas Rat Pack era.” Or, if you're lazy, you can rent Swingers.
4. Attend the (BIG!) 18th Street Arts Complex 15th Anniversary Party in Santa Monica and reminisce about 15 years of being avant-garde, whatever that means. If you’re more of an Eastsider, check out the massive Brewery Artwalk happening downtown.
Sunday
5. Satirist extraodinaire/erstwhile blogging force Neal Pollack hits Skylight Books to support his novel Never Mind the Pollacks. We hear he's a big Bush fan, so make sure you ask him about that.
6. In the interest of giving them equal time, we'll let you know that the Church of Scientology presents the East Hollywood Community Street Festival on Sunday to convert hipsters, er, the ones with money, one at a time. Enjoy the horse and buggy rides, but whatever you do, don't let them talk you into grabbing on to those two metal rods. Trust us.
A reader heads to Campanile for their vaunted Thursday night grilled cheese special, but seems to have stumbled upon an impromptu sitcom actor's convention, with musical guest Duran Duran lending to the surreal vibe. We had to so some frantic Googling to determine that the Duran Duran members mentioned are actually still alive, but we're now confident that she may not have hallucinated the entire event. Her report is after the jump.
1. Jane's Addiction guitarist/MTV personality Dave Navarro is signing Don’t Try This at Home at Book Soup. When Dave signs your book, ask him who's the better kisser, Carmen Electra or Anthony Kiedis?
2. For studio executives: Avoid actually having to read Shakespeare by checking out Cheek by Jowl at UCLA, a modern staging of Othello. The next time it comes up in a pitch meeting you don't have to merely pretend that you understand a writer's Iago reference.
3. Help Jeff Zucker's self-esteem by watching some of the programming formerly referred to as Must See TV. Tomorrow, be prepared to answer two questions: Why is Joey a drooling mongoloid one second and a Chandler-like quipster the next? If you had to restart the human race from scratch, is there any way you wouldn't choose The Apprentice's tough-love icon Carolyn and fake-receptionist Robin as your personal Eves?
Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.
—Oliver Stone defends the hot, guy-on-eunuch action in Alexander, calling it a "more honest time" with "Pre-Christian morality." Whatever turns you on, Oliver. We're not going to judge.
—Amazing as this sounds, there are still no bids on a gas can signed by Jessica Simpson. She's officially over.
—Tale of the tattoo: Britney gets inked, then stiffs the artist on the tip. Also, she tells the Germans she wants to be "Britney Federline." Read at your own peril.
—Arnold Schwarzenegger tells the Hollywood Foreign Press that he's "learned [his] lesson" about groping women—you know, after the tenth or so time he cut himself on Maria Shriver's razor-sharp bones. [seventh item]
—Towleroad takes a very close look at Manhunt, and Nair is involved.
1. In what is sure to be the only televised event capable of dethroning ratings juggernaut Desperate Housewives from the Nielsen throne, the third and final presidential debate airs at 6 p.m. PST. We're confident that this time both candidates will be thoroughly frisked for radio transmitters that might assist their performance. But we suppose we'll never know if the technology manages to game the inspections.
2. The 5-day visual-arts/filmmaking party/throwdown that is ResFest LA begins tonight at the Egyptian.
3. Ageless wonders REM take the stage at the Greek Theater. Well, if you consider skinny, sallow rock stars to be "ageless," Michael Stipe certainly won't disappoint.
Just when we finally crawled through yesterday's wreckage for a few gasps of gossipy air, it's come to our attention that there are still "technical difficulties" to be had hither and yonder. Apparently, throwing Monopoly money at our Server Gerbils doesn't ensure proper service across the board. Who knew? Our sincerest apologies; should you experience problems with the main site, do redirect your browsers here, where we'll be dumbing down your day per the usual methods.
1. Legendary Bingo at Brasserie les Voyous is a charity bingo night that includes such, ahem, legends as French Stewart, Taylor Dayne, and Ann Magnuson. Hey, it's for charity—they might as well call them "well-hung Oscar winning demigods" if it helps put fannies behind the bingo cards. Well, the ladies might not appreciate that, but you get the idea.
2. Tonight at the Museum of Television and Radio, longtime Defamer nemesis/crazed, chief MPAA pirate hunter Jack Valenti will take a stroll through memory lane and his life in politics with always-entertaining moderator James Woods. Tomorrow, we expect reports on Valenti's digressions into the time he shook a 15-year-old who illegally downloaded American Wedding so hard that Valenti had to have hip replacement surgery.
3. For you concert-attending pleasure: Wait for one of Badly Drawn Boy's signature on-stage meltdowns at Avalon; Space rockers Cave In play the Troubadour; G. Love and Special Sauce serenade sorority girls and the frat boys trying to get in their Abercrombie minis at the Ford Amphitheatre.
Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our eagle-eyed, actor-stalking readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com and let Harry Hamlin know you think he's extremely unsettling to look at from distances of less than thirty feet.
Thanks for bearing with us during the painstaking process of flaying the skin off the people responsible for our hosting woes, parading it around Los Angeles like an Ugg poncho, and then finally returning to work. As far as we know, Michael Eisner did not send a team of Disney castmembers to brutalize our servers like a kid that wants one too many Polaroids sitting in Mickey's lap.
A pharmacologically-assisted tipster encounters one of Defamer's favorite subjects out for some lunch at Hollywood's legendary house of hot dogs, and, fortunately, escapes without a lecture. We don't suggest that the public use illegal substances while celebrity-spotting, as face-recognition processes may be impaired. (If one plans to engage a celebrity in actual conversation, then we advocate as much drug abuse as necessary to survive the mind-meltingly inane chat that will certainly follow.)
If you're seeing this post right now, consider yourself one of the lucky elite (just like aSmallWorld, but unintentional!). Network Solutions, Gawker Media's lovely provider, has essentially crapped its techie pants and we're just sitting here, watching ice dilute our Bloody Marys. Gawker can more or less be found here in the meantime and, of course, we'll do our best to provide you with some work-avoiding content whenever we're actually able to do so.
