1. Are you ghettofabulous or not?
2. Pictures of the Fox/CNN billboard war on Sixth Avenue.
3. America's first — and most disturbing — supermodel, Janice Dickinson, offers free advice to the Olsen Twins on the occasion of their 18th birthday this weekend.
4. Inside the Paris Hilton.

Sightings are provided by stalkettes like you: send them to tips@gawker.com.

Good gravy, it's apparently gossip columnists interview week. The Daily hits on NYDN columnist Ben Widdicombe:

New York playwright Eve Ensler, author of "The Vagina Monologues," has sure ridden that vagina a long way. Now she's using the power of the vagina to appeal to women to chose which dick to vote for this year. Salon's Rebecca Traister describes Ensler's Monday night pro-pussy rally:

Hey, everyone in Manhattan? Remember how you're smarter than the rest of the country, and that's why you live here? Try to keep that in mind when you forward lame hoax impending-terrorism emails around town, thanks.

1. The email diary of an embittered investment banker. (We'd like a copy of the whole email he's circulated, please!)
2. The Male Celebrity's Guide to Public Man-Hugging Without Seeming Gay and Possibly Jeopardizing Your Career.
3. Mayor Bloomberg and his Operation Sh.
4. What would happen if the Sunday Styles posse took over the NYT front page?
5. Courtney = Court-date.
6 New Yorker writer Ben McGrath reveals he was neither cool nor a glee club singer at Yale. He did, however, attend Yale, still a strike against him. (And it was like, last week, too.)
7. An outrageous confluence of celebrity sightings.

A reader sends in this account of a recent, real-life encounter with everybody's favorite borderline sociopath, Larry David. When he's not out saving dudes from bum murder raps, he's engaging in some kind of weird street theater with his family.

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com and let them know they are far safer just getting dinner delivered.

First he came for the smokers, and I was not a smoker, so I said nothing. Then he came for the Mister Softee trucks, but I was not an ice cream man. Who will be next in Mayor Bloomberg's campaign of peace? Blogger Dana on neglected targets of the Bloomberg noise assault:

· Everyone thinks blushing bride-in-beige Jennifer Lopez is preggers, presumably by another human. [NYP] Related: J.Lo changes PR team, ditching Rob Shuter for Leslie Sloane. [NYDN]
· Michael Musto on the Tonys: "In the wildly nostalgic 2003 4 season on the Great White Way, African Americans were represented by a maid, a slave, street urchins, a downtrodden ghetto family, and an ape. You've come a long way, baby!" [V.V.]
· Subway model-shooting increases value of artwork of shot models. (Seriously.) [NYP]
· Does Hamptons hotspot Jet East keep rat-infested servant quarters? [NYP]
· As we heard, Eminem's ass will be excised from the MTV Music Awards. [NYDN] Related: [Defamer]

· The Atkins Center on East 55th Street is becoming... a Kabbalah Center. That just about sums up the American cultural experience of the last few years. [NYM]

· Actor B.D. Wong becomes the gay divorcee. But what about little adopted Foo? [NYP]

· Nancy Moonves, the ex-wife of CBS head Les Moonves, won't even watch CBS anymore. How can she stand to miss all of that "Everbody Loves Raymond"? [NYDN]

· Page Six asks: Which celebrity couple's marriage might have been doomed by fast living, three-ways, and coke? Uh, could ya give us a hint on that blind item? Narrow it down a little? [NYP]

Australian potty-mouth Ben Widdicombe's gossip column debuted this weekend in the Daily News. His weekend competitor over at the NY Post, the urgently in need of a name-ectomy Elisa Lipsky-Karasz, had her lead evidently a bit mangled in edits. But more importantly: what'd they bring and how'd they bring it?

Sightings are provided by readers: send yours to tips@gawker.com

Don't be scared of all the dirty words. Throw us some cash and reach the bestest readers in the world. Info here. Thanks this week to:

1. American Media head David Pecker takes out full-page NYT ad, trumpeting Star's figures over Us Weekly. I'm sure Jann appreciates the sentiment, but if you're going to spend 150K to wave some pecker in his face, it had better be a little prettier than that.
2. "Literary critic" Dale Peck gets hated on during BookExpo in Chicago. Why should Chicago be any different than any other town?
3. V Steakhouse: poor Jean-Georges, from hot to not in weeks.
4. A recovering Phish fan reminisces.
5. Maybe Daniel should get made over as Alec at the Baldwinization Center.

Thanks to this week's sponsor, who makes sure the Ramen noodles that we subsist on are of the Top variety. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer, send an email to advertising@gawker.com.

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· Still looking for somewhere to summer? Joan Kennedy (ex-wife of big Ted) puts her digs at Hyannis Port up for rent. For just $50k, you can have a 12 rooms and a month of the Kennedy curse. [NYP]
· Not a facial tic in sight at recent parties celebrating various Botox-friendly books; drinks thrown at "America's first supermodel" Janice Dickinson merely rolled off of her smooth and impenetrable forehead. Also: Richard Avedon? Not dead. [NYT]
· In the wake of the staged mess described as her "tour," Mariah Carey continues to fire various managers, agents, and wet nurses. Freed members of her entourage can be spotted on their knees, crying tears of joy. [NYDN/R&M (2nd item)]
· The denials are out, but, really, who hasn't made out with Scarlett Johansson? She's young, she's experimenting, and she just might be doing Imitation of Christ's Tara Subkoff. [NYP]
· Finally clearing up speculation about their girliness once and for all, the New York delegation for the Democratic convention books a party at Boston's L Street Bathhouse. Tee hee. [NYP]

Don't think we didn't notice our DC sister blog Wonkette getting some manual stimulation on the front page of today's LAT. It's such an unabashed lovefest that by the end of the article, we thought our Ana and the LAT's Susannah Rosenblatt would have interrupted their pillow fight just long enough to suck Jagermeister shots out of each other's navels while singing "I Will Survive." Maybe Rosenblatt was entranced by Ana's "fuscia bedroom slippers," which she uses to distract the constant stream of reporters to her residence from wandering into the gimp dungeon.

Let us express our concern for the well-being of Manhattan's most recent subway shooting victim, and for all of us as well in this noble city. Speedy recovery!