Lindsay Lohan, best known for her abuse of controlled substances and a starring role as a bipolar stripper in the seminal horror film I Know Who Killed Me, seemingly suffers from polydactylism. This photograph from PageSix.com seems to confirm our worst fears: That Ms. Lohan has ten fingers on her right hand. (In general, human beings have only five per hand, for a total of ten.) Lohan, however, isn't alone among luminaries with supernumerary digits! Anne Boleyn had six fingers on her left hand! Also, Benazir Bhutto, the only real opposition to election-rigging, Constitution-suspending Pervez Musharraf's dictatorship in Pakistan, died today in an apparent suicide attack. But anyway LOHAN! TEN FINGERS! THAT'S NUTS!

Since time immemorial, we have received missives from a person called The Earl Grey, the greatest social documentarian of our time. This one is the whoppingest, most stellar one yet—an awards show unto itself of the year in fashion spreads. Warning: Along the way, space and time collapse and capital letters disappear!

Though Claus, after enjoying a goodbye buggering of Rudolph (played with lusty relish by real-life sexual partner Demi Moore), briefly must suffer the indignity of taking an internship within Katalyst, the jolly icon does eventually get his obligatory happy ending. This is, after all, a Christmas greeting; watching a down-on-his-luck Santa succumb to a more realistic Hollywood fate—a crack addiction, a stint on Santa Monica Boulevard turning tricks in Mrs. Claus's clothes— would be far too depressing a prospect as we all head off to our holiday vacations. Enjoy.

Remember Laura Bennett from last season of Project Runway? She was flip and sometimes great and sometimes horrible and always pregnant? Now she has a comic strip on iVillage called "Case Clothed." A funny title unless you, like me, have a lisp in which case people are too polite to ask whether you're making a pun or if you have a problem with sibilants. Anyway, Bennett answers all your fashion questions with responses that only make sense if you are as loaded as she is! Which you probably are if you're married to a quirky architect who apparently loves to impregnate you.

So many women have had experience with our current obsession, New York Casanova Paul Janka! Including this woman: "Listen Gawker, this is the Paul Janka I dated. He was an educated, good conversationalist that I met at Pastis during a snowstorm, and he never got in my pants. He was upfront about his spread sheet. I said that it was gross. I told him I would never touch his thingy unless he got tested and showed me the results .. which meant never, cause who does that? We talked on the phone mostly about politics, family and life. He never said gross pervy things to me. Until.... One night I met him at his place and he answered the door jerking off. I ran away. I stopped answering his phone calls. He left voice mails here and there over the years." He also left this epistolary record!

With the news that Britney's little sister Jamie Lynn Spears was preggers came an avalanche of media insanity. Will we have not one, but two Spears vaginas to keep track of now? Whose baby will fetch more cash for tabloid photos? Whose baby's daddy will have the worse rap career? And what about Gramma Spears' bookdeal? Let's take a look at the sibling rivalry and the JLS reaction.

Having only pre-shot Spears-related pregnancy segments involving scenarios in which the reliably troubled, impressively fertile Britney is knocked up by either one of her record producers, a Starbucks barista with whom she spends more quality time than her children, or a Child Services case worker lured into her sex dungeon during a routine home visit, the media found themselves scrambling to deal with the wholly unanticipated news of Jamie Lynn's impregnation that broke late yesterday.Defamer videographer Molly McAleer has compiled this brief sampling of how some TV outlets (such as local ABC and NBC affiliates and the always-nimble TMZ) responded to this story of unparalleled international importance, wrapping it up with today's coverage from The View that had the advantage of an entire night's worth of Whoopi Goldberg's thoughtful contemplation.

For those of you who haven't met him, Biblically or otherwise, last week we introduced you to the greatest Casanova of all time, Paul "Jenkem" Janka. One of our intrepid readers took it upon themselves to begin a textual relationship with him. Something we learned is that Janka plays "Would you rather..." quite well and once did it with a dude. WHAT FOLLOWS ARE WORDS THAT ARE NOT SAFE FOR WORK. Or society.

The blogfest that is T magazine's website has taken a turn for the greedy, as the staff has begun posting "holiday wish lists" that might as well be coded solicitations for publicists! "Fashion magazine editors may have it worse than the general population. Every day we find ourselves surrounded by beautiful objects," say the supposedly tongue-in-cheek bloggers, before going on to solicit Brunello Cucinelli wool flannel travel jackets and the harlequin dress from Miu Miu's Spring/Summer collection. ATTENTION PUBLICISTS: I WOULD LIKE A NEW PAIR OF SHOES, BECAUSE THESE HAVE HOLES, FOR SERIOUS. SEND THEM TO 76 CROSBY STREET, NY NY 10012 BEFORE MY LAST DAY, 12/31. KTHXBAI!

Self-proclaimed "queen of all media" Perez Hilton no longer reigns on YouTube. Girlfriend managed to get not one but two accounts banned from the Google-owned video site after he "posted a very critical video about their practices." Naturally, Hilton reacted with calm and reason unconstrained diva fury. Here's Hilton's rant:

Tionna Tee Smalls is the internationally-known blogger, author and advice columnist. Go on, ask her anything. This week: What about the man who just won't marry you?

Preferring to keep to herself the naughty Yuletide tales of how a couple of glasses of brandy-infused apple cider and a tantalizing proximity to some dangling mistletoe release her Rent-A-Santa-craving, hot-flashing office party freak, The View's Barbara Walters decided to celebrate the season by sharing with America the Christmas cards her famous friends have recently sent her.

According to Page Six, socialite and girl genius Lydia Hearst is peeved that Darfur benefit-throwers kept "slapping" her name on their invites after she did a single party with them. Well, now we hear the other side of the story, in a lengthy letter from Malcolm Harris, of Designers for Darfur. EXCLUSIVE! MUST CREDIT THE PEOPLE OF WESTERN SUDAN!

People.com's always-discriminating readers have spoken: Britney Spears, the serially troubled onetime pop-star whose head-shaving, custody-forfeiting, meth-addled-stripper-gone-to-seed-imitating misadventures have kept the shark-infested tabloid waters well-chummed for an entire calendar year, is the proud recipient of the website's coveted 2007 Bestie Award for Most Talked About Star. In what we'll assume was a landslide, Spears topped Angelina Jolie, who, much to her detriment in this particular race, did not lose possession of even one of the estimated fifteen orphans she collected during her Third World travels on behalf of the United Nations.

Brandon Holley, the last editor that Jane magazine would ever see (so sad! Still feel that hole in our hearts), did get a job it turns out! She has been secretly (well to us, not to her) working at Yahoo as "executive producer, Yahoo Lifestyles." This means that she is, for one of her duties, the astrology editor, which surely is a great and hilarious thing to edit. Like: "Can you make this totally-invented thing seemingly more accurate?"

On today's The View, Sherri Shepherd took a break from expatiating upon the true meaning of blinkered Christian zealotry to instead share her pointed observations about Christmas parties. In the above clip, the gals gab about the show's Christmas bash. After Whoopi—who, by the way, has recently taken on the on the vocal intonation, resonance, and appearance of a Depression-era jazz guitarist—shares that she had to leave early to get up for her "other gig" (a one-nighter at the Cotton Club?), Sherri leaps at the opportunity to make sounds come out her mouth as she giddily recounts lettin' her freak go.

Kara Swisher captured the hot Santa at Google executive Marissa Mayer's Christmas party on video. But the normally fearless Wall Street Journal reporter seemed intimidated by his outfit, with her camera never dipping below the level of his shapely pecs. Who is this guy — and what was he sporting below the waistline that made Swisher so nervous? Let me know.

It's not that we're appalled by married Eric Schmidt's role as Google's adulterer supervision. Rather, we're amazed. Impressed, even. Where does the man find the time? Though he's broken up with Marcy Simon, the girlfriend he gave a PR job in Google's New York office, we hear he's now squiring Kate Bohner around. Including, publicly, to one of the presidential debates Google's YouTube site has been running with CNN. We don't think this relationship will last very long, either. Just watch this video to see why.

Paul Janka, who shot to internet infamy this week over his lady-killing ways, delights in the titillation of the written word. A recent or soon-to-be-recent conquest of his sent us this writing of his; she received it from him. It looks to be a form letter. Its content is something of a mix between a instruction manual, street directions and high schooler's version of Les Petits Oiseaux. He calls his penis a "warm muscle." If words can be NSFW, it's definitely NSFW.

Because nothing says Christmas like the sound of a self-inking stamper ka-chunking the word "FILED" onto a criminal complaint accusing one of L.A.'s most high-profile nightlife impresarios of rape, we bring you this disturbing story: Last August, Skye-Anne Smith was an underage patron of local professional catfighting arena Les Deux. She claims Dolce Group co-owner Lonnie Moore, partner of Big Brother All-Stars winner Mike "Boogie" Malin, plied her with drinks, then led her to what she believed was the VIP area, but was actually a dimly lit "manager's lounge" equipped with a bed: