"I'm a little shocked at the numbers," said sociologist Pamela Smock of the results of a recent survey of 1,134 median-income Americans, among whom "two-thirds of women and half of the men said they were 'very' or 'extremely' willing to marry for money." Mmm? "It's kind of against the notion of love and soul mates and the main motivations to marry in our culture." Oh, those are the main motivations to marry in our culture? We had gotten the impression that televised rose ceremonies, Jumbotron engagements, and fancy gift registries were the main motivations! But whatever, it is kind of sweet that someone is still surprised that most people would enter into contractual prostitution for less than the asking price of a one-bedroom luxury condo in Greenpoint. Money changes everything, Pamela!

Alpha kitty and fancy kept woman Atoosa Rubenstein is too busy to shop for her Christmas presents in the real world: "I've got things to do, places to be, an online fashion series to launch on Friday." Cannot. Wait. In the meantime, though, we can follow Atoosa's clicking from one department store website to another via her 'Creative Consumer' column. The goal here isn't bargain-hunting, she explains: "I'd rather pay double whatever those early-morning shoppers saved to avoid the rush. Yes, it's a luxury even to make a statement like that. But this column is about just that: cyber-shopping the luxury market." Despite this stated cash-burning ethos, though, the 'Toos is not all about frivolity. "For a shopping site to get an Alpha Kitty Meow of Approval ... it really ought to have a charity (or at least a green) component."

Without a major publication cover announcing some variation of the sentiment, "I'M GAY," it's sometimes hard to pinpoint the exact moment a celebrity has been outed in the media. Is it when they mention the name of their longtime companion in a humble and moving acceptance speech at an insular industry reception?

But judge for yourselves based on the above video from the press conference: Was the unkempt Tarantino boldly demonstrating to Hollywood that he'll participate in their second-tier orgy of self-congratulation, but only on his own terms? Or did he merely fall asleep in the Pussy Wagon waiting for the crack-of-dawn event to begin, awakening mere moments before he was to appear on camera, leaving him no time for some last-second grooming?

We wondered in April about venture capitalist Heidi Roizen's plans after her firm Moibus Venture finished closing up shop, and now it's been revealed. After topping her bathroom scale in May, Roizen turned her attention towards the music scales. This week, she launched SkinnySongs, a startup focused on creating upbeat, catchy music with the most thinspirational lyrics this side of a pro-ana LiveJournal ring. (Sample lyrics: "Thin! — not telling you lies. Thin! — I want smaller thighs.") Roizen is both the founder and "chief lyricist" for the startup. You can hold her fully responsible for such ditties as "I'm a Hottie Now," "Incredible Shrinking Woman," and the bizarrely titled "Blowing You Off at Eight."

In a bold return to the semi-controversial product endorsement activities of her infamous, burger-fellating past, the dependably quasi-outrageous Paris Hilton has traded the sickly green of her iconic, night-vision enhanced figure-modeling work for a glittering gold in an attempt to sell the product of a champagne-in-a-can concern Rich Prosecco.

Tionna Tee Smalls is famous for giving good advice, so stop asking your 30something single gay boss to help you sort out your love life and start asking Tionna! This week: is a cheater always a cheater?

It was April of 1983, and Mary Kirby was an azure-eyed up-and-coming author. She was single, but on purpose, and men would trail her everywhere. She was so good at meeting men that she wrote a book about it! She called it "Mary Kirby's Guide to Meeting Men." Twenty-five years later, the text is still amazingly instructive. Today's homily comes from "Chapter Seven: Zeroing In On Particular Men" Particular in this instance means rich and Christian.

The teaser trailer the Society posted to its blog is chillingly effective: not only do we expect to be appalled by their trip to one of L.A.'s most popular pet-pushing emporiums, but we're hoping their i-team, disguised as Les Deux patrons in search of a hot after-party, somehow managed to infiltrate Hilton's compound and obtain footage of the walk-in closet where a colony of neglected pups survives on a diet of high-end shoe leather and the contents of discarded water bottles. Stay tuned!

Having, like the rest of us, caught wind of a story circulating that Queen Latifah was finally going to make an honest woman out of her longtime personal-training companion, a Sun Times reporter at a junket for The Perfect Holiday gathered the nerve to ask the actress/torch singer/hip-hop architect whether the rumors were true:

Crazy cat lady and former Seventeen editor Atoosa Rubenstein's Alpha Kitty project seeks to empower young girls by showing them extremely poorly edited Youtube videos featuring women who tend to be more successful, better looking and wealthier than they are. A recent video featured "model/actress" Taylor Warren in front of a white background, musing: "I remember my mom catching me sitting in front of a mirror crying because I just wanted to know what I looked like doing it." But! Before you discard Ms. Rubenstein's idiotic project (and it is idiotic) I want to introduce you to Minnie Fay, a 17-year-old girl in Amston, CT who responds to nearly every Alpha Kitty video with a video post of her own. Fay is the sweetest, most vulnerable, most pure creature in all of Connecticut. She loves makeup but also kinda feels weird about it and she goes to school! And I love her. After the jump, meet her boyfriend, Rory, who is also an Alpha Kitty.

From a helpful tipster, the first-ever photo from the wedding ceremony of Larry Page and Lucy Southworth. The groom wore a white buttondown shirt, untucked; the bride, a cream strapless number, with her hair loose. Pics or it didn't happen, eh? After the jump, visual confirmation that Sir Richard Branson was the Google cofounder's best man.

This year in the Times' magazine's Year in Ideas, that annual issue devoted to not-quite-scientifically-sound science, Rebecca Skloot, daughter of brain-damaged and generally amazing poet Floyd Skloot, explains why so many single women of a certain age become cat ladies.

So how are Mr. and Mrs. Larry Page faring? The coconut telegraph linking Valleywag's Virgin Islands correspondents with headquarters in San Francisco is down. Our sources who promised us an inside look at Larry Page's wedding to Lucy Southworth, believed to be taking place right now on Richard Branson's Necker Island, have been silent since this morning. And now I think I know why: What may be a tropical storm system is forming northeast of the archipelago. After the jump, a shot taken today by a Valleywag informant showing the extremely windy conditions there.

Unlike Judd Apatow's last movie, which was hailed by 40-year-old virgins the world over as being the first sensitive portrayal of their shared predicament ever committed to screen, Knocked Up was less embraced by potential knocked-uppees, who felt the female lead had greatly settled for a less-than-ideal lot in life. Star Katherine Heigl addressed her misgivings with some of her character's choices in a recent Vanity Fair, a statement that sparked much debate, and one that she now feels the need to qualify:

We're getting more reports from the scene of this weekend's wedding between gummy Google cofounder Larry Page and yummy Stanford Ph.D. Lucy Southworth. Above, another picture of the wedding tent (click for a bigger version.) Is that an alt-energy windmill on the hill? How eco-conscious! After the jump, a vacationing tipster sends us more details of the goings-on in the Virgin Islands, including a rundown on rumored Hollywood guests.

Unquestionably, Jennifer Love Hewitt's ass has seen better weeks. Its "hang" has been discussed in great detail on The View, it's been forced onto the cover of People against its will, and the celebrity-obsessed media, always ready to descend like cellulite-craving vultures the minute even an inch of slightly dimpled skin is exposed, have continued to ignore its size 2 owner's public plea for privacy during these difficult times. Current TV laments this sorry state of affairs, compiling two-and-a-half jam-packed minutes of all the rump-related coverage we've been subjected to over the previous five days; perhaps now that we've all gotten this out of our collective system, Hewitt's embattled buttocks can finally know some peace.

"Yesterday," writes an insider, "was the last day of shooting for the 2007 season at 'The Tyra Banks Show,' finishing with the Holiday Show. The lucky audience received not only the customary gift bags filled with hair and make-up products, but also an amazing haul; which included fur-lined boots, a designer dress, diamond stud earrings and necklace, and an AT&T Video Phone, all with a Le Sportsac bag to carry it home." And last night was also the holiday party at Pianos—what did the staffers, many of whom came with Tyra from Los Angeles, get?

BusinessWeek is trying to call a halt to Larry and Lucy's wedding! We get that Google is killing your print-ad sales. We get that being dependent on Web searches for, say, half of your traffic or whatever scares the bejeezus out of you. But really, mainstream media, this is a low blow — trying to put a pause on marital bliss with a conveniently planted scare story on billionaire prenups?

Yesterday, the Los Angeles restaurant world—nay, the entire world—was stunned by Derober.com's report that billionaire real estate developer/reality TV personality/premium-steak magnate Donald Trump, looking to reward the attentive service of a couple of pasta dishes and eclipse the onetime largesse of comparatively stingy superproducer Jerry Bruckheimer, left a $10,000 gratuity for a lucky Buffalo Club waiter, a move that briefly established the mogul as The Greatest and Most Generous Tipper in the World. Today, Trump went into full denial mode, telling Page Six that he's wasn't even in California on the day of the alleged tipping, and that he's the victim of a vicious hoax he believes was perpetrated by the attention-craving Santa Monica eatery: