Occasionally we do good here, instead of the usual evil. Case in point: when a young lady met Manhattan Casanova and creepy sexual compulsive Paul Janka at a restaurant recently, she almost fell prey to his inexplicable charms. But she figured out who he was after he had her come to the Upper East Side for drinks, and then refused to come down from his apartment, hoping that she would feel pressured to enter into his lair. (That's his M.O.!) "Your blog basically saved me tonight," she wrote. "Last thursday I was at JG Melons and met this guy who gave me the F*** me eyes..." The story, and text convo, after the jump.

Well, we're here. We fought our way through hellacious traffic — 45 minutes on the off-ramp alone! — and we battled through the blazes that engulfed the famed clocktower from Back To The Future earlier today. Now Molly McAleer and myself are here are perched on the (surprisingly product placement free) yellow carpet, ready to take Hollywood down from the inside (again, we're still not sure how we managed to slip through the rigorous credentialing process). While we're still a little unsure of how all this will go down, one thing is assured — we'll be doing our best to wreak havoc. All of the action can be found after the jump!

As Defamer's resident sous chef Molly McAleer will attest, the most difficult part of culling together each week's installment of Dirt Sandwich is not finding material worthy of inclusion, but rather trying to decide which parts to eliminate. This week's episode is no exception; even in a four day work week, this sammy is overflowing with juicy morsels of celebrity detritus. WATCH (!) as Billy Bush nearly drops an s-bomb when he learns about Clay Aiken's impending fatherhood. REVEL (!) in the sheer delight of knowing which celebrity in Hollywood Barack Obama looks up to. CELEBRATE (!) the wonder of TMZ's long-haired broseph when he describes Jodie Foster's erotic shopping trip as "Harsh, dude." Our thoughts exactly.

Sex and the City is the only thing happening in the world today, which made us wonder [Note: that is the only 'Sex and the City' joke I know]: what kind of dude went to see this movie? Gawker videographer Alex Goldberg lurked outside the Union Square movie theater last night and aggressively questioned all the men of the male persuasion waiting in line for the most important film event of our time. Why were they there? The answer was not always "to get laid." Though that was pretty much the answer with the straight guys. You fools! Didn't you watch the damn movie? Your ladyfriend will only have sex with you if you buy them fancy clothes and propose marriage. The whole scene looks like an amazing shitshow. "Cosmos? No, I had a metropolitan, though, and a White Russian."

We've heard all about the negative effects of blogging: there was the NYT-induced blogger-death panic, in which blogging created an unhealthy lifestyle, resulting in two heart attacks that would have happened anyway. And there are the people who have had relationships destroyed by compulsive blogging. Blogging also exacerbates narcissistic tendencies! But expressing your feelings might actually be good for your health, Scientific American finds: "Research shows that it improves memory and sleep, boosts immune cell activity and reduces viral load in AIDS patients, and even speeds healing after surgery." Whoa. Four reasons why blogging is good for your health:

Ohhh dear. Some nefarious genius has stumbled upon the Photobucket page of Ed Westwick, also known as Charles "Chuckles" Bass from the Ken Burns documentary series Gossip Girl (kidding, it's just a silly soap about rich Manhattan teens). Or is it the work of Chace "Nate" Crawford, another actor on the show? Or of some anonymous, obsessive third party? There are lots of personal photos of Ed, Chace, and various friends posing drunkenly and cockily, as the young ones are wont to do. Look, there are Chace and Ed looking sexy and intimate, as they should always look! And there's Ed in bed with an anonymous lady friend! And there, of course, they all are, clearly drunk as monks. Though they may play Upper East Side rich brats on TV, they are in fact just like us. Drunken idiots who pose for silly photos. We've selected the best and put them in a handy photo album for you. Won't you help us caption them?

That's it, I'm leaving. And I'm taking the hot ones with me. Women of the Internet, it's time to go. It's dangerous online for us in tech. As long as we were moderating "coping with cutting" LiveJournals and keeping Zappos rich by shoe shopping, the Valley and the men who made it paid us little mind. But if we dare be more than pretty eyeballs driving the market, we must challenge the deep misogyny pulsing at the heart of the hypertext transfer protocol. Consider this a collective Swiftian kick to the panties. Follow me, for this is why we have no hope here:

You'll recall Harvard junior Lena Chen as one of our official compulsive oversharers. She's a sex blogger whose ex leaked naked pictures of her once. Now, in addition to the sex blog, she's got a more personal blog intended to correct the fact that Chen is "famous on the internet for all the wrong things." This makes it the perfect venue for pictures of... well, I'll just say it: of Chen right after getting "a facial." Demerits to Chen for posting the photo to the wrong blog, thus making it horribly oversharey. But points to the protocelebrity for the following: Releasing the sex pic herself so it can't be used against her; writing a brief caption that frames the picture as both more feminist and kinky than it appears; chipping away at the shame around a taboo sex act (end facial oppression!) and, most importantly, putting the fear of obsolescence into Julia Allison, the former Georgetown sex columnist now pulling down six figures as a Star editor at large. [Chicktionary]

No question, the Sex And The City movie premiere at Radio City Music Hall is going swimmingly for some people. Fameball Julia Allison and her buddies Mary Rambin and Megan Asha, for example, got inside the hall and snapped photos like the one at left of cast member Sarah Jessica Parker (from Rambin) and now appear to be happily seated next to actress Ashley Olsen. Vogue editor Anna Wintour is present and accounted for. But a line of ticketholders stretching for an entire city block was turned away, according to a disgruntled email tipster, who wrote: "There was a near riot of Louboutin clicking girls to the security windows in the front... Some were in near tears waving their tickets and yelling into their cells." Hopefully the lady from Singapore who bought a fake ticket for $19,000, but then got a free authentic one, wasn't among the crowd, because this would push her over the edge. I told you this was going to get ugly. Full email report after the jump.

The speculation today over actress Lindsay Lohan's possible sapphistry got us wondering about other celebrity gay rumors. If you believe Sex and the City, people whispering that you're a secret 'mo means you've finally arrived. If you believe former NSYNC band member and current slacks and defeated, lonely expression wearer JC Chasez those rumors are annoying. And what if, like Lindsay, you're rumored to be dating another celebrity? What does it all mean?? After the jump we'll take a look at LiLo and SamRo and other *possible* couples, like Matthew McConaughey and Lance Armstrong, who are rumored to be sharing a charming little flat in downtown Sodom.

Some guys really know how to turn on the charm. Take CAA agent Dan Aloni for example, who reps directors Christopher Nolan, Michel Gondry and Tom Shadyac (among others) and who we hear recently talked his way right off the Fox lot after a tiff with Fox Atomic production boss Debbie Liebling. It seems everything was going just fine until Aloni bellowed something about Liebling being "a stupid fucking cunt" — which was enough for Peter Chernin himself to reportedly ban all of CAA from the lot until the Death Star gets its loose cannon in line. But we also hear that might take a while. Why?

We love Dirt Sandwich, Defamer videographer and ToDoLogist Molly McAleer's weekly exercise in gossip-TV trash-compaction, for so many reasons. Among them, it gives us a chance to spend some time with Harvey Levin and his team of dude-monkeys over at TMZ, who find not-very-funny things (dental floss, Howard the Duck 2) ABSOLUTELY HYSTERICAL!!! Also in this installment: Charlize Theron in Secrets of the Casting Couch! Shayne Lamas wields a rod! And more cancer! Enjoy.

The latest celebrity said to be jumping on the nudie pregnant pictures bandwagon is Nicole Kidman, who was seen yesterday attending a "top secret" modeling session for a potential cover shoot with Frenchy photographer extraordinaire Patrick Demarchelier. While he's no Annie Leibovitz, and it's unknown which magazine this shoot was for, Demarchelier is a monthly contributor for Allure, Vogue, and Demi Moore's old knocked-up-while-nude stomping grounds, Vanity Fair. So whether or not Nicole is looking to appear on an upcoming cover of VF as Demi's successor is still unknown, but we took a look back at some classic big-bellied celebrity appearances in the past to see some glossy examples of what Kidman will be competing with in the Nude And Pregnant Hall of Fame:

Well, in the end it goes to Cook in a landslide. I am surprised! I thought the squealing masses of girls and soft dulcet tones of Archie's "Imagine" repeat on Tuesday night would win over middle ground voters who might have found Cook to be too edgy. But no, in a 12 million vote landslide, our combovered pal from Kansas City tearily took the crown and Simon and company rejoiced. I guess 19 and the judges were behind Cook all along. Perhaps the over the top Archie plaudits were just a calculated bait and switch. Or maybe there's nothing so cynical about American Idol after all. Good for Cook. Instant fame! Who else has won grand television prizes this year, on shows like America's Next Top Model and Project Runway? After the jump, take a tour through this year in winning things, starting, of course, with Mr. Cook.

Click to viewMoral of this story: if you're digging yourself into a hole, stop digging. Yesterday, we got a tip about a self-described "Mr. Right" on NYC's Craigslist, who posted a personal ad with 30 pictures of himself, several of which feature him waving a stack of $20 bills. We put up a few of his photos and chuckled. But he was upset! So he called up the Gawker offices to voice his grievances. He charged us with fraud. He threatened to "punch the fucking guy whoever did this" and "fuck him up." And he warned us, "I'm ten times smarter than these people, cause I"m gonna record it right now." So are we! You have to hear it to believe it. Remember, kids: Craigslist is a public place. Click to listen to the highlights. (To refresh your memory, three of his moneymaking personal ad photos are below):

We had barely recovered from last week's whirlwind The Bachelor finale—an unrepentantly romantic affair which saw Lorenzo Lamas marry off his youngest neglected daughter to a Mary Poppins background player—when the ABC reality TV mating rite began anew. On last night's The Bachelorette premiere, the gender scenario was reversed, with 25 eager-to-wed penis-havers (or at least eager to nab some sweet national airtime plus a chance at nailing a reality semi-star) vying for the attentions of one desirable, not-getting- any-younger- if-you- know-what- we-mean goddess. The lucky lady in question? The Bachelor season 11 finalist DeAnna Pappas, who you might remember as having had her still-beating heart plucked right out of her chest in an episode we like to refer to as Indiana Womack and the Gazebo of Commitmentphobic Doom.

Well, that's that, eh? Gossip Girl's dizzying, dismaying, frustrating, and fabulous first season came to a breezy, sun-soaked end last night. I thought it was pretty good. Sure the last ten or so minutes may have been a bit overstuffed with plot developments, but that was kind of refreshing for a show that can be a bit slack, plus it was the finale. They're allowed to set up cliffhangers and new possibilities for next season. As we look down the barrel of a summer TV landscape populated by American Gladiators and Last Comic Standing, let's take a look at where our fakest New York friends ended up, and where they might be headed.

Heroin? S&M sex? BORING. The real nugget of sadism behind the unearthed video of actress-turned-self-righteous-humanitarian Angelina Jolie in the UK's Sun is her blasé confession about—whoops!—kind of killing her pets. She's worse than Paris Hilton, who got in trouble for neglecting her many chihuahuas—and worst of all, young Jolie, filmed rambling on in what the Sun calls a "drug den," thinks her forgetfulness is really cute, grinning sheepishly as she recounts the pets she's killed over the years: "I had a dog and I ended up beating him, and he got sick and... I've hurt so many—I am just not a good animal person... I had a rabbit that died, too... a cage fell on him..."

If you are anything like us, your brain is total mush by 4pm on Friday. Fortunately, Defamer has the perfect solution to get you shipshape by bar time. That's right, wrap both of your hands around this week's Dirt Sandwich and take a giant, yummy bite. Our fearless and peerless videographer Molly McAleer has packed this week's installment chock fulla tasty morsels that are guaranteed to make your mindgrapes dance. You want examples? How about Entertainment Tonight's tantalizing tease of John Mayer being held at gunpoint? Or Tori Spelling's curious confession to Extra that she's aiming to play a "sexy MILF" in the new 90210? If neither of those made your brain start secreting heavy doses of serotonin, we're pretty sure Sarah Jessica Parker's Frankenstein hands oughta do the trick. Enjoy the weekend, kids!

One finds the best celebrity blind items in the Home & Garden section of the New York Times. Joyce Wadler, who once helmed the newspaper's tepid Boldface Names gossip column, winkled out a delicious anecdote about one of luxury contractor John Finton's most demanding celebrity clients.