We forwarded Matthew McConaughey's people your favorite suggestions of Bongo Romcom and Miller Chill, but it seems he chose to go the Old Timey Gold Prospector route, and named his son Levi Alves. The OK! magazine exclusive currently gracing Gelson's checkout aisles and 7-Eleven service counters reportedly netted McConaughey $3 million; paired with the earnings from his Beef Guild spots, this additional income allows the actor the freedom to pursue smaller passion projects like Surfer, Dude. Flanked on the cover by girlfriend Camila Alves and tiny, perfect Levi, McConaughey still manages to maintain sultry eye-contact with the camera, as if to say, "Yeah, I'm a dad. But I'm not dead. Catch my drift? Is anyone else's shirt chaffing them? Boy, I could sure go for a lobster roll. Is there a clam shack in the area?" McConaughey explained to the magazine how the delivery room was transformed into an flip-flop-devouring bongo-vortex:

• Madonna heard about her brother Christopher Ciccone's tell-all book, so she emailed him "Call me." He was all, "Hello? I don't respond to commands anymore." Besides, writing the book "was like a giant fucking orgasm." [Observer]

In the latest issue of W, cover girl Penelope Cruz assures the reporter that she “never talk[s] about her private life to journalists...NEVER," Of course, a few grafs above, the pretty little beard-candy spends much of the interview talking, in great detail, about the most private of private issues we didn’t even know we wanted to know! Penelope’s “inner monsters” that have ruined her so-called relationships, why “sweating and bleeding” is her idea of “happiness,” and far more after the jump:

• The biggest loser in the Jimmy Kimmel-Sarah Silverman breakup? Howard Stern, who sounds despondent about the split. He was supposed to hang out with the couple on vacation last week, but they never showed, and when Howard later heard the news, he was so upset he had to take a walk to calm down. [Page Six]

· Sacha Baron Cohen's Bruno exploits took him from Israel to Arkansas; his Sherlock Holmes adventures to come may or may not include the missus.
· AFTRA ratified its new contract, but SAG didn't let that spoil its appetite for destruction.
· Harvey Weinstein is now officially going door-to-door to finance his films. Psst! Buddy! Wanna buy a Tarantino?
· The TV Critics Association Press Tour is dead. Long live the TCA Press Tour!
· Lest major Dark Knight spoilers aren't up your alley, there's always Michael Bay's unproduced Awesome Knight screenplay to hold you over another week.
· After a long string of compatibility issues, Drew Barrymore is on the market for a Mac huckster upgrade.
· This Week In Magazine Cover Hell: Blake Lively gets the blown-out Skeletor treatment, while the pasty youths of Twilight make EW safe for chest hair.
· Here's the story of a lovely lady, who was bringing up three very lovely RRRAAALLLLPPPHHHHH
· Defamer's readers joined Matthew McConaughey in welcoming a bouncing Bongo Romcom to the world.
· Meanwhile in France, stinky, salmon-devouring, "high-maintenance beetch" Angelina Jolie prepared her post-twinbirth conditioning regimen. Two words: Hula hoop.
· Pick your reality TV poison for 2009: America's Greatest Dog or The Ashley Dupre Governor Boink Variety Hour.
· We wished a healthy recovery (literally) to the rat-friendly Newsroom Cafe, and bid a fond farewell to J-Lo's slice of Pasadena paradise, Madre's.
· Have you yet greeted Tricia Romano, Defamer newcomer and social observer extraordinaire? Well? That's more like it.
· Molls ate spinach. That is all.

Ah, the three trimesters of Hollywood child birth: 1. pretend to love pregnancy, 2. schedule a c-section in order to sidestep any labor or stretching of siren vag, and 3. whore out your newborn's picture to the highest bidder. It's such a magical time! And while there are critics, it's a natural response to choose to splash your baby's face across the tabloids, especially when you constantly publicly reminisce about the good ol' days when you could buy panty liners in private. And why participate in the Hollywood Baby Bonanza? It's not like the early publicity will morph your kid into some kind of poorly mannered fauxhawked skunk. However, it will get you paid.

• After weeks of battling in court, Christie Brinkley and Peter Cook negotiated a "surprise" settlement last night, which they announced at 6 AM this morning. Many of the details are still fuzzy—they'll explain more when they get to court this morning—but custody will likely stay as is, and Christie will likely retain ownership of most of the couple's properties. [NYP]

Sexiest Beef-Pusher Alive Matthew McConaughey can strike "dabble in fatherhood" from his phonebook-thick bucket list, as his girlfriend has just birthed the actor's first child: a healthy son, with ten fingers, ten toes, but—in an unfortunate congenital defect which doctors reassure will have no bearing on the child's quality of life—only one, tiny flip-flop. From the Reuters report:

• Ashley Dupre might be leaving the beaches of New Jersey for the beaches of California to star in a new reality show. Just what the show will consist of isn't clear (or what network is going to pick it up), but there's a possibility it could be a dating show a la Tila Tequila. [E!]

Did you stuff your face with enough beef over the holiday weekend? If not, Matthew McConaughey is gonna be mighty pissed off. Check out the new radio spot he recorded for the National Cattleman's Beef Association. You know, the dudes who came up with that "Beef, it's what's for dinner" slogan? Well, they got themselves a brand new golden-haired, A-list pitchman and the results have become a bit of an obsession here in the Defamer offices. Why does it fascinate so? Maybe it's because McConaughey plays up his every vocal tic for maximum effect, like he's trying to lure a small child into a windowless van with some candy. Or maybe it's because their new tagline, "Discover the power of protein in the land of lean beef," is so impossibly vomit inducing (and also a little homoerotic). Or perhaps it's because at the end of the day, Matthew delivers his most convincing performance since A Time To Kill. Whatever the reason, it totally works. I ate like 15 burgers this weekend and couldn't be happier. Listen to the ad after the jump.

Long time BFFs Lance Armstrong and Matthew McConaughey reunited on Wednesday afternoon for a run in MQLIGU. Armstrong lovingly gushed about his relationship with Kate Hudson for a majority of their jog. McConaughey was surprised to hear that Armstrong had already met Hudson's mother. McConaughey has yet to met Goldie Hawn after doing two films with Hudson. Armstrong asked his good buddy for some advice on how to handle things with Hudson, but McConaughey quickly changed the subject. McConaughey wanted to know if Armstrong had seen his flip flops. McConaughey has felt his entire vibe has been completely out of sync ever since he lost his favorite pair of sandals.

It was the tribal rump-humping that would incite a beach-dwellers' Civil War. (OK, maybe not directly, but dotted-lines can be drawn.) In its path—a thousand Nicaraguan signoritas' hearts, mashed into a fine pulp. Of what do we speak? Why, Mashew McDonauhdgrl's flip-flop displacing Firewater Demon Dance of Handsy Pasión, of course! And thanks to the fee-meeting blurry-cellphone-video-producers at TMZ, we can finally catch the glimpse of the star of 8000 forgettable romcoms, caught red-handed as he...uh...kinda shakes his butt to the beat, sweats profusely, and doesn't come into direct contact with anyone else. Sssssscandalous.

· Things we learned at the Los Angeles Film Festival this week. School Of Rock 2 isn't a pipe dream. Guillermo del Toro isn't going to milk The Hobbit. Women deserve equal talk show hosting rights, too. Nobody wanted to make Animal House. Chris Carter is as secretive as ever. Did somebody order stake?
· The battle between the Paps and the Surfs was kinda like the Greasers versus the Socs, only with the newly blackberry-less Matthew McConaughey playing the role of Dally. But what of the rematch?
· Mini-Me showed the world his mini-me, which should help him knock down that large tax debt.
· Raffaello Follieri, Anne Hathaway's sketchball ex, got pinched for attempting to defraud God. A judge set bail at $21 million, but who's gonna take care of the dog?
· Mary Kate Olsen de-pruned herself long enough to convince Dave Letterman that her old arch enemy Spencer Pratt is, indeed, a prat.
· No one was safe as we counted down the Hollywood's Top Ten Worst Kissers.
· Wall-E manged to get fatties and Republicans up in arms without saying a word.
· Whoa, who raped the Coreys? One mystery solved, one to go.
· AC Slater found himself embroiled in Chesthairgate.
· The Emasculation of Joshua continued, as Katherine Heigl used her whipped husband as an ashtray and made him curl her hair. Joshua did not escape unscathed.
· You can ongratulate Jason Bateman on the impending Arrested Development movie, but be sure you don't bring up pregnant teens.
· We had a dream. We had an awesome dream. Mainly b/c it was filled with lesbian werewolves.
·: Noted blog-hater Patrick Goldstein entered the blogosphere. We can only guess how many of his 1,100 pageviews came from his IP address.
· Which groovy comedy superstar is openly courting other men to touch his monkey? Perhaps they should frequent the Fox and Sony lots?
· Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, tits. We'll miss you, George.

As we sadly noted earlier this month, soon-to-be-dad and LA’s resident surfing community iconoclast Matthew McConaughey had quite the rambunctious stay in Nicaragua earlier this month, “dirty-dancing” his way through every girl at a bar and drunkenly diving into sewage ditches searching for his beloved flip-flops. But more details about the chest-baring rabblerouser’s boozy nights are now coming out, and despite his endless attempts to kiss and “put the make on every woman in his path,” McConaughey reportedly wound up going home with two male bar buddies instead. And his two new guy pals in question made it all the way to his hotel room. What happened once the threesome got there, after the jump.

100 years from now, history buffs will return to the Paradise Cove beachhead decked in period-appropriate costume, thrilled to recreate that region's legendary battle between the Paps and the Serfs. It was a war that began, like so many others, over the honor of an object of astonishing beauty: In this case, that would be Matthew McConaughey—their flip-flop-misplacing Helen of Troy. The surfing battle wages, having migrated online:

Remember the big paparazzi beat-down by surfers in Malibu this past weekend? Well, there's now supposed to be a big Saturday rumble between the two groups, who have been trading taunts in the comments of pap-run news site X17.com. The original clash pitted a mob of entitled white Malibu denizens against the rough-and-tumble paps, some of whom are ex-gang members and many of whom are immigrants, some illegal. The new fight promises even more fun ethnic tension under the sun:

The heat, a killer surf, and a clear shot of Hollywood's favorite shirt-eschewing leading man was a recipe for disaster this weekend. Having returned from his recent Nicaraguan escapades a proud flop-owner in search of his missing flip, Matthew McConaughey combated our city's punishing heat wave by hitting the tasty breaks of Malibu's Paradise Cove. It was there that several upstanding members of our city's paparazzo community—hoping to catch that elusive, $1 million photo of McConaughey hanging toes to the nose while clutching his newborn—were confronted, and ultimately assaulted, by an intimidating and unruly mob of board-shorted surfing henchmen. From the LAT:

Some of the lovely paparazzi from TMZ and X17 were on the beach in Malibu Saturday, trying to get shots of a shirtless Matthew McConaughey, when a group of civic-minded surf dudes took a break from the tasty waves to kick some ass. "The 29-year-old photojournalist told sheriff's deputies that a large group of surfers near Paradise Cove in Malibu approached him and other paparazzi about 2 p.m. and demanded they stop taking pictures and filming. 'They formed a semicircle in front of his camera and they said he [McConaughey] didn't want him to film,' said Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department spokesman Steve Whitmore. 'They got into an argument, and he indicated that he received injuries. . . . [They] took the video camera and threw it in the water.'" Awesome surfer quotes and video link after the jump.

• Republican-leaning movie star Bruce Willis opened a yuppie-friendly wine bar in the East Village, which prompted protests from neighborhood lefties and counterprotests from the Young Republicans. Turns out? He's not a partner in the bar, he just lent his name as a favor. Because, you know, wine, action movie star Bruce Willis — the connection is obvious. Plus he totally made those wine cooler commercials in the 80s. [Observer]

• Anne Hathaway dumped her scandal-plagued boyfriend Raffaello Follieri for all the obvious reasons: his legal troubles, the potential damage to her image, etc. Plus her parents despised him and her dad hired a PI to follow them around. [NY Post]