· Viacom CEO Philippe Dauman prepares for the jilting DreamWorks partners David Geffen and Steven Spielberg may inflict upon Paramount, calling their potential departure for a new studio venture "completely immaterial" to his company's happiness and inviting the pair to "go ahead and fuck whoever you want, you disloyal little tramps, see if I care! My heart will go on!" [Variety]
· Jimmy Kimmel will host the AMAs* for an amazing fourth time. [*the American Music Awards, more popularly known as the "Retarded Grammies."] [THR]
· Happy news: AMC is about to pick up the awesome Mad Men for a second season, the network's tribute to the drinking—Scotch-in-the-office, secretary-banging heyday of the 1960s advertising world. [Variety]
· Eddie Haskell is mad as hell at SAG over undisbursed foreign Beaver residuals and not going to take it anymore [THR]
· It's Matthew McConaughey's Hollywood, and we're all just living in it: Jennifer Garner is in negotiations to star opposite a "charmingly womanzing" McConaughey in New Line's Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, and McConaughey takes Owen Wilson's place in Tropic Thunder, from which Wilson recently withdrew due to, um, "creative differences" or something. [Variety, Variety]

Woody Harrelson, flanked by fellow Hemp Foundation trustee Matthew McConaughey, gives the camera the shaka sign at the Surfer Dude wrap party. [People.com]

It's hardly a secret that big-budget Hollywood moviemaking is perhaps the most financially wasteful of human endeavors, with each prospective blockbuster production lavishing hundreds of thousands of dollars (if not millions) in perks to ensure the constant comfort of its above-the-title talent, who can only practice their craft if their demands for individual pedicurists for each toe and a double-wide equipped with a spa-tub that bubbles forth perfectly chilled Cristal at the touch of a button are fully met. Sunday's LAT featured a must-read Special! Report! revealing the budget of high-eight-figures loser Sahara "confidentially" submitted as an exhibit in the ongoing lawsuits between author Clive Cussler and producer Philip Anschutz, two fierce combatants in the process of suing the living shit out of one another (we apologize for the use of that highly technical legal jargon) in an attempt to figure out who bears the majority of the blame for the movie's profound failure. After the jump, we've excerpted some of the budget's highlights; the Times is careful to disclaim that "actual expenses may have varied from budgeted items," leaving some hope that impenetrably accented actress Penelope Cruz's dialogue coaches, who would have been woefully underpaid at the stated $125,804, ultimately received substantial additional remuneration for bravely performing one of the most dangerous and thankless jobs in all of show business:

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are posted several times a week, so send them in often. Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let everyone know about the time you saw Jason Alexander at Peet's Coffee magically transforming into George Costanza before your eyes after receiving a call from Woody Harrelson:

Why should you care about the spread of poisonous, thumbnail-sized jellyfish in Australian coastal waters, which, at worst, threaten to sting to death a couple thousand beachgoers on the other side of the world? Well, what if those tiny invaders also managed to shut down a Hollywood production that was set to reignite the sizzling chemistry of beloved screen staples Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey? Then, perhaps, you'd begin to grasp the scope of the ecological disaster at hand:

While it's no secret that movies—especially the huge disasters—rarely go before the cameras with a director or producer's first choice in talent, it's always fun when the divide between a production's lofty, A-list dreams and disappointing B-list reality is somehow exposed. In presenting the highlights of producer Karen Baldwin's testimony in the ongoing, alternately messy and hilarious trial in which novelist Clive Cussler and Philip Anschutz's Crusader Entertainment are trying to determine who is most responsible for the historic bombing of Sahara, the LAT lays out how Paramount wound up in the thoroughly fucked position of having to spend $130 million on a Matthew McConaughey vehicle:

You'd think that in a town where a significant percentage of the population spends the other 364 days of the year slicing, injecting, and restuffing themselves beyond recognition, by the time All Hallow's Eve rolls around, they'd have no energy left for yet further modifications—but you'd be wrong. Something about L.A.'s highly plasticized nature, paired with the bloodcurdling showbiz tales of terror we all know so well, make Hollywood and Halloween a nearly perfect complimentary pairing, resulting in a holiday of heightened horror: Hollyween. In honor of your pre-Hollyween weekend festivites, a round-up:
· The LAT details how the studios have been cashing in on a healthy chunk of what has become a $5 billion-per-year industry, through the licensing of their characters to costume manufacturers. Long ago having outgrown the Disney character kiddie-sector, you can now buy fully authorized costumes of all your grown-up screen favorites, including a Nacho Libre Spandex get-up sure to give everyone at your office party love-handle-related nightmares for weeks. [LAT]

Photographs of Matthew McConaughey's recent coastal yoga routine continue to offer inspiration to legions of Photoshop blasphemists everywhere, as a highly ambitious animated gif submitted to a BestWeekEver.tv contest imagines a Star Wars universe in which the Rebels leave the Millenium Falcon behind to fly a shirtless, sand-encrusted McConaughey on a suicide mission to destroy the Death Star. Ultimately, however, McConaughey's daredevil pilots fail in their mission to use his beach body powers to fire two proton torpedoes down a thermal exhaust port that leads directly the reactor core, and the actor meets an untimely, sexy end between Darth Vader's crosshairs.

In Photoshopping some formerly innocent photos of a recent Matthew McConaughey beach workout into an impressive display of clone-enabled auto-erotcism, the Velvet Hot Tub revisits a truly inspired idea clumsily explored in last year's flop The Island. But instead of cloning oneself merely for spare parts to be used in a medical emergency, why shouldn't a celebrity have an exact replica of himself for the purpose of sexual gratification? Mark our words: This is going to be the cutting edge in Hollywood narcissism sooner than any of us would think possible. Somewhere in a sub-basement of Cedars Sinai, geneticists are hunched over Petri dishes containing McConaughey and Pitt DNA, nearly ready to usher in the future.

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers. Send yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let everyone know about the (most recent) time you saw Paula Abdul sobbing into a cellphone.

Because it's Friday, we'll spare you ironic commentary on what our delighted viewing of these images of an apparently shitfaced Matthew McConaughey on a "three-day bender" in Costa Rica and a bikini-clad, karate-kicking Lindsay Lohan*. Says About Our Misguided Fascination With Celebrity. Sometimes it's OK to laugh at the silly famous people just because they got drunk too close to a guy with a camera.

· Pity TV development executives, whose summer vacation plans are ruined by the current shift to year-round programming. [Variety]
· The festivities in honor of Paramount's We're Number Two! Week continue, as THR hoists once-embattled studio president Gail Berman on its shoulders and parades her around the Melrose lot to celebrate Nacho Libre's strong second-place opening. [THR]
· Today's opening of Click should serve as the John the Baptist for the twin blockbuster Christs that will deliver Hollywood unto summer box office salvation, Superman Returns and Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. [Variety]
· THR's Up With Female Studio Execs Day also features a fine piece on how Stacey Snider is doing in her new gig at DreamWorks. [THR]
· New Line unambiguously declares its desire to be in the "rakish-but-charming bachelor finally opens up his heart and meets the woman of his dreams" business, signing up Matthew McConaughey's production company to a development deal and working to insert the actor into two of its pre-existing comedy vehicles. [Variety]

Penelope Cruz, Matthew McConaughey Split [AP/NYT]
Related: Breaking Times Styles News: Bruce Pask Still Hasn't Shaved [Media Mob/NYO
Earlier: Stop the Presses: Thursday Styles Lies About 'Spin' Beards!

Fridays are supposed to be happy days, so it brings us no joy to inform you of the snuffing of yet another incandescent point of celebrity love light: Matthew McConaughey and Penelope Cruz have "decided to take time off as a couple," according to People.

Thank God those middle-school girls were fast, because the last thing a star at the height of his romantic comedy powers needs is a statuatory rape scandal.

Just now, via the time-honored tradition of a sit-down on the Today show, People magazine announced their utterly unsurprising pick of actor Matthew McConaughey for Sexiest Man Alive with Excellent Plugs (sorry, Graydon — maybe next year!). You already knew the outcome of this intense competition, however, because you read it in Page Six last week.