Someone in L.A. is having a really shitty day, even though he may not know it yet. That's because a Silver Lake resident named Mack Reed (not to be confused with Gawker's Max Read, who would never find himself in the vicinity of marijuana) just so happened to stumble upon $175,000 worth of weed buried in his backyard, as chronicled on his Tumblr today. Reed promptly called the LAPD ("fucking narc, dude," says someone looking up from a bong rip), which means that there is a person in the L.A. drug game in a lot of trouble right now.

Demi Moore is down in Miami this week for Art Basel, hanging out with her post-Ashton catch Vito Schnabel. Like any normal American getting over an embarrassing, trying divorce, Moore was seen last night partying at Alex Rodriguez's house with Lenny Kravitz. At the party she was just being a very cool, totally non-embarrassing mom, who just so happened to be putting on an unsolicited audition for the Twerk Team, YouTube's foremost ass-shaking troupe.

Democrats and Republicans in the Senate are still at war over the oncoming "fiscal cliff" — a term used to describe the combination of tax increases and spending cuts set to go into effect on Jan. 1 — because they are children. Neither side wants to see the American economy fly off the so-called "cliff," and something is going to be done about it before the end of the year so that we don't get kicked into another recession (which is exactly the situation that played itself out with the debt ceiling). Of course, the Senate can't work on a gravely crucial agreement without self-important grandstanding and petty political posturing. Which brings us to Senate minority leader Mitch McConnell, the esteemed elderly turtle from Kentucky.

Earlier today an alleged nude shot of rapper Joe Budden leaked. (You may remember him from "Pump It Up" or his guest spot on Marques Houston's "Clubbin'," but let's face it: you probably do not). It's now strewn about the Internet—get an eyeful of it here, if you're inclined.

Last night, the nominations for the 2013 Grammy Awards were announced. At first glance, the most notable moment of the night was when for some reason someone allowed Taylor Swift to get onstage and beatbox. But soon after the nominations were announced, a few bloggers noticed something very curious about the nominations for Best Dance Recording, which include Skrillex, Calvin Harris, Avicii, Swedish House Mafia and Al Walser. You know these guys, all your little brother's favorite... wait, who the fuck is Al Walser?

The Mayans may not have been too far off predicting the end of the world in just 15 days, because today the Mormon church announced that it is softening its stance on homosexuality.

NASA has just released some nighttime images of Earth taken by an ultra-sensitive satellite 512 miles above its surface and They. Are. Gorgeous.

Family-themed adult films are nothing new.

Random House, the publisher of Fifty Shades of Grey and (every other fact is irrelevant), announced at its holiday party last night that every American employee—thousands of them, anyone who's been with company for a year—will be getting a $5,000 Christmas bonus. "The cheering went on for minutes," says the NYT.

A senior at Mother Teresa High School was less than saintly when he decided to sneak his nuts into a photo that was slated to be published in the Ontario school's 2012 yearbook.

CAIRO, EGYPT— The area between the Hardee's and Pizza Hut, on a dark and narrow road off of Tahrir Square, has become known as the "Bermuda Triangle." This is where women's bodies seem to disappear into the chaos and anger ripping through protesting crowds.

Her world may be caving in around her, but Lindsay Lohan rewarded herself with a jaunt to Philly—"America's Paris"—last night, to lust, to dance, and to Want.

Illegal immigrants seeking asylum in the Land of the Free may have this to look forward to.

A bungling burglar who got caught in the act felt he had no choice but to call 911 on himself for fear that the homeowner might shoot him.

Here is the IFC Network Press Team's official holiday card. Note that it is signed by hand by all four members of the IFC Press Team. Now, imagine how many hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of stupid identical holiday cards the IFC Press Team has to send out, the vast majority of them to random reporters the IFC Press Team does not even know or like. Imagine how many hours the IFC Press Team has to spend, sitting around a small table, signing their names to card after card after card, the vast majority of which will be tossed into the trash with little more than a moment's glance from their recipient. And, further, consider the fact that at least the IFC Press Team gets to write their hundreds and hundreds of useless, unwanted Holiday Cards to a more interesting list of recipients than most of their PR industry peers, who are forced to sign hundreds and hundreds of their own unwanted Holiday Cards and mail them to lists of finance professionals, or sporting goods store owners, or auto dealership managers, or floor wax salesman. Or clients. Consider having to write these god damn cards to hundreds of your asshole clients. And then being forced to attend your clients' holiday parties. Consider that.

What's it like to have sex with Elmo (puppeteer Kevin Clash)? Be prepared for frequent phone calls, poppers, crystal meth, "a game between 'father and son,'" and the presence of Clash's driver. And also, be underage.

On Monday we told you about the weird story of how Vice Magazine accidentally revealed the secret hiding place of fugitive computer virus pioneer John McAfee. Well, McAfee was arrested in Guatemala last night, bringing his strange time on the lam to an end. Maybe? Or maybe not? Nothing is certain when it comes to John McAfee.

San Diego real estate mogul Marc Paskin is looking for love in a very unusual place: A highway billboard overlooking the 28th Street exit of the I-5.

One night you're on the train and you overhear a sweet old woman tell Jay-Z she's proud of him. The next night, a strange man flashes his penis at you then chases you through a subway station. New York's a great town.

Catalog is an experiment from the biz side of Gawker. (So to be clear, this post is not standard editorial). Now and then, we'll deliver content about products you can buy... or at least dream of buying. Today's contributor is Bureau of Trade, a digital authority in acquiring analog cultural objects.