Are you filled with bile about the drivel that spews from your beloved cable box? Good news: a glorious opportunity to make your outrage known has arrived, via Karmaloop TV. It's called Reclaim Your TV, and the benefits are two-fold: you'll unleash your perfectly-articulated rant into the ether (perhaps landing in the ears/eyes of actual cable execs), and you'll be entered to win a new, ultra-cute wardrobe, courtesy of Karmaloop.com (the repository of all things cooler-than-thou).

South Korean media discovered Kim Jong-Il's grandson's Facebook page on Saturday and are having a field day picking over his blog and photo galleries. Turns out he's just a geeky high schooler who likes American movies and gets in comments flame wars.

Internationally famous rap star Tupac Shakur was shot dead in an extremely public fashion in 1996. Internationally famous rap star Biggie Smalls was shot dead in an extremely public fashion in 1997. Still, no one has ever been charged with their murders. That is some bullshit. However! A new book from a former LAPD investigator on the case has very interesting story to tell.

Supposedly Madonna is the latest superstar set to perform at the Super Bowl halftime show. Let's hope she pulls a Janet Jackson. She wouldn't be Madge if she didn't do something controversial and blind viewers with an exposed body part.

Alexis Stewart drops a bombshell: She has seen her mother pee, and it was disturbing. Elizabeth Hurley gets engaged. James Marsden gets divorced. Joseph Gordon-Levitt ruminates on the relative sexiness of slaves. Monday gossip has mommy issues.

Against the odds, a feel-good story about a fish of some sort beat all the competitors this weekend. Meanwhile baseball is more popular than cancer, though cancer is respectably popular.

Rob Kardashian has some juicy gossip from your mom's favorite show, Dancing with the Stars: one of the couples is doing the horizontal mambo. This producer paid for his lover to get rid of a pregnancy and this singer is paying the paparazzi to take her picture. She needs to get on Dancing with the Stars.

The annual War on Christmas—dormant since the bloody Holiday Battles of 2010—is back in full swing, according to a breaking news bulletin from local crazy cat woman Andrea Peyser. Even worse: now they're coming after the Jews!

Gawker staff writer John Cook appeared on NBC's Today show on October 3, 2011. Check out the clip above. For media requests, please contact Kevin Prince at kevin@gawker.com.

Gawker friend Aaron Jamison—who approached his own terminal cancer with a wry and sometimes morbid sense of joy, starting with his plan to sell ads on his own cremation urn to help defray the costs of his medical bills—passed away last weekend. His wife Kristin has written an appreciation of her husband that can be read here. Aaron's blog, in all of its inspirational glory, can still be found here.

Usually we associate zombies with lame suburban pub crawls, but not today! Today is Zombie Flesh Mob Day, brought to you by the makers of Occupy Wall Street. The protesters have taken back "zombie" and given it to the people, to make a statement about corporations.

Over the weekend the city of Chico, California hosted the U.S. National Yo-Yo Championships, just like it does every year, and there were winners! Nimble, lightning-fast winners, most of whom were male. In fact, only one woman competed in this year's contest: 19-year-old Ann Connolly, who won the "Best Girl Player" award. WTF, ladies? Stop having babies and get cracking on your Rock the Babies. Stop sleeping and start practicing your Reverse Sleepers. Let's estrogenize that thing next year.

As if you needed another excuse to skip church: In Viareggio, Italy, 46-year-old Aldo Bianchini blinded himself and permanently scarred everyone else attending mass at Sant'Andrea church when, during the priest's sermon, he suddenly stood up, ripped his eyes right out of their sockets with his bare hands, then "collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood."

A 20-year-old sex tape starring rapper and Kiwi-in-hiding Tupac Shakur has suddenly popped up for some reason. Highlights include singing, dancing, and a cameo from Money B from Digital Underground. Oh, and sex! Only oral, though. [Image via AP]

News that Texas governor and Republican presidential candidate Rick Perry used to hang out and hunt at some west Texas hunting camp called "Niggerhead" hasn't made him too many new friends among the American public. Oh well! At least he's still got his old friends to support and help him. Or hurt him. Helpfully hurt him.

You can't spell "NPR" without "PR," as in "disaster," as in what that particular media organization had more than its share of in 2011. Former CEO Vivian Schiller resigned last March in the wake of the Juan Williams firing and James O'Keefe undercover video fiascos. Now that position has been filled by Gary Knell, a Sesame Street producer and CEO of Sesame Workshop, who'll use his hands-on experience in cookie budgeting and grouch negotiations to move NPR past the bumpiest period in its history to where the air is sweet.

Every day, celebrities across the world are followed and photographed by the omnipresent paparazzi, often to entertaining results. Here are some of our favorite shots from the past week.

Jerry Brown struck a mighty blow to the Occupy Foreskin movement on Sunday, as the California governor signed a bill preventing local governments from banning circumcision in males. Back in July, a judge had ruled a ballot proposal outlawing circumcision in San Francisco, backed by 7,700 supporters, to be unconstitutional. Now, thanks to bill AB768 — or what will eventually come to be known as "Jerry's Bill" — no male child in California will ever be denied his God-mandated right to circumcision again. Let the protests commence! Bay Area Urban Docking League, you have the floor. [AP]

With his normally cluttered desk wiped clean and his hair slicked back—his eyebrows, however, roamed free—curmudgeonly commentator Andy Rooney signed off from 60 Minutes tonight. In his final show-ending segment, the 92-year-old said he is and will always be a writer before anything else, apologized for the (very few) times he's been wrong, and reminded us that we should never, ever approach him in a restaurant.

For several years, British woman Nicole Lindsay says, she had a boyfriend named Lee. Or so she thought she had a boyfriend. Because Lee lacked the proper equipment to be a boyfriend—i.e., a favorite sports team. Oh, and a penis!