• Rich ladies are miffed that social-lites Olivia Palermo and Tinsley Mortimer, who were supposed to host that Darfur benefit Josh and Nikola dragged themselves to, were no-shows. "We think the only people who truly suffered from their selfish no-shows are the poor citizens of war-torn Darfur," one organizer hissed to Page Six. Seriously, talk about adding insult to injury. [Page Six]
  

That Cameron Diaz flick filming over in Chelsea? Actually called "What Happens In Vegas." But this iteration of the title from the parking placards around town is nice too. If possibly invasive. Or gynecological.

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are posted several times a week, so send them in often. (You have only yourselves to blame if they seem a little light or less than chockful of A-listers sometimes.) Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line so we don't lose them) and share your amateur analysis of Tori Spelling's psychological state based on some observation while shopping.

Isolated by immense fame and doomed to romantic lives in which the intimacy of every promising first date is ruined by the swarms of paparazzi hoping to take photographs of their fleetingly revealed genitalia as they linger over dessert, Hollywood's hottest actresses stand little, if any, chance of finding true love in the "self-absorbed" show business world, an infernal, Alighierian circle of perpetual loneliness.

You read Us Weekly for the articles. You can't help but be interested in what Lindsay Lohan snorted, ran her car into or slept with this week. But, you went to college, you read the new Chabons and Lethems as soon as they come out! You're not a vapid person! Good news: Celebrity is not only a major driver of the economy, it's a subject worthy of academic scrutiny. University of Southern California professor Elizabeth Currid, PhD., explains the sociology of fame and pop culture.



Like most people who've lived in New York or Los Angeles for a while, I am no longer thrilled about running into celebrities for the sake of running into them. It isn't all that interesting any more, even though it's still amusing to remark, "I ran into Scarlett Johansson and she is so much hotter in person." (She so is).

Above, Cameron Diaz selflessly decides to dispose of a stack of scripts for projects she's passed on by dumping them in a recycling bin. It may not seem like a lot, but if every $15 million-per-picture actress were to do the same, the cumulative effect would be enough to neutralize a weekend's worth of emissions produced by a lesser-enlightened starlet's commute to and from Winston's in a Range Rover. Answer the call.

· Rehab is easy; developing the upper body strength necessary to accurately portray a murdered stripper is hard.
· John Travolta would like you to know that there was nothing gay whatsoever about his dressing in drag for Hairspray, and even if it was a little gay, his incredibly tolerant religion would be OK with it.
· "Criss Angel's wife says the magic has gone from their marriage and she now wants to make him vanish from her life." Also, she is unhappy with her estranged husband's "repeated attempts to saw rumored new girlfriend Cameron Diaz in half with his penis."
· Hey, unicorns! On the JesusPhone!

• Did you know that the members of Fleetwood Mac used to do a ton of coke?[Page Six]
  

· Court TV explores the explosive intersection of molesty elves, Dolly Parton, and dinner theater.
· A bullet to the head: the miracle cure for so many of life's little problems.
· Things have gotten so bad for ditzy famous people that they can hardly purchase a really cute Chinese handbag emblazoned with Commie slogans without human rights watchdog groups shitting all over them. Will the persecution never end?
· And you know what? If Clooney was walking around with one of those Commie-purses, we bet the press would just give him a free pass, what with all the Darfur stuff and whatnot.

Last week, in a frenzy of streamlining, we killed the morning gossip roundup. Well, we were crazy! Now back by popular demand!

· Fox reaches into a hat containing slips of paper with the names of actors, wacky situations, and clichéd expressions written on them, producing the Cameron Diaz/Ashton Kutcher project What Happens in Vegas, the story of two people who wake up to discover they've gotten married—and won a huge jackpot!—following a night of debauchery. [Variety]
· Get on the phone with your friends and figure out who's going to host the viewing party: The The Hollywood Reporter's 36th Annual Key Art Awards are coming! [THR]
· Elijah Wood playing Iggy Pop? Sure, why not? After yesterday's announced Tim Allen/David Mamet project, we're open to anything. [Variety]
· Fox signs up 24 for two more seasons, keeping Kiefer Sutherland in beer money through 2009. [THR]
· Cannes kicks off today! Obviously we're not there, so we feel we can be bitterly dismissive of all the Rivieria-side orgies we're missing out on. [Variety]

A whirlwind promotional tour for Shrek the Third has, unfortunately, given all of us an unsolicited glimpse into the well-ventilated mind of Cameron Diaz: She recently described to Meredith Viera on Today the fascination with her personal life as being "like high school, isn't it? We as celebrities are like the popular kids. People want to know our business." (Yes, that's exactly right! And Justin is the QB, and The Ivy is the cafeteria, and Variety is the student newspaper!) Now comes this curious quote, shared with rarely seen paleolithic Hollywood gossip entity Jeanne Wolf:

· The man who gave us Jar Jar Binks (and who glued two hair-danishes to Carrie Fisher's head and gave Hayden Christensen a career) knows a "silly" movie when he sees one.
· We're stunned that yesterday's Hasselhoff parody video is placing a weak eighth on the Hoff Viral Video charts. And this mash-up is still too new to chart, but we think it's a comer.
· Rub a 20-year-old lamp and a studio genie will bring you $1.6 million.
· Hamas decides there's a better way to call for an Islamist liberation of Jerusalem than through a Militant Mickey Mouse character.
· Please pardon us for a minute, but: OMG OMG! Cameron TOTALLY KISSED JUSTIN! OMGOMGgonnadie! There, now that's out of our system.

The date: February 3rd 2007
The place: 2nd at 13th
Sighted: "Saw Drew Barrymore and Cameron Diaz, they were fighting with the bartender because they thought he charged them ten dollars too much. They ended up throwing money at him and storming off. Lame. They make how much a movie?"

Because no end to the regular comingling of celebrity fluids is final without the issuance of a joint statement announcing their amicable goodbyes, we bring to you the official, publicist-assisted obituary of Justin Timberlake and Cameron Diaz, R.I.P.:

If the Emmys are the Oscars' paste-eating cousin, we're nearly at a loss for what familial metaphor to apply to last night's People's Choice Awards—perhaps the PCAs are its chain-smoking, lupus-afflicted aunt with an internet gambling problem. Last night's procession of winners offered some unsettling glimpses into the state of current American popular favor (three words: Favorite Group: Nickelback), interrupted occasionally by a truly creepy, cosmetics-sponsored complexion prize. (Congratulations, Sandra Bullock, on your sweet, OLAY Total Effects Award victory!) Favorite Female Movie Star Jennifer Aniston and Favorite Leading Man Vince Vaughn (as opposed to Favorite Male Movie Star Johnny Depp—a not-very-clever way to get two movie stars to show up), recognized for their prescient work in The Break-Up, were both on hand to accept. So was Cameron Diaz, who concluded a rambling acceptance speech on how much she loves her "job" with a lightly-encoded kiss-off to recent dump-in-a-box gifter Justin Timberlake, who appeared live via satellite:

Justin Timberlake has had a busy year, having successfully campaigned on behalf of the return of sexy after it suffered a series of sexy-rights abuses during its internment at the Guantànamo Bay detainment camp, and more recently focusing his attentions on the creative wrapping of his genitals. Sadly, however, there were no bow-adorned penile presents under the tree for Timberlake's longtime girlfriend Cameron Diaz this Christmas, according to a report from Star magazine:

Today, we bid a tentative farewell to longtime couple Justin Timberlake and Cameron Diaz, who, according to Star (not online, via Dlisted), have called it quits. Perhaps a diamond ring or a house in the hills would have gone over better after all.

While some will see Cameron Diaz's accusation that a renegade photographer tried to mow down the actress and boyfriend Justin Timberlake as evidence that the paparazzi have added attempted vehicular manslaughter to their celebrity-menacing repertoire, we prefer to think of the incident as an unexpected opportunity for freelance photographers to add a new category of candid shot to their famous-people-hiding-under-jackets-while-flipping-the-bird standards: The Hit and Run. Tabloids and glossies alike are sure to pay unprecedented sums for images of celebrities scattering from the path of a black SUV traveling at high speed, or for true money-shots of less-agile actors splayed on the hood of the photographer's vehicle, their faces uncomfortably pressed against the windshield glass and captured from the driver's POV. It's an idea hinted at by last year's paparazzi-induced Lindsay Lohan fender-bender, but ready to be taken to the next level with celebrities careless enough to leave the safety of their German-engineered cocoons.

Because we realize that a "Lindsay Lohan falling head-first down the stairs of the Chateau" spotting can only be fully enjoyed when served at its peak freshness, we are now committed to publishing reader-submitted PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings several times a week. Send yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let everyone know about the time you saw Keanu Reeves and Tate Donovan on a double date at the Hollywood Bowl.