It's been a little while since last we've checked in with the Phil Spector trial, in which time the defendant's trademark blonde bob has sadly lost its bounce and luster (see left). Still, not all hope is yet lost for the genius hit-maker who stands accused of murder, as the first expert witness for the defense insisted the gunshot that killed B-movie actress and House of Blues hostess Lana Clarkson was entirely of her own doing:

Despite his teary-eyed pleas for leniency, a judge has sentenced crank aficionado Tom Sizemore to 16 months behind bars for his May 8 arrest outside the Bakersfield Four Points Sheraton on suspicion of several drug-related charges, including statute 195.202, "Intention to chew a hole through one's cheek while under the influence of a controlled substance." From People.com:

Eddie Murphy, who since his soul-crushing Oscar night disappointment has withdrawn inside a fortress of fat-lady-latex solitude and refused to accept visitors, has remained highly skeptical of claims made by former girlfriend Scary "When Can We Drop These Idiotic Nicknames Already" Spice (aka Melanie Brown) that the child she carried to term last April was his own. Now, Brown's camp is telling People that the result of Murphy's June 11 DNA test prove the baby is "110 percent" his:

Kristy Swanson and Lloyd Eisler have escalated their attacks against Eisler's ex-wife, Marcia O'Brien, whose assault claims against Swanson during a child-visitation exchange gone awry led to the actress's arrest in Canada on Friday night. As the former Law & Order Anna-Nicole-channeler lists her wounds, her double-Lutzing boyfriend insists to Extra that it's the woman he abandoned while eight months pregnant with his second child who is the real villain in this international domestic incident:

Kristy Swanson is just the latest in a spate of Hollywood bimbos to swoop in on Canuck homes and snatch away their males like some demon race of bottle-blond, Canadian-man-craving succubi. In this case, the prize was her Skating with the Stars partner Lloyd Eissler, who abandoned his wife and two children to better pursue a love forged in the heat of third-tier reality show competition. A tense family reunion, meanwhile, got ugly Friday when Swanson allegedly turned all Buffy the Figure Skater's Ex-Wife Slayer on her romantic foe:

For those of you who prefer to live in the recent past, peering wistfully over your shoulders at the halcyon days when a neon-bethonged Kazakh reporter delighted audiences with his naïve take on sister-pimping and fist-shaped dildo usage, we bring to you news of yet more Borat-related litigiousness. No, not even the movie's Fleeing, Freaked-Out New York City Guy was able to find the humor in his brief but memorable cameo, as his somewhat late-to-the-party lawsuit outlines. Reports The Smoking Gun:

The curious matter of the missing fingernail evidence hovering over the Phil Spector trial has been partially settled today in something of a bombshell ruling from presiding Judge Paul Fidler. Prosecutors had accused the defense of having withheld a fragment of what was believed to be Lana Clarkson's fingernail, recalled by several eyewitnesses as having been collected at the crime scene by forensic scientist Henry Lee. From the LAT Spector Trial Blog:

If the name Coley Laffoon means nothing to you, that's probably because you've not been breathlessly following the developments in the ongoing kook parade that is Anne Heche's life. Laffoon was the cameraman that turned Heche off lesbian comic dance-Nazis and brought her back into the hetero fold. Five years and one child later, Laffoon is now filing for divorce, and dragging with him all of Heche's dark, tinfoil-hat-wearing secrets as they battle over custody of their five-year-old son, Homer:

A separate court hearing in the Phil Spector trial began yesterday, to determine what became of a possibly crucial piece of evidence gone missing from the investigation: a fingernail. Some background: In 2004, prosecutors filed a motion claiming the defense had discovered a fingernail blackened by gun powder residue at the crime scene. A clerk on Spector's original team led by Robert Shapiro claimed under oath that the evidence did exist, but it was a tooth, not a nail. Today, another one of Spector's former attorneys corroborated the nail story:

Paris Hilton has faced her share of adversity in the past, but nothing that couldn't be overcome by the snapping open of a compact to remind the wonky-eyed reflection therein, "They're all just jealous, 'cuz you're so hot. Text me, bestie!" But Hilton's latest troubles pit her against a foe so formidable, we doubt even a self-affirmation/nose-powdering will provide solace. We speak, of course, of the L.A. City Attorney, who has filed papers demanding she serve a month-and-a-half for violating probation on a DUI charge:

NBC Universal reportedly paid $1 million for exclusive access to Dannielynn Hope Marshall Birkead, a deal that is now culminating in her Journey to America, as well as an honorary godfather title and round-the-clock blankey duty for Access Hollywood reporter Tony Potts:

The testimony in the Phil Spector case took an unforeseen hiatus today, as defense attorney Bruce "Murder on Their Minds" Cutler has fallen ill. (In other news, high stress and hopelessness have been proven to wreak havoc on the immune system.) While we wait for the next disturbing chapter to play out on the witness stand, Radar Online provides a handy chronological compendium of half a century's worth of Phil Spector's patented brand of violent, gun-brandishing batshit insanity. It makes for stunning reading, beginning with a possibly formative 1958 incident in which the producer was urinated on by four pranksters in a public restroom, continuing to his days of fatherhood in the 1970s, when he'd allegedly lock his sons in their rooms, occasionally allowing them out so he could blindfold them and subject them to humiliating sex acts. Here's an entry about former wife Ronnie Spector née Bennett, the lead singer of The Ronettes:

A routine press tour to promote the Australian release of Rocky Balboa last February put Sylvester Stallone in an embarrassing predicament, as airport customs agents discovered 48 vials of human growth hormone inside the senescent action star's luggage. As Stallone fans Down Under cope with the shattering suspicion that their 61-year-old underdog screen hero may have achieved his gladiatorial frame through the use of banned substances, the actor himself has been cooperating with the Australian authorities:

Admittedly, we had prepared in advance for other possible outcomes, but in our hearts, we always knew that no amount of baby home hair-coloring products could cover the golden locks Larry Birkhead passed down to his genetic progeny. Moments ago, the elated Entourage background player announced to a gathered crowd that Dannielynn was 99.9999% his. Howard K. Stern then told reporters he was "obviously very disappointed," but that he would "do everything I can to make sure he gets sole custody," as opposed to the baby's overzealous grave-filling grandmother Virgie Arthur. Reports then have the two former adversaries hugging it out, bitch—a tender moment of reconciliation that would have been incredibly moving if it didn't instantly bring to mind the slashfic Stern-on-Birkhead fantasy that scarred us some weeks ago. Developing...

Because no aging actor's tumble into middle-age and the looming specter of obsolescence is complete without the forming of a musical vanity project available for booking at your next wedding, bar mitzvah or corporate event, it should surprise no one that Kevin Costner has a band, dubbed, for maximum movie star name recognition potential, the Kevin Costner Band. Spoiled perhaps by the white-gloved treatment to which he is accustomed from the LA-based Hollywood agents and managers handling his film career, Costner is suing the East Coast music promotions company he hired for failing to put his signature Costner sound on every iPod in America:

For some reason, rear-entry-popularizing spoken-wordsmith Snoop Dogg and airports don't mix; perhaps it's the airports' fault, stemming from their long-standing and well-documented biases against people who carry firearms and large Ziploc bags of weed on their person. Whatever the case, in an unfortunate turn of events that hearkens back to a Bobby-and-bodyguard pile-on incident at Heathrow last spring, the rapper was arrested yesterday at the Burbank airport on suspicion of illegal drug and gun possession:

The shadowy circumstances surrounding the death of Anna Nicole Smith's 20-year-old son grow ever more sinister, as the Bahamian coronor, an obvious cliffhanger buff, has told the AP that she now knows who and/or what led to the massive heart attack that killed him, but isn't yet at liberty to say: