With Paris Hilton reportedly blaming Elliot Mintz in open court for her failure to understand the finer implications of a suspended license, it was unsurprising that the trusty PR manservant would be swiftly dispensed with. The flack's shitcanning instantly elicited a conundrum: Who issues the P.R. statements for disgraced P.R.-statement-issuers? (That would be Mintz himself, who holds no ill will towards Paris, her family, or anyone else associated with those backstabbing motherfuckers.) As for Paris herself—the wonky eye at the center of this particular celebrity shitstorm—well, she feels it's just not fair:

In a shocking decision that has shaken our faith in celebrity slap-on-the-wrist justice and should quickly ignite a series of riots all the way from Hyde to Area (Molotov cocktails fashioned from bottles of top-shelf vodka will soon set ablaze the streets of West Hollywood, so avoid the district effective immediately), TMZ reports that Paris Hilton has been ordered to serve 45 days in jail for violating her probation, and is to begin her sentence (no work release, no sassy electronic ankle bracelets, and, we assume, no conjugal visits allowing her to keep her love life in the tabloids) on June 5th. We'll update if more information becomes available; we'll be spending the rest of our afternoon monitoring our inbox for the first reports of widespread looting on Robertson by angry mobs in Kitson's new line of FREE PARIS t-shirts.

It's always a sad affair when the relationship between high-earning talent and their people sours to the point that litigation becomes necessary, but at least the lawyers for Handprint Entertainment, the management company currently suing Ghost Whisperer star Jennifer Love Hewitt for money they believe they're owed, are having some fun with it. In addition to the zingers about Hewitt "having troubles resolving unfinished business with the living" and "listening to the tortious whispers of her new manager" you can see excerpted above from the complaint posted at THR ESQ, there's also one claiming she "knows what she did last season" in not turning over the 10 percent the prodigiously breasted actress "racked"* up in commisions.

A final attempt by Anna Nicole Smith's tenacious, pug-faced mother Virgie Arthur to prevent paternity sweepstakes winner Larry Birkhead from returning to the U.S. with daughter Dannielynn Hope Marshall Stern Birkhead (according to her reissued birth certificate!) has been shot down by a Bahamian court:

Will & Grace creators Max Mutchnick and David Kohan sued NBC Studios for (this might be a good time for any out-of-work sitcom writers to leave the room) $55 million in 2003, claiming the studio negotiated a substandard licensing fee for the series with its sister network. In a stunning turn of events, the judge tossed the verdict and canned the jury foreperson moments before the verdict was to be read:

Opening arguments for the Phil Spector murder trial began yesterday and resume today live on Court TV (WigWatch: A Level-8 Blonde Shag), where current title-holder of Hardest Working Man in Show Business, attorney Bruce Cutler, continues to lay out the groundwork of his defense. Phase One: Convince the jury Spector's long history of pressing guns to the head of women who refused to put out for him has no bearing on the trial. Phase Two: Coin your own nonsensical catchphrase, in the hopes that repeating it ad nauseam will somehow get your guy off:

One's already been arrested, one's still an international fugitive of justice. Both stand accused of crimes of passion, but one's weapon of choice was a container of baked beans, the other's his famously supple lips. One's an incurable nervous stutterer, the other's silky smooth.

When not taking the editors of Entertainment Weekly to task for daring to turn their noses up at examples of his populist, flaming-skull-laden mythic art, actor/thinker/star-of-the-people Nicolas Cage enjoys spending his leisure time amassing exotic sports cars. Three years ago, a crooked auto broker with an intimate knowledge of the market took advantage of Cage's unwavering faith in humankind, a breach of confidence for which he must now pay dearly:

Continuing the proud tradition established by the Hollywood Walk of Fame's own Head-Butting Chewbacca and Picketer-Baiting Batman, Melbourne, Florida's Genital-Touching Captain America has taken a place of honor in the Fake Superhero Justice League with his recent arrest, detailed by The Smoking Gun, on counts of drunken handsiness, marijuana possession, and third-degree package misrepresentation for his stuffing of a burrito into his tights during a costumed pub-crawl. TSG also has video of the booking, in which the disgraced defender of America is subjected to a humiliating, symbolic surrender of his crimefighting uniform's cowl and red boots.

After spending 14 unforgettable days and nights at an all-inclusive Panama City correctional facility—during which he was also hit with a federal indictment for tax evasion and busted with contraband pharmaceuticals and cash after attempting to bribe a guard—fallen flashcore video tycoon Joe Francis has been handed down a sentence for just the contempt of court portion of his current legal woes:

Paris Hilton may have ridden her personal philosophy of acting as stupidly as humanly possible in front of the maximum number of available cameras to unprecedented celebutard heights, but her recent probation violation for a DUI charge has posed her team with the kind of serious threat to their client's welfare that can not be easily brushed aside by right-hand flack Elliot Mintz's typical Jedi mind tricks:

Aware that Phil Spector's televised murder trial has the potential to quickly escalate into another media circus ("Phil! Phil! Whose wig are you wearing?!" "It's a Jackie by Jon Reneau!") the presiding judge has warned prospective jurors still in the running for having scored a "Not Completely and Utterly Obsessed With Celebrities" or lower on their screening questionnaires not to expect to use the high profile case to kickstart their stalled entertainment reporter and/or acting careers:

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:

Joe Francis's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week continued yesterday as he was formally charged on multiple counts for bribing a guard for a bottled water, leading to the discovery of cash and prescription meds in his cell. The AP is quick to remind us, however, that beneath every soft-core mogul and alleged despoiler of teenage virgins lies just a scared little boy and the mother who loves him:

Joe Francis, the Pied Piper of busty, barely legal co-eds with a taste for the handicam spotlight, has been having—to put it mildly—a bitch of a week. Currently doing hard, Panama City jail time for a contempt of court charge related to his photographing of underage girls in sexual situations, he was also served yesterday with a federal indictment for tax evasion, which carries with it a maximum potential sentence of ten years in a Camp Cupcake-like facility for boys. Now, like the cherry upon this glutonous, schadenfreude sundae, comes this report of a bribe he probably wishes he could take back:

As many snickered about a measly contempt of court charge that nevertheless offered satisfying dividends by way of seeing Girls Gone Wild founder Joe Francis thrown behind bars, few could have known that the Big One was trailing right behind. From The Smoking Gun:

As far as we are concerned, "Because it's Wednesday" is as an acceptable answer as any to the question, "Why are you running the Rip Torn DWI mug shot again?" It just so happens, however, that there has been a major development in the case, completely justifying another visit to Soused Rip Mountain:

Accused murderer Phil Spector can dress himself up in sensible pantsuits and wash-n'-go haircuts all he likes, but he is unlikely to be mistaken any time soon for a benign lesbian observational comic—especially as mounting evidence reveals a disturbing history of gun violence directed at women:

· Enjoy this video of Larry breaking the good news: "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but: I told you so!" If you look closely, you can see money being exchanged between the giddy Bahamian law enforcement officials in the background.
· Prince Zsa Zsa the Fourth's official concession statement is the model of good sportsmanship: "We never intended to take Dannielynn from anyone, we were just here in case Prince Von Anhalt was the father. We wish Larry luck in raising Dannielynn and we wish him the best." [TMZ]

As you may have gathered from the above TMZ headlines (omitted for space: "Person We Don't Recognize Arrives" and "EXCLUSIVE: Courtroom Door Opens and Closes Bunch of Times!"), we are but moments away from learning the results of the DNA tests that will determine the parentage of the last living Anna Nicole heir, Dannielynn Smith. Rest assured, we are keeping on top of this developing story that you have long since stopped caring about, but not so much that you don't want to find out how it all turns out. We now return to our regularly scheduled, non-babydaddy-related programming.