By now, it's accepted as fact that the best way to communicate with Hollywood's decision makers is through the creative use of billboards during Oscar season. The original version of this rolling anti-smoking advocacy ad will probably raise some awareness among studio heads huddled outside for their bi-hourly Marlboro Light, but why should certain Colombian interests not adopt a campaign targeted at the industry's influencers? Fun fact: No one ever died of lung cancer by blowing rails off a stripper's ass.

You heard it here first: Big-breasted psychics are white-hot right now. In an effort to stay in-step with their competitors' catching of the juggsy-medium Zeitgeist, later today ABC will introduce a six-episode Desperate Housewives arc featuring Anna Nicole Smith as a lesbian professional poker player who's spooked by her ability to commune with the dead.

From a beach in Aruba, Paris Hilton interrupts her vacation to momentarily acknowledge the inconvenience her hacked Sidekick has caused everyone:

Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.

According to today's New York Times, Miramax might be releasing 22 films in the next seven months as the Brothers Grimm—we mean Weinstein—prepare to leave Disney (cue: Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive").

Despite our desperate efforts, the rakish masses are still clamoring for Wes Anderson's painfully precious Team Zissou Adidas as featured in The Life Aquatic. The latest report in this hipster tragedy comes from the far off land of Seattle, where one man — despite his self-awareness — gives in to the lemmings of temptation:

· Star Jones has the E! network less than pleased; their ratings for the Grammys pre-show were down for 40% from when Joan Rivers hosted. The Oscars are Jones' last gig under her contract and, if she wants to get renewed, she might want to ask husband Al Reynolds to stop lurking in the background. [R&M]
· Fur-bedecked rapper P. Diddy ups the ante in the great game of Piss Off PETA: at a recent party he hosted in South Beach, live penguins were brought in for some sort of decoration. A rep insists the birds were special "entertainment" penguins, however, so they probably enjoyed being on display. [Page Six]
· Just days before Miramax's big pre-Oscar fete, Harvey Weinstein decides to disinvite several confirmed guests. Because, well, Hollywood copes with loss by lashing out at guestlists. [Lowdown]
· High-schoolers everywhere mourn the loss of Blink 182. The band, in an act of true mercy, are reportedly calling it quits. [Page Six]
· Russell Crowe: not good at math. [Scoop]

Dear Paris,

Who says that Tom Cruise's wild devotion to Scientology is creepy? Certainly not us! (We hardly even notice the white van that's been parked across the street from Defamer HQ for six months anymore.) L. Ron's favorite kid is directing his incredible, strings-free generosity towards his War of the Worlds crew:

MSNBC's Jeanette Walls introduces us to the hottest new club in town, where even Kevin Smith is made to wait for service:

In times of crisis, peoples of all cultures have looked to learned elders to make sense of the world. We at Gawker are no different.

· Post-punk a cappella darlings The Futureheads yelp their way through a set at Bowery Ballroom tonight. Shout Out Louds and High Speed Scene, whoever they are, open. [BB]
· Monty Python legend Eric Idle reads from his web-journal (dare we say "blog?") he kept during a tour; his musings were later converted into a book. That means there's hope for all you 6,218,483 (at last check) Livejournal kids yet! [92Y]
· Laurie Anderson's The End of the Moon is a one-woman show inspired by her time as NASA's artist-in-residence, a government program which have yet to fully comprehend. See what your tax dollars paid for starting tonight. [flavorpill]

While the FBI is reportedly looking into who hacked Paris Hilton to pieces—erm, who hacked Paris Hilton's Sidekick—no one has yet to look into the Paris Hilton-Al Qaeda scandal which we are literally trying to create out of whole cloth.

Sadly, the FBI/CIA/DHS/Secret Service/HUD has yet to call us, and we're feeling a little neglected. To make matters worse, it's getting increasingly difficult to find many copies of Paris Hilton's hacked Sidekick files floating around. We can't just step aside and turn a blind eye; until we're handcuffed and watching Judith Miller drop the soap, we will make sure you too can witness the sad reality of Paris Hilton's number-collecting habit.

This driver in Silver Lake knew that wrapping his SUV around the nearest tree would be far less painful than having to consider the horrors contained within a single frame of Son of the Mask. A billboard hasn't had this effect on motorists since Vincent Gallo invited those stuck in traffic on the Sunset Strip to ponder suicide underneath a 30-foot image of his cinematic fellatio.

· Danielle Scott, a woman whose sole dream is to see her name in boldface, claims she was punched in the face by "Whatever" boy Fabian Basabe after a drink-spilling scuffle at Marquee. Fabian issues his standard denials and we're inclined to believe him — he seems more like a hair-puller than a puncher. [Page Six]
· Macaulay Culkin and Hank Azaria are both still alive and quite possibly enjoying the art of illegal gambling. [Lowdown]
· Guns n' Roses guitarist Slash has lost his signature top hat to the hands of a thief. First Paris, now this — when will we learn to treat our D-listers with respect? [Page Six]
· Lyle Lovett got a tour of the Federal Air Marshal training facility, so everyone should feel really, really safe. [R&M]

We were lying in bed last night (yes, everyone at Gawker shares a bed—and a single toothbrush), cozied up with our hot cocoa and engrossed in our copy of Paris Hilton's hacked files, when we noticed something very interesting. Ken Baker, the West Coast Executive Editor of US Weekly, is listed in her address book. Granted, it's not unusual for celebrities of Paris' character to have the contact information for their tabloid puppetmasters on hand, but there are also some items in her notebook that have our internal hamsters spastically running on their wheels:

Mid-Mesozoic period gossip columnist Cindy Adams ignores the biggest hacking story to hit gossip journalism since the Black Dahlia to sit down for a chat with New York's favorite disgraced former Police Commissioner (and almost sorta Bush appointee), Bernard Kerik.

Reports of The Hack Heard 'Round the World are coming in from, well, around the world. Americans may be proud to claim Paris Hilton as our own, but she also belongs to the world. And the world is all over this story.

· Just in case you weren't already invited, PR jackanapes Jonathan Cheban is celebrating his birthday tonight at Butter (sponsored by Evian, Lean Cuisine, and Hazmat). We're assuming the party will be downstairs, of course, and things start after 11. Be sure to RSVP to Lizzie so she can put you on the list, k?
· Remember when you were a total slut in college? Remember when people saw you being a total slut in college as you made the 6:00am trek back to your dorm room wearing the same clothes as the night before? If so, then "Brutal Honesty: The Walk of Shame" at Sutra 16 is for you. [Upcoming]
· Tonic continues its last-ditch effort to save itself by bringing in freak-folker Devendra Banhart. [Tonic]
· Part-time rapper, part-time DJ, full-time hustler Princess Superstar takes her one-track mind to Lit tonight. 9pm for all you horny single males out there. [NY Press]