· We already told you that wee man Verne Troyer will drunkenly pee in an upcoming episode of VH1's The Surreal Life. Now our friends at VH1 would like to show you exactly how it all comes out. [VH1]
· The co-op board at tony residence The Dakota has turned down an application from Antonio Banderas and Melanie Griffith, stating they don't want another John Lennon incident (the singer was murdered there in 1980). So, um, John Lennon = Antonio Banderas? We don't follow. [IMDb (last item)]
· Oooh, finally, a Daily Candy for metrosexual men (yep, we said "metrosexual")! Gentlemen, it's the none too subtle Vitruvian Men. What, exactly, is vitruvian about the whole thing remains a mystery, unless the editors expect a particularly undulating audience. [VitruvianMen]
· Fading actor Richard Gere presumes to speak on behalf of the entire world to motivate the Palestinian vote; an open letter to Gere requests that he "shut the fuck up, dude." [The Corsair]

LA Observed has the breakdown of the swag bag that Golden Globes presenters will receive for their thirty seconds or so of drunken slave-labor in front of a hot teleprompter. The damage? $38,390, including a $16K trip to Australia, a $2,700 diamond pendant, and a $900 shawl. Yeah, that's a pretty nice take, even for people who make $38K in the time it takes their assistant to tie their shoes. But given the climate of selflessness that's gripped Hollywood in the wake of the tsunami disaster, we're sure every single presenter is going to donate their goodies to the relief effort. Surely there's a homeless family in Indonesia that can use $540 worth of Kiehl's to rejuvenate their weather-beaten complexions.

The celebrity endorsement of certain bottles of Heinz is old news, but spotting one of those special bottles in a local bodega is still worth noting. As consumers concerned for truthful and smart marketing, we have to wonder if Lindsay Lohan is a wise choice for a bottle of ketchup. It does imply that she's eating something requiring a condiment, and, well, we suspect that's just altogether unlikely.

A reader reports on last night's action at Koi, the location most likely to be sucked into a black hole once the universe finally rights the useless-celebrity equilibrium. Highlights: Nicky Hilton! Nicole Richie! Suge Knight! A motorcycle accident involving David Spade's car! The smell of brimstone as Lucifer himself was fellated by an agent from William Morris! OK, we may or may not have made up that last one. The report follows after the jump.

How our nerdy brother over at Gizmodo ever managed to score a sit-down with Microsoft BeastLord Bill Gates is beyond us, but we sure are damn proud of him. We wish we could do that sort of thing, but we're too busy sneaking out of class, smoking pot by the train tracks, and watching reruns of Dawson's Creek. Anyhow, Gizmodo even asked REAL questions and WROTE DOWN what Gates said in response! Totally professional reportage. We're beaming.
G-Money And Me: Bill Gates Interview [Gizmodo]

Special thanks to this week's advertisers, whose support helped us pay for our New Year's eve Pimps-n-Hos party. Interested in our sponsorship sorority? More info here.

Our sincerest apologies to Fabian Basabe: we've been long operating under a total misapprehension that the sorta-erstwhile "It" boy was gay. Sorry, Fabian, we were wrong. You are not gay in the least. Rather, you are very, very straight—so much so that you've slapped a 4-carat diamond on the hand of your fianc , La Perla heiress Martina Borgomanero. You're so non-queer that you're even planning on eloping with her this weekend, at the supremely macho Casa de Campo resort in the never-gay Dominican Republic. So, we got it wrong. We're sorry. Give us a call after your remarkably hetero wedding night, and we'll take you out for a drink at the West Village bar of your choice.
Suzy [WWD]

This is a helpful note to anyone thinking of relocating to L.A.: You'd better hit the gym, because every gig in town requires that you send a nude picture to your potential employer. Especially the server gigs:

· Bad news: adolescent pop boy Aaron Carter's car catches on fire, but he sadly lives another day. We wonder if this "accident" had anything to do with his trail of bitter exes. Yeah, Lohan, we're looking at you. [Page Six]
· Derek Jeter is fucking a model. Shock. Awe. [NYDN]
· International lothario Flavio Briatore has purchased a quaint bachelor pad in the city so he the baby girl he fathered with Heidi Klum. The "just to see my kid" getaway was a mere $11 million and is located at Beacon Court. [Page Six]
· Danny Masterson is still risking his life by dating violent Bijou Phillips. [Lowdown (3rd item)]

Because Britney Spears' Curious fragrance doesn't quite capture the essence of awesomeness that you've been so desperately seeking and Paris Hilton's self-titled scent smells like skank-ass, uber-twins Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen are entering the perfume party with not one but two fragrances: Coast to Coast NY and Coast to Coast LA. Get it? Two girls, two perfumes, two coasts? It's marketing genius! Will the Ashley scent smell like Butter co-owner Scott Sartiano? Will Mary-Kate's fragrance recall the odors of rehab while balancing a delicate, underlying hint of Starbucks? Will both evoke the bouquet of a multimillion dollar Morton Square condo? You'll have to wait until spring to find out. In the meantime, you can imitate the twins' signature smells by splashing yourself with Red Bull and rubbing Nobu's black cod with miso on your pulse points.
Smells Like Double Trouble [The Daily]

VH1 seems to have discovered a way to top the frisson of their Surreal Life Flavor Flav/ Brigitte Nielsen love match: Veren Troyer, aka, Mini Me taking a mini pee.

· Dirty-talking, innuendo-making Canadian Melissa Burns hosts "Because We Love You" at Orchard Bar tonight. If you attend and do not, in fact, love her back, please don't blame the messenger. [Paper]
· The kimono-clad Yoshida Brothers—Japan's version of Animal Collective—bring their neo-folk sound to the Knitting Factory tonight. That shit is free, too. [KF]
· Already at Knitting Factory? Too lazy to leave? Stick around for Cock Rock Disco, featuring laptop-smasher Jason Forest (aka Donna Summer) and Duran Duran Duran. [flavorpill]

Forget those played-out Balenciaga bags. A reader writes in with a tale that has us thinking our t-shirts just might be the "It" accessory of 2005:

While Ashlee Simpson is showered with boos, producer Jerry Bruckheimer smiles, knowing that his less conspicuous brand of evil will be totally ignored. For one more day, at least.
[Photo: Ralph Notaro/Getty Images]

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

Oh, man. This story is fantastic. Reuters reports:

The eastside community is suffering a little death with the imminent shuttering of the Vice store in Silver Lake. When, exactly, isn't clear, since the announcement sets the date for Sunday, January 8th at 6 p.m., which gives you either two or three days to take advantage of their clearance sale. We predict a hipster feeding frenzy; please arrive early or risk being bitten by someone in a thrift store t-shirt reaching for the same pair of Reebok Pumps. (Click on the thumbnail above to see the announcement.)

Those tireless kids at The Smoking Gun have done it again, having obtained 6 pages of disgustingly detailed evidence in the child molestation case against freakish pop star Michael Jackson. We've waded our way through the documents and if the following allegations are true, we're throwing out our copies of History. In the interest of journalism, we'd like to share some things that are sure to be the highlights of this upcoming courtroom drama. The best of the worst as compiled for your convenience after the jump.

We kind of love NYC tourists. After all, they all congregate in midtown and leave our neighborhood alone. But their presence does create some inconveniences and, while we kindly welcome slow-moving families from Kansas with open arms, we can't help but agree with a Craigslist poster who believes that there could be some improvements to the city's tourist system:

· New York is officially over (or are we reborn?): word comes that Courtney Love will be selling her Crosby Street loft in an effort to get her life back on track in LA. But who will throw microphone stands when she's gone? [Page Six]
· Investment advisor Jeffrey Silver is suing Watergate reporter Carl Bernstein for wrongly accusing him of stalking his wife. It turns out Silver was merely having an affair with—not stalking— Bernstein's lady. Simple mistake! [NYDN]
· Poor Paris Hilton's efforts to market her sweaty scent of rat poison have failed, as her perfume has been outsold by Britney Spears' fragrance. [Page Six]
· And the race is on to donate the biggest lump sum for tsunami relief! Director Steven Spielberg takes the lead with a cool $1.5 million, but watch for Gawker Media to steal the spotlight when we sacrifice all of our virgin interns to the effort. [R&M]
· Meanwhile, rich lady Denise Rich couldn't care less about the relief efforts and thus wore expensive jewelrey in Aspen. How insensitive, yet fabulous. [Lowdown]