· The O.C.'s Mischa Barton might be gearing towards a breakup with her hard-partying beau, oil heir Brandon Davis. The two haven't been photographed together since mid-March and if the paparazzi don't see it, it just don't exist. [R&M]
· Not content to merely rob the fashion closets, Cond Nasties are suspected of raiding coupons from the mailroom and then showing up at Lord & Taylor to redeem their hard-earned discount. [Page Six]
· CNN won't allow anchor Aaron Brown to be honored by right-to-die organization Compassion & Choices for fear of compromising the network's "objectivity." Hahahaha. [Lowdown]
· Will the FCC dip its sticky hands into the American Idol mess? More importantly, will you care? [Scoop]

What they don't tell you: By choosing the first option, you're automatically blacklisted from the DailyCandy email servers. But that's what you get for being poor and ugly, Debbie.

· BAM's Rose Cinema hosts a tribute to the late Susan Sontag, featuring an array of her work and some obligatory Warhol footage. Be sure to bring your experimental nostalgia. [flavorpill]
· Jen Bekman's downtown gallery hosts an opening reception for John Glassie's Bicycles Locked to Poles, an exhibition of photographs featuring — you guessed it — bicycles locked to poles. [Jen Bekman]
· Ben Folds plays a sold-out show at Town Hall tonight; if don your horn-rimmed glasses and pretend to be one his former "Five," maybe you can weasel your way in. [Upcoming]

We're not exactly theatergoers, so we can't pretend that we were able to greet the list of Tony nominees with any more enthusiasm that we could muster up for, say, the Sirius Satellite Network People's Choice Awards, but we do have to admit to feeling a little flutter in our hearts when we realized that, for the rest of her life, she'll be introduced as Tony Award-nominee Christina Appelgate. One can only hope that Jack Palance is handing out the statuettes. AB

Page Six reports that Paula Abdul had a moment on the set of Saturday Night Live last week, when she and the SNL cast were taping the show's opening monologue, which spoofed recent allegations that Paula had bedded a 2003 American Idol contestant. The Post reports that she burst into tears at one point, and then appeared stiff and uncomfortable during the sketch, and is said to be uncomfortable with the way it turned out. This is all strictly dog bites man turf-what guest host, when seeing the script for an SNL opening monologue, hasn't burst into tears? And that stiff and uncomfortable bit? That's what you call the rest of the show. MnG

We bet you thought we'd totally ignore Sunday's Times story on Nick Denton's it's not a media empire media empire because we were afraid of biting the hand that signs our paychecks, didn't you? Well, you're wrong - Nick doesn't sign the paychecks: He has Lockhart personally deliver those rolls of quarters fresh from the bank. Also, we ignored the story mainly because it's the same thing you see all the time: Evil British business genius denies that he's making money on his evil British business. Our objection to the piece was more aesthetic than anything else: Please, art directors of the world, we're begging you, make this the last fucking article about blogging where the subjects sit around with their laptops, okay? Why not try something new and interesting? Something like Denton sitting in a chair with a big waxed moustache cackling wickedly as Lockhart offers scraps of stale bread to the assembled employees. You know, something that really tells the story. Thanking you in advance, AB

A Hispanic Roman Catholic, a black Baptist and a Jew walk into a bar sounds like the beginning of a really racist joke, right? (It is; e-mail us for details.) But it's also practically the lede of a story in The Times this morning on the lonely life of the white Protestant in New York City politics. According to Sam Roberts, City Council Speaker Gifford Miller's (second Caucasian from left in photo) mayoral campaign is finding it difficult to gain ground because young Giff worships at the altar of Wonder Bread in a bagel and tortilla town. So Giff's trailing in the polls because of the color of his skin? Guess that aggressively boring thing is just a bonus. AB

· Weddings: Heidi Klum and Seal, Renee Zellweger and some Jimmy Buffett impersonator [Rush & Molloy]
· Tantrums: Comedy Central's Lindbergh baby, Dave Chapelle, unhappy dressing as wolfman (insert Robin Williams joke here) [Lowdown]
· Gags: New School University trustees tell Bob Kerrey to keep his mouth shut. Word of advice: Don't fuck with this guy; he will totally kill you in your sleep. [Page Six]
· Off the Rack: Tori Spelling drops her jewelry in her d colletage and it makes news. You'd think she had a show coming out or something. [Ibid.]

Welcome to day two of your Jessless journey through Gawker. Big thanks to Lindsay Robertson for all her help yesterday. Additional thanks to Jesse Oxfeld, who has continued to contribute his wit and wisdom well after we've required it. Jesse's like the guest who stays too long at the end of the party; you'd like to ask him to leave, but he's just so much help in cleaning up the empty glasses.

· Le Tigre is producing a track on Paris's new album, which is rumored to be titled Paris is Burning, so named for the #1 complaint at doctor's offices in L.A. (Sorry.) [Tiny Mix Tapes]

The Defamer Special Real Estate Correspondent returns from semi-retirement to take our readers on a virtual tour of C-lister Tia Carrere's home in the hills, which was featured in this weekend's LAT "Hot Property" column. The "bachelorette pad" has hit the market with an asking price of $1.5 million, and its amenities include Asian-inspired flourishes (the designer apparently had a flair for the obvious), a "giant" hottub (which undoubtedly has hosted its share of handsy producers), and the inevitable shrine to lost Hollywood semi-glory (Wayne's World figures prominently). Step inside at your own risk:

1) Colin Quinn, fellow SNLers Slovin and Allen, and Todd Barry, among others, make people laugh at Zipper Theater tonight to raise money for the 826NYC writing center. Like Dave Eggers doesn't already have enough of our collective money. [Flavorpill]

Meet 34-year-old Manhattanite Carlos Sosa, a simple man with a simple dream: to stay physically fit without enduring the constant harassment of predatory gym-going homosexuals. It seems Carlos can't enter a steam room or a shower area without witnessing the love that dare not speak its name. And, granted, it must have come as a bit of a shock to be hit on in an establishment which opened last year in a building that had housed the YMCA that reputedly inspired the famous Village People gay anthem. (Also, uh, it's in Chelsea. Do the math.)

Sightings are sent in by readers, half of whom probably make them up. Send yours to tips@gawker.com.

An imagined conversation between Paula Abdul and her publicist (whomever that may be) last week:

The buzz in North Salem, NY (and did you ever think you'd see those words in the same sentence?) concerns the mysterious landscaping events occurring at the home of one Michael Bloomberg. What nefarious scheme might our mayor want to keep private from the prying eyes of locals and the media? A summit with Karl Rove? A secret tryst with Bernie Kerik? The launch party for Radar magazine? (As if that's going to happen.) The sharp-eyed folks at The Times have the answer: It's all in preparation for daughter Emma's upcoming nuptials. No word yet on whether famously foul-mouthed mayoral spokesman Ed Skyler will be offering a toast, but we have heard a rumor that the cake will be in the shape of a West Side stadium. Which, you know, is the only way that thing will get built. AB

Which young pop star's recent apparent weight loss can be attributed to a couture-grade corset she wears 24/7? Word is, she even wears it under t-shirts!

But if there were formal education, we'd totally be there.

·Everyone in the universe is reporting that Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner are expecting a baby in November. No word on whether Matt Damon made the baby all by himself and is letting Bennifer take credit. [NYP]
·Cynthia Rowley says Demi Moore told her that she gets Punk'd every time she has sex with one-minute-manager Ashton Kutcher. [Lowdown]
·Fired "Apprentice" cast member Bren Olswanger claims he's glad Trump axed him "because $250,000 isn't enough to live on in New York."
[ELK] [sixth item]
·Ronald Reagan and Andy Warhol were, like, totally butt buddies or something. [Page Six]

In the darkness of media conservatism and one-party rule, oppressed liberals everywhere have been calling out for a champion, someone who might break the tyrannical yoke and siren-heavy regurgitation of R.N.C. talking points memos that is The Drudge Report. Today, that hero boldly strides forward: Yes, kids, The Huffington Post has launched! And what a launch it is! Julia Louis-Dreyfuss and Brad Hall yukking it up as if "Watching Ellie" never happened! David Mamet holding forth on computers as "hermaphrodite typewriter-cum-filing cabinet[s]"! That lady who married the guy who writes "Curb Your Enthusiasm" bitching about the automobile industry! Yes, it's a rich, rich tapestry. When important celebrities have a platform from which to dispense their well-informed opinions, everyone wins! We're sure the public will be voting Democratic in no time. Keep refreshing The Huffington Post throughout the day: We understand that at some point Arianna's going to offer a list of the top ten signs that your husband might be gay. —AB
The Huffington Post [huffingtonpost.com]