Note: In an effort to better serve you, the person who makes plans at the last minute, we're going to try and post our To Do list earlier in the day. The appearance of this post at 3 pm or earlier isn't signalling that we're kicking off work early, so don't close that browser just yet—there are still more man-hours to waste.

Only Defamer's forensic photo lab can provide the kind of cutting-edge, highly-technologizified analysis that we've applied to a digital photograph of Lindsay Lohan's unexpected tête-à-tête with an overzealous paparazzo last night. Lohan remained safely inside her vehicle, while the poor car experienced the kind of damage the starlet usually inflicts on any bitch crazy enough to ask why she's cutting the bathroom line at Spider Club.

TVGasm proudly displays the obviously-contractually-obligated- but-you've-gotta-be-fucking-kidding-me For Your Consideration ad in today's Variety touting Rosie O'Donnell's, er, special turn in Riding the Bus With My Sister. Will the screeners arrive in ill-fitting overalls and mismatched sneakers? One can only hope they will.

Dear Beloved Readers,

A tipster on the Paramount lot writes in to tell us that Mission: Impossible 3 seems somewhat less ripe for cancellation than the recent item on the Huffington Post indicated:

Was your Young Hollywood money not considered green enough to snag an invite to tonight's Hillary Clinton fundraiser at Roland "I Blew Up the White House During the Clinton Administration" Emmerich's place? Well, Aggrieved Potential Donor Man, don't even think about crashing—this party's gonna be locked down tighter than a young choreographer's junk at Bible camp. LA Observed has the e-mail outlining the security procedures:

· Hillary Clinton is in town to rifle through the pockets of the entertainment industry for campaign donations. Obligingly, there's an opportunity for people of every tax bracket to hobnob and give away money:
$1,000 gets you a chance to dirty the furniture at Warner Bros. COO Alan Horn's house, while a budget-minded $125 cover gets you past the velvet rope at Roland Emmerich's pad (co-hosted by Scarlett Johansson, Jake Gyllenhaal, Xtina, and famed Dem booster Lindsay Lohan). [Variety]
· No-name director Matthew "Who? Oh, I saw the preview for Layer Cake, looks kind of bad" Vaughn leaves Fox's X-Men 3. Desperate to start shooting, Fox is looking to sign up a "promising young helmer" from USC who's made a "kick-ass slideshow" in iPhoto. [THR]
· A $61 million opening for Madagascar isn't enough to keep DreamWorks Animation's stock from dropping 9 percent. Who on Wall Street does studio boss Jeffrey Katzenberg have to climb up on a milk crate and blow to get some respect? [Variety]
· ABC makes $2.7 billion in upfront advertising deals, Teri Hatcher's publicist to immediately start referencing her client's "Billion Dollar Rack." [THR]
· The Farrelly Brothers, the guys responsible for inspiring nearly a decade of splooge jokes in lowbrow comedies, are closing to signing a deal to rewrite and direct a remake of The Heartbreak Kid for DreamWorks. [Variety]

Semi-evil blog magnate Nick Denton's placenta has once again fallen to the floor of the mothership, and Gawker Media's 13th blog has been yanked from between his life-giving thighs. They call it Oddjack, and it's obsessed with gambling and everything gambling-related (like placing odds on the likelihood that Paris Hilton will soon procreate). Head on over there and make the new kid feel like the next year of his life won't be filled with lashings from the boss's cat o'nine tails.

In an effort to focus on their upcoming movie and diffuse some of the tabloid heat generated by their recent African sex safari and Moroccan sex-bazaar quickies, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie's handlers have booked them in separate hotels (such is the power of their sexual attraction that Pitt would drill a glory-hole in the wall with his genitals if they were housed in adjoining rooms) during a New York jaunt for some TV appearances. And just so everyone knows their people aren't fucking around about playing coy with the couple's relationship, Pitt's publicist broke the glass on her Emergency Flack Kit :

Because it's frowned upon for someone to look a reporter in the eyes and say, "Look, I took the job because whether I direct Chinatown or Dunston Checks In, the bank insists that I make the mortgage payment on my Malibu beach house every month," Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants director Ken Kwapis is forced to rationalize his participation in the movie for the LAT:

Last night, Lindsay "The Incredible Shrinking Starlet" Lohan was involved in an accident that didn't involve a Spider Club patron spilling a vodkatini on her shoes and being grievously lacerated in retaliation by one of the actress's jutting ribs, when an overeager paparazzo smashed his vehicle into the Lohanmobile by the Beverly Center. The AP has a blurb about the tragedy this morning, but a Defamer operative checked in with a report moments after the incident unfolded last night (what, you thought we were going to blog after quittin' time without a fatality?):

Burning down a deserted building in the name of movie promotion seems like an extreme stunt, even by Hollywood standards, but tossing all of those homeless people wearing flame-licked "Mr. and Mrs. Smith Drops June 10th!" t-shirts off the roof was really overkill.

· At the KROQ Weenie Roast, comedian Brody Stevens catches Pat O'Brien—listening to music and putting on a sweater!
· If you bonged your way through this television season's final episodes, SMRT-TV's got your short-term memory's back with their handy chart of cliffhangers. Hold on, someone died on Desperate Housewives? That must've been awesome.
· Brooke Shields to Tom Cruise: I don't come down to your job and slap the e-meter out of your mouth, so why you gotta hate? Also: Someone we've never heard of uses her "female intuition" to surmise that some "very damaging information" about Cruise might be surfacing soon.
· ABC expects to sell over $2 billion in upfront ads; NBC's Jeff Zucker will reveal tomorrow that he traded 30 seconds of commercial time during Joey for a handjob that was like "pulling weeds."

· Daniel Libeskind, big-shot architect and designer of the new World Trade Center complex, will chat about his work, his life, and, perhaps, his favorite Prince album (anything can happen at these things) at the Disney Concert Hall downtown. It's not cheap (tickets are $45-$90), but chances are if you're the type to attend an architecture chat, you've got the funds.
· By now the entire wine industry is tired of all the Sideways jokes (if not the increased sales), so if you check out tonight's Tuesday Tasting Series at the Buffalo Club in Santa Monica, please, none of that "I'm not drinking any fucking merlot!" stuff. Oh, who are we kidding? You're going to do it anyway.
· Music happens: The Headphones (featuring Dave Bazan of the better-known Pedro the Lion—better known to us, anyway) at the Troubadour; PINE*am (pretentious asterisk theirs) at Amoeba (for free, naturally); Radio Vago at Spaceland.

The Truth in Cosmetic Surgery Blog, run by a Real Plastic Surgeon, may help put an end to one of the internet's favorite party games: speculating about the vacillations in Lindsay Lohan's bra size:

When a major news story breaks, we often like to cast the topical movie that will certainly be rushed into production. Producers: If you can't get through to Kevin Spacey's people right away, be patient. Those five minutes you spend listening to the Beyond the Sea soundtrack while on hold will be worth it.

It took us nearly five hours of non-stop, professional grade web-surfing (read: a reader submitted it) to finally find post material that has absolutely, positively no connection to Tom Cruise, but ask and Craigslist shall provide:

Our Huffington Post bookmark has atrophied beyond repair over the last couple of weeks, but a reader with a higher tolerance than ours for Arianna Huffington's online cocktail party points out this Cruise-related HuffPo exclusive from last night:

While the unwashed masses piled into automobiles and legroom-bereft economy airline seats to escape our fair city for the holiday weekend, the industry's distressingly thin stall-monkeys, untalented, less attractive younger sisters, and semifamous, vaguely ethnic television gardeners assembled at the usual spot for the usual night of unremarkable fame-related stuff:

· Return of the Sith continues to dominate overseas box office with a cumulative take of $246 million, largely due to George Lucas' controversial decision to export the movie exclusively in an Aramaic version. [Variety]
· Fans of Joan of Arcadia plead with an uncaring God (i.e., Les Moonves) to reverse the show's cancellation. Moonves bellows with laughter, then smites the Joan boosters' village with a tidal wave. [THR]
· Hot off roles in this weekend's $60 million earners The Longest Yard and Madagascar, Chris Rock announces he'll write, co-produce and star in The Gilmores of Beverly Hills, with buddy Adam Sandler's Happy Madison producing. Nota bene: Rock's last two movies were Head of State and Bad Company. [Variety]
· Does the last Star Wars mark the end of the "superfan"? Star Wars nerds, Trekkies, Deadheads, and Phish fans will soon gather for some chaste consideration of their plight while tripping face in a convention center parking lot. [THR]
· "I don't care what it costs, get me Denzel! Oh, we already had Denzel? Get me Cheadle. At a price." Universal wants Don Cheadle to replace the once-attached Denzel Washington for the starring role in the perpetually troubled American Gangster project. [Variety]