The LAW's Nikki Finke returns from vacation with her scorched-earth Oscar picks. Here, she breaks down the race for Best Supporting Actress:

Porn star Tera Patrick's lost her dog at the mall (in the Valley, natch) and is recruiting the public to help her find him. We're glad to help out, especially because this is no ordinary pooch—Page Six says Chopper appears in her upcoming movie, Reign of Tera. Before you get any disgusting ideas, we're sure the dog's just an extra and not part of the action. Sickies, all of you.

How can Tara Reid's publicist continue to let her talk to the NY Post? Here's some free advice for her irresponsible flack: Steal her cell phone, chain her to the bed, and tell her that newspapers no longer exist. Even lab rats eventually learn to stop pushing the lever that electrocutes them.

· Courtney: So when’s the fat thing going to end?
Dave: When you stop eating.
Courtney: I’ve never been this fat in my life.
Dave: You need to stop eating. [via cityrag]
· Sharon Waxman and David O. Russell finally bury the hatchet, presumably with a minimum of fisiticuffs.
· Half-Blackface and Hanging Jokes: Two Johnny Carson Clips You Won't See on CNN This Week
· Yes, we did wind up quite minty fresh, thank you very much.
· The AP throws movie publicists a pity party after the Oscar noms were announced.
· No Shit Department: Jennifer Garner knew Elektra was going to suck and only did the movie because her contract said she had to.

· Concert round-up: Regina Spektor, who once joinied forces with the Strokes for a single, starts her two night run at the Hotel Café; Soundtrack of Our Lives brings their Swedish invasion and 70’s time-warp show to the Troubadour. We can almost taste the lava lamps. Meatballs. We meant meatballs. Or did we?
· Readings: World War II vet John Adler reads from his autobiographical novel Quest for Survival at Dutton’s in Beverly Hills. If you're not into "real" history (all those guns and bombs can be so depressing) and still want to be somewhat pointy-headed, Bergamot Station hosts French-American film scholar Michael Henry Wilson as he discusses A Personal Journey With Martin Scorsese Through American Movies, which he co-authored with the bushy-browed auteur. [info for both here]
· The UCLA Film and Television Archive presents a double bill of man-made disaster with Chernobyl Heart and Inheritance: A Fisherman’s Story, which explore the destruction caused by the Russian nuclear disaster and the dumping of 120,000 tons of cyanide waste in a Hungarian river, respectively. Fun for the whole green family!

Yes, this was actually in Lifetime's gift bag, and it wasn't even the best thing in it. That distinction went to a DVD copy of Meredith Baxter-Birney's Greatest Moments in TV Movie Bulimia.

Defamer Special Correspondent James Rocchi files a brief sighting from Park City via Crackberry:

While an 80th birthday makes most of us think about sticking our heads in the oven to relieve the burden on our children, Paul Newman is going to toss aside the walker and burn some rubber in the name of movie promotion:

A Defamer operative gathers empirical evidence that John Goodman was indeed alive and well (though with one less sitcom paycheck coming in) at Sundance:

The "unseen hand" that "virtually owns" Sundance has become a lot less invisible, as yesterday's NYT profiles Cinetic Media's John Sloss. Sloss has made a name for himself by helping to sell low-budget/high-return movies like Napoleon Dynamite and bleeding overanxious festival spenders like Miramax for every last dollar. (He's so good they call it "getting Slossed.") But don't be fooled—even though he's rolling in indie film cash, Sloss is serving a loftier purpose:

· Lion's Gate ponies up $4 million for the Sundance jailbait revenge drama Hard Candy. [Variety, THR]
· Miramax's 17 Oscar nominations and double Best Picture chances may be the Weinstein's final "fuck you" to Disney. Well, metaphorically at least. Harvey Weinstein will still probably make the occasional expletive-filled prank phonecall to a retired Michael Eisner. [Variety]
· Michael Mann reflects on how his movies (he produced The Aviator and directed Collateral) snagged 13 Oscar noms, but stops short of proclaiming himself the King of Hollywood. [THR]
· The Tonight Show's weepy Johnny Carson tribute special does predictably enormous ratings numbers. [THR]
· American Idol's huge Nielsens keep Fox from backsliding into WB/UPN territory. [THR]

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send your to tips@defamer.com and let the whole world know that Nic Cage wears huge heels.

A reader scolded us for missing this story (we were drunk, etc etc) about Brian Grazer's potentially fatal flight to Sundance:

We actually managed to score a pass to the Blender Sessions party on Monday night at Harry O's, featuring the bluntastic stylings of Snoop Dogg, but the venue was so overcrowded that we couldn't get in. When we showed up (admittedly, quite fashionably late after losing track of time across the street at the Palm Pictures event), a bouncer delightfully informed us, "I don't care who the fuck you are, we're 1400 people over capacity. No one is getting in there." We sincerely hope that the thick-necked gatekeeper had a gift for hyperbole, otherwise the like of Tobey ("Fatty McFat Fat") Maguire, Neve Campbell, Thora Birch, Scott Wolf, and, of course, Bishop Don "Magic" Juan risked incineration in the celebrity-packed firetrap. Does the world realize it was one unattended roach away from an incalculable tragedy? The tribute concert, however, would have been spectacular.

From her bunker in Park City, NY Times film reporter Sharon Waxman gives the New York Observer a little perspective on the unexlpoded-landmine-and-mass-grave-riddled Hollywood beat:

We've finally returned to the real world, leaving behind the Xanadu nestled in the mountains of Utah, where regular people walk the same streets as A-list actors, where studio-sponsored free alcohol flows like a development exec's urine over his assistant's spec script, and where a movie premiere is a snowball's throw away at any given time. Why can't we reproduce that kind of paradise in Los Angeles?

Even Oscar-nominated actresses had to doff the occasional lacy underthing before they worked their way up to a nudity rider. The moment the nominations were announced, Sister site Fleshbot (with the help of movie boobie-baring archive Mr. Skin) grabbed the value-sized tub of Vaseline and rushed to uncover some nude screen grabs of Annette Bening, Laura Linney, Virginia Madsen, Kate Winslet, and even dowdy Vera Drake abortionist Imelda Staunton. Yes, even the chick from Vera Drake has shown more skin than Natalie Portman (who played a stripper!) in Closer. We still haven't let Portman off the hook for that one.

When we saw these boots at the Palm Pictures party last night at The Riverhorse, we couldn't even muster any righteous anger. It's cold here, there's snow everywhere, and there's an argument to be made that despite its utter ridiculousness, the yeti fur might serve some practical purpose. (Unlike the miniskirt and halter top some chick was rocking—she got so many evil looks from the women in attendance that you'd think she defecated in their free Cosmos.)

· Sundance turns Park City into a corporate-sponsored frat party, with Gersh apparently serving as the Tri-Lams. [Variety]
· The Weinstein Brothers arrive at Sundance and throw money around, trying to prove that Michael Eisner doesn't have their balls bronzed and sitting on his desk. [Variety]
· Brad Pitt to go forward with and star in Plan B produced Jesse James western. Yes, we know. Without Jennifer. Weep, weep. [Variety]
· Scarlett Johansson will host Academy's science and technical awards, following in the group's long tradition of getting hot chicks to distract from a ceremony we suspect is even boring for the nerds. [THR]
· Nickelodeon and Paramount give Robin Williams yet another opportunity to recycle his wacky characters voices in The Krazees. We really hope he does "The Lisping Homo," "The Crazy Hasidic Jew," "The Jive-Talking Black Guy," and "The Deaf Guy" so that the studios really get their money's worth. [THR]

It just occurred to us that the announcement of the Oscar nominations shouldn't be exclusively an opportunity to revel in the pain of the shafted. It's a happy day! Take double-nominee Jamie Foxx (for best leading and supporting actor, but you know that by now). We've got a sneaking suspicion that he's having a grand old time as he watches his salary quote grow by the minute. He's probably buried so deep in a pile of celebratory hookers that he's going to have to start digging his way out tomorrow to make it to the awards ceremony on time.