Before we tear our hair out staring at this horrifying tableaux submitted by an alert, camera-wielding reader, we're moved to pity the skittish accessory-dog fleeing in horror from the two fluffy monsters chasing it up Melrose. And despite our vocal distaste for all things nonsensically furry, we're not exactly an expert in boot taxonomy, we'll just brand these abominations mukluks, climb under our desk to marinate in the urine of existential fear, and be done with it. And if the boots/purse-dog combo isn't enough to piss on the front lawn of your sensibilities, it gets worse. Click on "more" to see exactly how much worse.

Who needs Cops when we have Lindsay Lohan's family? Today's Page Six is overflowing with the wacky antics of Lindsay's dad Michael and mom Dina. Michael's agreed to more rehab but still insists he doesn't have a drinking problem, Michael calls Lindsay's friends "lowlifes" and "parasites," Dina drinks her lunch, and Michael claims Dina's assistant Ann nearly ran him over and—wait, it gets better—threatened to kick his ass. And best of all, Michael takes a poke at the Lohan/Spears Head Liar In Charge:

Providing further evidence we're marching inexorably toward a global economy based in the buying and selling of items once touched by Britney Spears, the banned eBay auction featuring Spears' wedding night boy shorts is back, and it's now a value-added sale that includes a matching bra! The wily entrepreneur has circumvented eBay's "used underwear" prohibition by claiming the items are a "brand new set," but we all know that if they're authentic, they're too used to foist off on even the Salvation Army. There's really no good way to get out those Cheeto smears.

Can't bite-sized NBC generalissimo make up his mind? This morning, we saw Jay Mohr's note about Last Comic Standing's cancellation with one episode left in the can. Now we've heard a rumor that LCS has just gotten a death row reprieve and has been un-canceled, though we don't know if it's supposed to play in its scheduled timeslot or another time. Ugh, our heads are spinning. Tomorrow, we expect that loose-cannon Zucker will decree that Joey be made a transsexual who adopts a talking rabbit.

1. Watch Round Two of Bill O'Reilly Vs. Jon Stewart and His Audience of Dope-Smoking Burnouts as Fox's favorite blowhard visits The Daily Show. Doesn't really sound like much of a contest, does it?
2. A grown up Hanson perform at the House of Blues. Try not to lose your shit when you realize how old they look, or when you notice that the little girl that played the drums is now a teenage boy. Also, The Dwarves are at the Troubadour, and Supergrass hit Avalon.
3. Leave the office right now and be the first at Silverlake Wine's Thursday Night Flights when it start at 5pm, because it's never too early to get started on your Friday hangover.

Another week, another downpour of responses to this week's twin Awful Truth blind items. You truly relish the opportunity to shamelessly point the Gay Finger at Hollywood's hottest, sexually-conflicted young studs. Once more, with feeling, One Boyishly Bad Blind Vice:

From Variety's VPage coverage of Tuesday night's Groundlings 30th Anniversary Gala at the Henry Fonda Theater: Groundlings/SNL alum Jon Lovitz improvises no fewer than three chins for an obviously impressed Mindy "Frau Farbissina" Sterling and Krista "Had Sex With Clooney" Allen.
[Photo: Variety VPage, WireImage.com]

As you've exited your preferred house of worship, have you ever thought that you'd like God to finally send the Big One to Los Angeles and dump the human crumbs that we call celebrities off the world's dinner plate? Well, that's not very charitable of you. Perhaps if you picked up a copy of a What Hollywood Believes, Mr. Bible-Thumper, you wouldn't consider Tinseltown so spiritually corrupt.

Popbytes, the website that ignited discussion about former Home Alone munchkin Macaulay Culkin's preferences in a partner's genitalia, posts an update on the rumors. We still haven't been able to completely understand the bizarre, supposed love-pentagram involving Culkin, Simon Rex, Nick Carter, Paris Hilton, and sub-celebrity Jeffrey Brunner; quite frankly, it gave us a headache so severe we'd go to the hospital if we had health insurance. Yesterday, the Hilton connection prompted us to recommend that Culkin lop off his penis in an act of self-preservation. With today's batch of rumors, we further suggest he poke out his eyes.

It's a brave, new world at the leaner-and-meaner Miramax. After Harvey Weinstein tossed scads of nonessential employees (you know, like the film acquisitions people) out of empty windows over the past handful of months, the Miramax Left Behind have had the last shreds of their morale sapped by a barrage of memoranda detailing the company's cost-cutting policies. After suffering memos about Miramax's revised vacation directives (different for NY and LA offices, natch), an LA staffer finally snapped. The following "memo" on snack policies is now happily circulating through the Max's tumbleweed-strewn offices. Apparently, even Disney's decimated subsidiary can lay a claim to the title of "the happiest place on earth."

Wherein we invite our readers to hack away at the tropical prose-thicket of humpy E! gossiper Ted Casablanca's weekly assault on the English language and guess the identity of his blind item. This week, Ted doesn't disappoint, serving up yet another TWO sordid tales of supposedly straight actors clandestinely liberating themselves from the tyranny of the vagina. Casablanca even candidly admits, "I get a lot of mail from readers wondering if I think there are any heterosexuals in Hollywood. Not many!" Amen, and enjoy One Boyishly Bad Blind Vice.

Jay Mohr reports on his website that he woke up yesterday morning to find that Last Comic Standing has been canceled...with only the final episode left to air. Say what?

· Universal decides that production of Denzel Washington/Benicio Del Toro-starring American Gangster would get too expensive after the studio canned director Antoine Fuqua, and calls it quits on the whole project. Something smell a little fishy here? Studios love nothing more than throwing money at a problem. [Variety, sub. req'd.]
· Jessica Simpson husband/prop Nick Lachey signs a development deal with 20th Century Fox TV and Brad Grey TV to star in either a half-hour or hour-long show. It's so cute when trophy spouses try and get a career in case they get divorced! [THR]

The Producers Guild's is up in arms about the studios and networks' devaluing of its amorphous craft, even threatening to sick lawyers on the Hollywood establishment if it persists in handing out "unearned" credits. Of course, the first step in any such campaign is raising awareness through education, i.e., what the fuck does a producer do? According to the LAT, "The guild maintains that a producer initiates, coordinates, supervises and controls all aspects of a motion picture from inception to completion." Oh, it's so much clearer now!

How do you know when an entertainment publicist is lying? She's returning your call. Today's Rush & Molloy column solicits Britney Spears' rep, Leslie Sloane, for the official word on the "wedding night panties" now no longer available at auction on eBay [UPDATE: Fleshbot helpfully preserved a screenshot of the acution for posterity.]

—Now that Leno's announced he's stepping down in five years, Letterman applies the long-awaited bitchslaps. Jeez, still a little bitter about never getting the Tonight Show, Dave?
—Natalie Portman stumps for Kerry in Milwaukee, No, we're not going to say anything snarky about her.
—Actress Sienna Guillory holds forth on Kate Beckinsale's chest: "Now I've heard she's got a clause in her contract saying that she can't be filmed bending over at more than a 45-degree angle because her boob implants slide up onto her collar bone." Naturally, Beckinsale's publicist denies the implants. Possible translation: a) Beckinsale has huge implants, or b) the contract actually stipulates a 35-degree angle.
—We're officially serving notice that anyone trick-or-treating in a Santa Claus costume may get punched in the mouth. And not in a sexual way. [via LA.comfidential]

1. Pray that professional Insomniac drunk-harasser Dave Attell stays away from your table so you don't have to stumble through your slurred comebacks, as he joins "comedy band" That's My Daughter at the Improv's Late Night Lounge.
2. Try and forget that Billy Crudup ditched Mary-Louise Parker for co-star Claire Danes as you take in a sneak preview screening of Stage Beauty at the Egyptian. We're forgetting right now. It's easy to be distracted once you see what an admittedly ugly woman he makes.
3. Indulge your Anglophilie and groupie tendencies all at once, as Jamie Cullum, self-taught British pianist/singer/songwriter performs at the House Blues.
4. Glue yourself to the couch and resist any attempt at being moved until the baseball playoffs are over. The two most popular teams with locals, the Angels and Yankees, are both in action. Just kidding, Angels fans! Everyone knows the Dodgers are more popular in years they make the playoffs.

The MPAA is again out to browbeat its paying customers, and its market research (or the sounds of pirate noises in a theater) apparently has revealed that the "puppet stuntman" is not as "relateable" a propaganda delivery character as a teenage girl. LAist's Paul Davidson stares into the face of the new Manny Perry and sees a gum-smacking, broadband-equipped Hilary Duff fan.

A-list entertainment lawyer Barry Hirsch, whose midnight defection to a new firm in August made news in Variety and the LAT (and got the business in Nikki Finke's L.A. Weekly column, where she said feeling bad for Hirsch was like "taking up a collection for the West Nile Mosquito Defamation League"), borrows the sympathetic ear of the NYT. Hirsch poo-poos the idea that's he's worked some kind of mind-control mojo on the tamper-prooof brains of clients such as J. Lo and Julia Roberts:

We only now realize that the hubris of even entertaining the thought of a "Britney-free day" gives the Baby Jesus a wicked case of colic, causing His cries to drown us in Spears-related nonsense. How could we have been so naive? Now we're compelled to present the latest (and perhaps the most promising) item in the Britney Economy, a pair of lace boyshorts supposedly worn by Spears on her fake wedding night. The cred-seeking vendor also offers to include a staff pass from the event as proof that the item has actually touched Spears' dainty bottom. By all means, bid now, before a pair of crotchless panties (encrusted with rhinestone studs spelling out "Property of K. Federline'") are put on sale following her real wedding in Santa Barbara on October 16th.