We're pretty sure that this eBay sale isn't going to stand up to a rigorous forensic evaluation, but a eBay auctioneer is offering a lucky Britney Spears fan the chance to own a coveted piece of memorabilia: her Cheetos bag.

Your messages flooded into our inbox mere moments after we opened the flood gates on this week's guessing game. Frankly, we're a bit overwhelmed by the number of responses to the item. Luckily, your collective intelligence honed in on a single name, saving us the expense of hiring an outside accounting firm to properly tabulate reader-supplied data.

The Defamer correspondent on restricted-access areas at seminal alterntaive-rocker reunion shows submits a report on the VIP lounge at last night's Pixies show at the Greek. We sincerely hope that Keanu didn't ask to jam with the band to show off his bass chops; hopefully Becky is enough of a musical outlet to keep him from embarrassing himself in front of Frank Black.

Warner Bros. has pushed the release of Alexander back three weeks to better troll for Oscars. But we hear the studio is terrified to unleash Colin Farrell, the (rumored) generously be-donged Irishman, on the press because of his tendency to show up to every appearance shitfaced. Apparently whiskey fumes visibly rising off of a movie star are not as charming as they used to be, as one studio bigwig supposedly took a recent pass on Farrell after he pounded a handful of beers during a half-hour meeting. It's official: Colin Farrell is our new hero. He can puke in our car anytime, and we'll even pretend to be cool with it.

· Homecomings are always so sweet: Will and Grace creators David Kohan and Max Mutchnick return to the set for the first time since NBC invited them "not to show up" after they filed a lawsuit against the network. The lawsuits are still pending, and we're sure the W&G writing staff is super, extra thrilled to have Mutchnick and Kohan hanging around again. [THR]
· CBS deploys its newest instrument of Jerry Bruckheimer franchise evil, CSI:NY, to win Wednesday night. Somewhere, Les Moonves is cackling maniacally and giving his teeth an extra victory-polish. [THR]
· The FCC votes to levy the maximum penalty against CBS stations for the Janet Jackson incident,
bringing the total up to $550,000. Somewhere, Les Moonves shrugs off the news and gives his teeth an extra polishing just for staying classy. Also, he orders a random MTV staffer killed. [THR]
· Never underestimate the nerd economy: The Star Wars DVDs and video game, released on Tuesday, have already taken in 115 million worldwide. [Variety, sub, req'd.]
· Mark Burnett teams up with Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia to develop a primetime series, presumably after the domestic empire builder/celeb inmate is released from jail. We expect a rote Apprentice knockoff, but maybe they'll at least get creative with the title. How about Mark Burnett Presents: Martha Stewart's I'm Not Going Back In, You'll Never Fucking Take Me Alive!? [THR]

Wherein we invite you, the inquisitive reader, to divine the identity of the weekly blind item from humpy E! gossip cryptographer Ted Casablanca. We're confident that One Busty Blind Vice's lack of hetero-posing actors or wild drug abuse won't keep you from your appointed gossip-guessing rounds:

Media elitist sister-site Gawker gets its dirty hands on some bad meth (again), and a truly strange "rumination" on Cynthia Nixon's sexual identity and mutant sanitation-system alligators results:

Lindsay Lohan must have the smartest publicist in the world. It seems that all of the Lohan-centered chatter of late has surrounded her career-endangering, (ostensibly) underage cocktail-pounding, so the focus has been brought back to a much more PR-friendly subject. With the heat off her rack for months, she "complains" to GQ about the attention paid to her breasts and then spreads cleavage all over the magazine's cover and accompanying photo spread. Classic move, but much less visually arresting than a more topical cover depicting her sucking a tequila shot out of Fez's navel.

—Christina Aguilera allegedly calls Britney Spears' wedding "trashy, pathetic, and low rent." We'd love to write this off as an instance of "great minds think alike," but we're suspicious that she's been reading our Hello Kitty diary again.
—"My sunglasses match the cocaine tray, I'm so L.A." We recommend you watch this entertaining video as while we work to improve our accessorization with drug paraphernalia.
—It's always hilarious when Larry David tries his best to blur the line between his TV-self and his real-self. We don't think he's joking about turning the incident into a Curb episode, either.
—In case you needed another update on Britney Spears' marital status, here you go.

LA.comfidential's insidery-monikered the Insider notes that David Geffen's Gay Mafia stronghold in Beverly Hills was "the place to be last night," as liberal Hollywood joined in pagan celebration of Maureen Dowd's new book, Bushworld: Enter At Your Own Risk. We'll assume that our invitation was dispatched to the same incorrect P.O. box where all of our Playboy Mansion invites are accumulating. Maybe we'll make the list for the next power-lefty soiree if we subtly note that we have nearly unlimited access to Republican babies, guaranteeing that hors d'ouvres trays stay deliciously full throughout any event graced by our presence.

1. The fourth annual Young Directors Night at LACMA features seven short films, including one by the filmmaker daughter of a presidential candidate. We know that you love guessing games, so we won't name her. Hint: Her father actually fought in a war; you can probably cross off a certain pair of drunken twins from your list of guesses right off the top. (Oops, that's her picture on the left! Silly us.)
2. See visiting off-Broadway show Who Killed Woody Allen? make its debut in Los Angeles at The Olympic Improv West. The title is probably a rhetorical question, but didn't he kill himself after Hollywood Ending?
3. More rock shows than you can shake a stick at, as if that would somehow help you make up your mind about which one to go see: Rock Against Bush at the Henry Fonda, The Thrills do an Amoeba in-store, The Pixies play the Greek, and The Natural History hit Spaceland.

Rush & Molloy report in today's NY Daily News that director David O. Russell is hacked off about Sharon Waxman's great article in the Sunday NYT, in which she related Russell's incredibly strange antics during the production of I Heart Huckabees. (Sample antic: Upon hearing that Christopher Nolan cast Jude Law away from Huckabees, Russell put Nolan in a headlock at a party and demanded his return. It's no Three Kings fistfight with Clooney, but hey.) Russell's mad because he claims Waxman said she was doing research for an upcoming book on directors, not a NYT piece; the NYT predictably backs up Waxman's version. If we were Waxman, we wouldn't want to piss off Russell—we hear that the ass-slapping paddy-wagon he inflicts on duplicitous reporters is even more brutal than his vaunted headlock-noogie combo.

We're hearing that Harvey Weinstein isn't through slashing jobs at Miramax after last night's supposed liberation of his film acquisition crew. It might be hugs-and-cardboard-boxes time for even more of Harvey's Kids; the rumor circulating inside the 'Max is that 100 additional layoffs are coming as early as tomorrow. If further cuts are really on the way, Weinstein might want to hold off until Friday. That way he'll have time to prepare his office for the flood of thank-you notes he'll surely receive from newly emancipated employees eager to express gratitude for the gift of their unexpected freedom.

When the Olsen twins' lawyers did some preliminary saber-rattling about their displeasure over the Save Mary-Kate t-shirts bearing a cartoonishly skeletal likeness of half of their meal ticket, they weren't fucking around. Dualstar Entertainment, the twins' corporate empire built on the back of the world's brainwashed tweens, has fired off a cease-and-desist letter to the t-shirt's makers. (The legal love-note is nobly reproduced at The Smoking Gun.) We wish entrepreneurs Randy and Moss the best of luck in their dealings with The Empire, and breathe a sigh of relief that we never put those "She's a Cokehead, Bitch!" lobster bibs into production.

How unlucky is Cybill Shepherd? She had a fantastically bad hair day coincide with a mildly unhinged interview on British TV, which just happened to fall on Dress As Your Favorite Brothers Grimm Fairy Tale Day, and now she's getting bludgeoned in the press. We'll go on the record as saying that even in the light of these unfortunate events, we're not going to rescind the erection she gave us from her nude scene in The Last Picture Show. (In fact, the Little Red Riding Hood act makes it all seem hotter.) Let's put this nastiness behind us, shall we?

· Walt Disney Co. President and COO Bob Iger can sleep easier knowing that he's at the only internal candidate to replace CEO Michael Eisner. But he shouldn't sleep too soundly, as Eisner is consulting with voodoo priestesses on a hex that will cause Iger and Eisner to swap bodies the moment a succession occurs. [THR]
· CBS reaches a pilot deal for the Jerry Bruckheimer drama American Crime, examining the criminal impulse in a Midwestern suburb. Maybe we're being unfair because this one doesn't sound like it's part of the franchise, but whatever: We're dismissively branding this one CSI: Winnetka. [Variety, sub. req'd.]
· Emilio Estevez is cast as the lead in new Warner Bros. sitcom project for ABC, Long Island Sound. Ah, this really takes us back to the good old days, when Estevez and his Anglicized brother Charlie were running roughshod over Hollywood. Our fingers are tightly crossed that this familial resurgence will result in a long-awaited Men at Work sequel. [THR]
· Warner Bros. wants to be in the "Eric Bana as a high-stakes poker player business," handing him the lead in the Curtis Hanson film Lucky You. [THR]
· Miramax will finance and distribute Michael Moore's new health-care industry documentary Sicko. Let's see if Moore turns the camera on Harvey Weinstein and makes sure he's fulfilling his COBRA responsibilities to all those people he just laid off. [Variety, sub. req'd]

We're not going to bore you with "analysis" of the results of the just-concluded WGA elections, where president Dan Petrie Jr. trounced challenger Eric Hughes by a 71% to 26% margin (if you're keeping score), or what this means for the WGA's sitting-on-its-hands-until-the-DGA-wins-the-battle-for-us "negotiations" with the networks and studios. We even asked a Guild member who was handy what he thought of the results, and he said, "I have no fucking idea what it all means. I didn't vote." His chilling ambivalence says it better than we ever could, because we'll probably never be eligible for the WGA's legendary, kick-ass health plan. We'll congratulate Mr. Petrie Jr. and continue with our day.

It looks like Harvey "Scissorhands" Weinstein wasn't completely done slashing jobs at Miramax after last month's smaller-than-expected round of 65 layoffs. Now we hear that Weinstein axed Miramax's entire film acquisitions staff last night—as a spy puts it, "just so he has something else to atone for on Yom Kippur." Yeah, this should probably make his atonement list, but it could have been worse: We're fairly certain he didn't push the entire department out of an open window before they could clear out their offices.

Russ Meyer, the auteur behind such cult jiggle flicks as Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill! and Vixen, died on Saturday from complications of pneumonia. This is a sad day indeed. We're left to wonder what Meyer could have done with today's up-and-coming talent; Lindsay Lohan, for example, would have been a perfect for Really Mean Girls On Dope Go Nuts!

Drudge's please-let-it-not-be-true headline screams about what is possibly America's biggest fraud since the simulated moon landing: MEDIA TRICKED [AGAIN!]: BRIT FAKED WEDDING. They explain,
"US WEEKLY uncovered 'documents' that show Britney Spears' nuptials to be a 'faux wedding.' PEOPLE mag wasted 7 figures for 'exclusive photos'... done to throw everyone off the case... Developing..."