Take these amazing predictions to your bank or credit union, where they are treated as legal tender.

· AMPAS says no more negativity in Oscar campaigns. Related: Harvey Weinstein fires ad team commissioned for series of full-page "Spider-Man Fucks Babies" spots in the trades. [THR]
· Pink slips on the set of CSI. Supporting actors George Eads and Jorja Fox are the sacrificial lambs in a salary debate, serving as an example to other castmembers that hey, this show is about visual effects and death, you can be replaced. This is not a joke: We heard that Eads wasn't "making a statement," he just overslept his morning call. Time for an alarm clock, Georgie! [THR]
· Business mogul/doily-pushing ice-queen Martha Stewart gets 5 months in prison, but Gawker gets the tea towel. (Actually, we got one too! Thanks, Smoking Gun!) [THR]
· First Paramount, now this. Val Kilmer has been brought on to play Moses in the upcoming musical The Ten Commandments. Show opens in Hollywood first, where Kilmer can uses his Method-derived Moses powers to part the urinating homeless on his way to work. [Variety, sub.req'd]
· Four young agents at UTA sent packing. Sure, we knew last night, but we have priorities. [THR]

We hear that there was a "minor bloodletting" at talent agency UTA late yesterday. Among the desk-in-a-cardboard-box set were agents Alex Kerr, Josh Pollack, Erik Hyman, Gregg Clark and April Lim. No, we don't know who they are either, but according to the folks at Whore Presents, they represent such Hollywood bright lights as Billy Kay,Vicki Iovine, and Ethan Browne. (Whore Presents does say Hyman repped deceased superstar photographer Herb Ritts, who isn't exactly keeping him busy these days). We wish all of the downsized luck in their respective job searches. But if you see anyone panhandling on Wilshire Boulevard in a nice suit and hair full of product, don't look them in the eye. They'll ask for ten percent of your sandwich.

It's so nice that Britney's finally trying to reverse this recent binge of white-trashy behavior and give her image a much-needed buff-up. After all, what's classier than cupping your fiancé's "tiny dancer" on a balcony, high above the paparazzi cameras? We just hope she springs for the laundry bill—someone's going to have to get those Cheeto stains off his shorts.

Film producer/manager Arnold Steifel flipped through his cellphone recently and discovered it was full of names he hadn't entered himself: Tom Cruise. Harrison Ford. Benicio Del Toro. Julia Ormond, Peter Bogdanovich, Lena Olin, Michael Caine, Bob Zemeckis, Robert Towne, Anthony Edwards, Arnie Morgan, Cameron Crowe, Michael Ovitz .It was almost as if God had planted his own contacts list in the phone, if God didn't hate celebrities.

There's not a lot for us to say about this reader sighting of former Liza Minnelli gimp David Gest, except that it's never right to blame the victim of (alleged) domestic abuse—even if he appears to have incompetently-installed hair plugs. Of course, there's the mitigating factor that after this encounter, the reader is now a victim of sorts; his nightmares, starring Gest as a gay, fashion-impaired vampire, will be punishment enough:

A spy on the Fox lot sends us this breaking report, where rapper/actor/comedy writer beat-down specialist Method Man is causing some more headaches for his Method & Red co-workers. (For those of you with short-term memory problems, Method Man recently threw down with one of the show's writers.)

—Hollywood test case for requiring licenses to reproduce?
—We're looking forward to when Courtney Love is transformed into a live-action character. That will be some crazy shit.
—Star mag applies the gossip-standards bitchslap to NY Post for the Britney booze story. But come on, chasing your ginseng shot with a Red Bull is like cleansing your nasal cavity for coke with crystal meth.
—Mira Sorvino is probably knocked up, but didn't we tell you that already?
—Line of the day, re: secret Black iPods: "I think the original iPods were black, and then were later changed to white, just like they did to Jesus."

It only took shooing Shaquille O'Neal out of town with a red-hot poker and a $136 million, seven-year contract, but Kobe Bryant is staying with the Lakers. Area police can now rest a little easier; for the time being they won't be calling on the information in their recently-issued crisis pamphlet, What To Do If You Should Come Upon Jack Nicholson's Three-Day Old Corpse Swinging From a Chandelier in a Beverly Hills Mansion.

Welcome to the first-ever Defamer Blind Item. Degree of difficulty: 10 out of 10. Enjoy, but if smoke starts to billow out of your ears or you think you taste pennies while you tease out its secrets, please lie down for a few minutes before resuming your daily activities.

BoingBoing points us to this Joi Ito phonecam shot of Disney CEO/Mickey Mouse activewear mannequin Michael Eisner at the Fortune magazine Brainstorm 2004 conference. Ito blogs that Eisner admits to liking Fahrenheit 9/11, despite blocking its release by Disney. We're more interested in what he's doing (with what looks like a cellphone) instead of paying attention. Defamer's digital descramblers intercepted his chat session:

In her (sort-of-but-not-really) TV blog, Slate critic Dana Stevens writes on the burgeoning love affair between Jeopardy! host Alex Trebek and all-time super-champion/Mormon quiz-show idol Ken Jennings. A couple of more victories and someone's going to have to turn a hose on the two of them:

Blog Night In The Big City fires a couple of shots into the LA vs. NY culture wars. Sure, you can hear New Yorkers wheedle about LA's deficiencies any time one of them wanders within ten feet of a West Coast slice of pizza or a bagel. But we're still amused by the phrase "Leathery George Hamilton," which while striking us as a redundancy, is a fucking fantastic name for a line of cologne.

· Fox, apparently tiring of knocking down and stealing the lunch money of wee NBC-Universal head Jeff Zucker, turns its attention to pilfering British ideas. At least this time they're paying for Hell's Kitchen. Think The Restaurant with inedible food, bad teeth, and a third British stereotype of your own choosing. We recommend you go with "cops with no guns," that always cracks us up. [Variety, sub., req'd]

E! updates on Mary-Kate Olsen's progress at her rehab stay at the Cirque Lodge. Mary-Kate's going to need a couple of more weeks to get this "eating disorder" problem licked—her rep still adorably insists it's NOT DRUGS—and is extending her stint to six weeks from the originally planned month. The flack also says that she's still on the fast-track to recovery, as anorexia typically requires 90 days of treatment, but we think that M-K is just lacking focus. Let's get her a wheelbarrow full of Ritalin and get this thing licked in five weeks!

This pic at Liquid Generation claims that Lindsay Lohan tumbled to the floor of a night club because she's a "drunken wreck." She just turned 18, not 21, so we can't endorse that interpretation of events. We'll just go with an alternate explanation that keeps Lindsay legal and far away from Mary-Kate territory: She's not yet comfortable with her sudden blossoming and is still learning how to navigate in stilettos with a radically shifted center of gravity.

The Baldwinization Centers of America offer a surgical procedure "which results in the patient's perfect resemblance of the Baldwin brother of their choice" A great idea, if part of their R&D process included the development of a time machine to return their altered clients to the height of the Baldwin clan's power, circa 1993. Who would shell out for a series of invasive surgeries to look like Alec Baldwin's current, doughy character-actor incarnation? Even if you went for the Hunt for Red October Alec, you'd still eventually have to suffer through the pain of unrealized box office potential. And let's be realistic: A recipient of the Stephen procedure couldn't get to the front of the line at the Trader Joe's on La Brea.

Wherein we entreat you, the gossip-devouring reader, to divine the identity of this week's blind item subject in humpy, barely-coherent E! dirt-slinger Ted Casablanca's column. Today, One Sour-Balling Blind Vice:

Here's how we try to sex up the (sadistically) early morning announcement of this year's Emmy nominations: Mobsters and AIDS rampage through Academy of Television Arts and Sciences! You know what? We're still a little bored, even though Angels in America and The Sopranos scored a staggering 21 and 20 nominations, respectively. HBO, perhaps the only network that cares about the quality of its shows, unsurprisingly crushed all comers with 124 total nominations.

—A nasty diet drink, Whoopi Goldberg, "a stream of vulgar sexual wordplays on Bush's name in a riff about female genitalia," and the loss of a sponsorship. All of the elements for comedy are here, but we just can't make ourselves care.
—Go to Disneyland and you die. It's really that simple. [via blogging.la]
—Did we mention that Hasselhoff likes Players Extreme Vodka? How's the rehab going, Dave?
—In an unexpected moment of prescience, we wrote this about the Olsen Twins: "Also, we're not quite sure which one of the set is going to be the Corey Feldman and which the Corey Haim, but the process of figuring it out is sure to be magnificent." Y'all better start listening to us; the twins you save may be your own.