Perhaps cognizant of the fact that this is their last season to milk Project Runway for all it's worth, Bravo parent company NBC Universal has been cramming the show with so much obvious corporate synergy that you can practically hear Tim Gunn muttering, "This concerns me." Still, last week's challenge to create an outfit for the Olympics (currently being broadcast on NBC and NBC-owned channels!) was just a drop in the fierce, organza-draped bucket compared to the corporate chutzpah on display during last night's episode. With guest judge Brooke Shields in the house, the designers were challenged to create a look for her character on season two of the barely-renewed NBC drama Lipstick Jungle. Thanks to Molly McAleer, we've assembled a video of all the times the show's title was uttered last night — even when it sounded suspiciously ADR'd in! Who could have known that "Lipstick Jungle" would surpass "licious" and "Holla at your boy!" to become this season's biggest catchphrase? [Bravo]

Seeking a cure for her Olympic fever, Kate Hudson and her young son Ryder took the beaches of Manhattan Beach for a serious game of beach volleyball. The mother/son duo eventually managed to get a pick-up game going with two of the members of the paparazzi, but the matchup quickly proved to be lopsided. She hadn't properly accounted for Ryder's small stature and lack of mental focus — when he wasn't busy wandering off and attempting to swim in the ocean, he consistently hit the ball into the lower portion of the net. However, the Hudsons soldiered on with their game, ultimately losing to the Flynet crew 21 - 3.

Yesterday brought the not-entirely-shocking bombshell that Paula Wagner would abandon her vanity-mini-major Eden—not to mention her decade-and-a-half long producing partnership with Tom Cruise—by resigning from her position as CEO of United Artists, reportedly to strike out on her own. This came after a disastrous 21 months on the job that produced a single stinker release, in what, to our knowledge, is the first studio scandal based entirely upon underspending: The reckless frugality! The gluttonous discretion! How dare she not greenlight a $75 million Will Ferrell-as-loutish-badminton-pro comedy in this depressed economic environment?But, for whatever reasons—and Paula knows what they are—the much ballyhooed $500 million Merrill Lynch credit line went unspent, causing an increasingly nervous MGM chairman/UA remote-overlord Harry Sloan to enact a contingency coup that resulted, directly or indirectly, in a flurry of executive resignations culminating in Wagner's own. The once-moribund UA now returns to the comfortable, ghoststudio stasis in which it stagnates best. But what of the real issue now at hand—and by that we mean What This Means for Tom, and By Extension All of Hollywood, and By Further Extension Every Single One of Us? Cruise's trajectory lately has been, for lack of a better metaphor, not unlike a Tori Spelling dinner party; it started out promising enough—some nice notices for his over-the-top, Scott Rudin-esque (whoever keeps comparing it to Sumner Redstone hasn't seen the movie) turn in Tropic Thunder—but ended with the actor seated squarely on the career crapper, surrounded by yes-men applauding his every movement. You know the beats: The curious case of Edwina A. Salt. The Scientology racketeering lawsuit. The whispers that he personally—personally!—pressed a pillow onto Isaac Hayes's face in his sleep when he found out the singer planned on donating none of his $750 Sunset Junction earnings to the Church. Here's MGM's press release on the split, followed by Wagner's own statement:

Now that Michael Phelps has finally won more gold medals than Geena Davis, we can get down to the real business at hand: the swimmer's showbiz future. Sure, there's bound to be an awkward SNL-hosting stint yet to come, but as the boys at THR note today, most Olympians have to reconcile themselves to appearing in Duracell commercials or baring their midriffs opposite the Village People. Thus, let's focus on more positive matters, like casting the Michael Phelps Movie of the Week:Sure, there are advocates for McSwimmin', but how about John Krasinski, who plenty of fans of The Office might like to see wearing a hydrodynamic speedo for two hours? However, if producers are willing to take a Todd Haynes-inspired flight of fancy, might we also recommend Will Smith? He's got the ears and the toned body, and we have no trouble imagining him as he mows down a fleet of zombie swimmers, accompanied by nothing but his trusty goldfish (and, of course, his loneliness).

The popular lunch spot Joan's On Third appeared to be the scene for a serious heart-to-heart for Gossip Girl star Michelle Trachtenberg and an unidentified friend. Trachtenberg was not only all ears for her friend, but she also picked up the tab. Her friend told her that she's felt a bit out of it ever since they've lost one of the Golden Girls and it just made her think about their own group (also called the Golden Girls). Trachtenberg said that there would be no need to worry about their golden group just yet, seeing as how they're as solid as the mountains at Yosemite. Trachtenberg then thanked her being a friend and, finally, asked if the friend if she would be interested in holding hands as they left the restaurant, noting that she's sure to get a mention in Life & Style if she jumps on the Lesbian Chic bandwagon.

It was the rumor that rocked the 1990s: was Alanis Morissette's angry, fellatio-referencing "You Oughta Know" actually about sweet ol' Uncle Joey from Full House? It was a story that seemed just bizarre enough to be plausible. After all, Joey-essayer Dave Coulier loved ice hockey, and Morissette was Canadian! Now, prompted by the impending Comedy Central roast of Bob Saget, Coulier had a sit-down with the Calgary News where he revealed that yes, every time Alanis scratches her nails down someone else's back, he feels it:

Attribute it to whatever phenomena you want — the potheads stayed away, the groupies weren't interested, RetardGate '08 — but Tropic Thunder opened softer than planned on Wednesday. Ben Stiller's Hollywood satire pulled in around $7.5 million, prompting observers to downgrade their weekend estimates that should nevertheless keep the film in first place above Star Wars: The Clone Wars and The Dark Knight this weekend. The turnout looked that much worse when compared to that of Pineapple Express, which drew more than $12 million last Wednesday — the best midweek, R-rated comedy opening in ages.That didn't discourage the gang at DreamWorks, however, who argued that their $90 million raunchfest has what it takes to measure up eventually: "We will play to a little older audience than Pineapple Express, so we should do better on Saturday and get to about the same box office," a "source" told Nikki Finke, apparently overlooking the lack of a pot subplot or panty-soaking James Franco to buttress Thunder's run. We're a little more skeptical and think this calls for more desperate measures: If ever the 'Works needed to reinstate its gold mine at SImpleJackMovie.com, now is the hour.

Apparently unconcerned with the prospects of inconveniencing his lunching companions at Orso, The Day The Earth Stood Still star Keanu Reeves took a phone call when the waiter was about to take everyone's order. Reeves told his friend on the other line that he was free to talk and talked for a couple of minutes in a fairly calm voice. One of his tablemates rolled their eyes as Reeves carried on his conversation, then whispered to the rest of the table, "I don't really mind him talking. I just wish it was something interesting, you know? So, I could have something to send into a cool blog or TMZ. You know, I want to be the cool person on the internet for a change." At which point one of the other leaned across the table, grabbed their hands and whispered, "One day, you will. Just not today. Now, could you please pass the olive oil?"

· This has got to be some kind of new low: Join in the fun as Tori Spelling's party guests crowd into the bathroom to watch husband Dean McDermott try out the new features on their high-tech wondercrapper. You'll be glad you did! [Tori and Dean] · Fine, Millions of Milkshakes—L.A.'s newest frozen-delight venture—features the Britney, Paris, and Lindsay among its 75 million flavors. But does it feature a Zoila? It had better. [Eater LA] ·After seeing Victoria's act, watching Hungarian weightlifter Janos Baranyai dislocate his elbow should be a piece of cake. (Warning: Graphic.) [Deadspin] · Once we're onto the subject of Olympics injuries, we're getting reports that Michael Phelps has dislocated his penis in the 400-meter Individual Medley. [WOW Report] · Ranchero singer and telenovela star Pablo Montero has been arrested for cocaine use and possession, forever altering the course of future-Dancing with the Stars-participation history. [NY Daily News]

Setting aside the redundant video that uncannily resembles stock news footage shot sometime during the Nixon Adminstration, there's plenty to not get about HuffPo contributor John Farr's recent overview of "smart, classy" actresses' decline in Hollywood. It's not like we can even necessarily argue with his taste for Joan Allen, to whom he ascribes the sense of sophistication, glamour and taste evident in icons like Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Vivian Leigh and Greta Garbo:

We apologize for being a little behind the gun on this clip from Friday's Jimmy Kimmel Live!, but we'd hate for the week to go by without acquainting you with It-Boy Ascendant James Franco, and his lovely stories from the set of Gus Van Sant's Milk. With a rough-sex outline Scotch-taped between the third and fourth pages of the shooting script, Franco quickly realized he was in for the Crisco-assisted ride of a lifetime—but it's this born raconteur's rubber-member reminiscences that really won us over. Enjoy, with someone you love.

After a brief, fruitful detour into Crazytown, pop starlet Britney Spears appeared to be on the mend: first there was the How I Met Your Mother cameo, then a sanity-spurred decline in baiting the paparazzi, then even a self-mocking MTV promo taped with Russell Brand! Things seemed to be going so well that we hardly batted an eye when OK! announced that Spears would be granting them her first interview in two years (after memorably storming out of her last encounter with the magazine). Then we saw the pictures. And the bag of Cheetos.Britney, Britney, Britney. Shouldn't you know by now that you've become so associated with a white-trash, Cheetos-chomping image that the last thing you should do is give the snack food priority placement during your comeback photoshoot? At least Spears evinced a semblance of self-awareness when she vetoed the idea that her children might follow her into the entertainment industry. Says OK!:

In November 2006, MGM handed Tom Cruise the keys to a gleaming, custom-refurbished United Artists, and, with a $500 million credit line for fuel, instructed the giddy superstar to take his longtime producing sweetheart Paula Wagner on the ride of a lifetime. Two years later, the duo managed to journey to one place only—Turkeyvania—with a release slate consisting of Lions For Lambs, and the soon-to-bomb Valkyrie. (Even sooner than expected! It's just been announced that its release date has been moved back two months to December 26th, either shortening its suffering, or lengthening ours, depending on how you look at it.) Yesterday came news of EVP of production Jeff Kleeman's departure after just 11 months, leaving no one at the company but Cruise, Wagner, an assistant fully engrossed in the latest OK!, and a cleaning woman chasing after Nazi-eyepatch-dotted tumbleweeds rolling through the hallways. Variety is now reporting that the trigger-shy Wagner "is in talks with MGM to leave her post," a departure Deadline Hollywood Daily explains was something of an inevitability:

Kendra Wilkinson's unofficial Olive Garden shilldom — which has yielded both a viral blast of OG love from the Playboy Mansion's doorstep and the resulting "Girls of Oiive Garden" pictorial featured on Playboy's Web site — took an even less tasteful turn today when the restaurant chain publicly kept its distance in The Wall Street Journal. Not that we'd emphasize that part of the story over the bigger news that Kendra Fucking Wilkinson has a WSJ etching, of course, but still — we're kind of proud of the "rogue brand ambassador"'s unwelcome spunk on behalf of a joint that deserves so little in the first place:

Take a good look at that Tropic Thunder poster. Go past the glossy, airbrushed photos of the film's many stars, past the lush jungle setting, past the fiery explosions, and you might notice something. See there? Down at the bottom? It says "Screenplay by Ben Stiller & Justin Theroux, and Etan Cohen." Sure, other more "legitimate" media outlets may give all the ink to those first two dudes, but here at Defamer we like to dig a little deeper. Just who is this Etan Cohen fellow and how did he get roped in to working on the biggest comedy of the summer? Stick around after the jump to hear one of Hollywood's newest writing stars dish the dirt about meeting Tom Cruise for the first time, what it feels like to suddenly have people kissing your ass, and why you shouldn't be offended by all that Simple Jack stuff.

Ohhh. Myyyy. GAAAAH! You guys, Yahoo! TV has like totally posted the first photos from the first episode of the new 9021-Oh-My-Gaaaah! There's just one hitch, which is that none of the released publicity stills focus on the three actresses we most want to see: Shannen Doherty, Jennie Garth, and Lucille Bluth from Arrested Development. Still, if you're keen to see teenaged refugees from Degrassi: The Next Generation and Nip/Tuck (like AnnaLynne McCord, pictured above) party it up at LA hotspots like Boulevard 3, make with the clicking. Just don't say we didn't warn you, Tori. [Yahoo! TV]

On the New York set of Life On Mars, veteran character actor Harvey Keitel pondered the good old days of making movies when pennies weren't being pinched on beverages. Keitel fondly remembered being on the set of Taxi Driver and the quality of liquid refreshments. Keitel added, "They had these bottles of Coca-Cola the size of a dachshund. Honest to God, they were THIS BIG [makes gesture with hands] and you would've sworn that they had been flown in from the Artic Circle because they were so cold and refreshing. Nowadays, it's all this baby bottle business."

One of the most glorious things about Molly McAleer's nightly To Do videos is that you can never really put a finger on where each episode might take you. Some nights you end up experiencing a candlelit vigil for Boy George's lost concert tour, other nights you are transported to a world where dancing alongside dirty mattresses somehow ends up making perfect sense. Well, in tonight's installment, Molls manages to free-associate with topics as diverse as douches, Johnny Depp and drug stores — all in the span of two minutes. Enjoy your Wednesday evening To Do's!· Low vs. Diamond at the Troubadour. · Downtown Film Festival (check listings for various locations). · Bus Driver at the Airliner. · Finding Nemo at The Grove. It's free! · The Drones at Three of Clubs. · Library Board of Trustees Meeting at the Burbank Public Library.

Sean "Diddy" Combs is a lover, not a fighter. Sure, he has to call out "bitchasses" from time to time, but who doesn't? No, what the rap impresario would really like to do is curl up on the couch with a nice, Hancock-loving lady and watch some Olympics — and it was the latter interest that prompted the crew at New York's Daily Intel to ask, "Diddy, if there were a new Olympic sport you could excel at, what would it be?"

Sarandon's Trail (Mix) of Terror: Scurrilous pinko firebrand Susan Sarandon was reportedly implicated over the weekend in a sweep by authoriities at the All Points West music and arts festival in Jersey City, N.J. A witness on the scene at Liberty State Park described the Academy Award-winning actress as being on line treacherously laying in wait with husband and accomplice Tim Robbins when — and we quote — "security guards confiscat[ed] trail mix from [her] purse while she waited in the VIP line." Sarandon was said to have then escaped with Robbins into the maw of the crowd, which closed in solidarity behind her as headliner Jack Johnson strummed a mellow plea for her pursuers to let her go. She remains at large, traveling between New York and LA; you are urged to notify police immediately if you see her and/or her trail mix in public. [NYP]