· This just in! A tensely worded rehashing of Variety's SAG strike doomsaying piece from Monday! Twelve days into things, progress looks "negligible." Need we remind the Powers That Be of that full-page trade ad taken out by George, Tom, Meryl and Bob back in February? For the love of God, Alan Rosenberg! Just. Talk. [Variety]
· The Young & the Restless and Sesame Street lead the Daytime Emmy nominations, though the two long-running series will only face off in one category: Outstanding Performance By An Actor or Math-Obsessed Vampire. [THR]

Say you have a sincere interest in catching the latest The Dark Knight trailer—but not one so burning that it would require you to dash around Hollywood Blvd. counting the number of holes in aggro Chinese Theater Batman's costume, only to then learn via text message that the massive fire at Basque nightclub was in fact "The Joker's doing," before eventually corralling you and 500 other movie blog interns right back to where you started, so that you can file into a Mann's theater for the two-and-a-half-minute, viral experience of a lifetime.

Thank God that the threat of an Anthony Pellicano mistrial came and went without fruition; not only would we have faced the indignity of another star parade of scowling, snail-trailing movers and shakers filing to the witness stand, but we would have missed out on the performance art of Pellicano's closing argument, relayed second-hand today by tireless Huffington Post correspondent Allison Hope Weiner:

What would the world's oldest profession do without Charlie Sheen? Hollywood's most famed lover of pay-for-play has been outed by his current madam in the newest issue of Rolling Stone, who claims that his prostitution habit is still going stronger than ever — even after court-ordered rehab. As "Nici" tells celebrity exposé specialist Vanessa Grigoriadis in the story, she "dropped four girls off at his penthouse, [and] found the actor in silk pajamas with 'C. MaSheen' embroidered over the pocket. Sheen gave her a $20,000 check for the girls, and she picked them up several hours later." And while the fact that Sheen is (allegedly) still romping around with escorts after all these years is pretty pathetic, even more so is his publicist's excuse:

Frankly, we don't know what might have come between Oprah Winfrey and Rachael Ray, the easy-meal guru and multimedia mogul whose career she helped to launch. But there it is, plain as day, on the cover of the new issue of trusted celebrity news source National Enquirer: "YOU MAKE ME SICK!" Four little words that will change...everything. Obviously, there was no guaranteeing that all Harpo hatchlings would remain as loyal to their mentor as, say, a Nate Berkus, available round-the-clock to board an O-emblazoned helicopter whisking him off to solve 4 a.m. window-treatment crises in Santa Barbara. Even Dr. Phil, that unspeakably bald evil that Winfrey almost certainly wishes she could undo, maintains a level of civility with his Maker. But not that pistol Ray—her feisty Sicilian and Cajun ancestries rendering her even more ornery than a cankle-afflicted Kirstie Alley.

Today, People has revealed that Kate Hudson will appear as the cover girl for their 2008 Most Beautiful People issue, and we'd certainly like to send out a hearty congrats to the recently divorced single mom who's currently nursing Owen Wilson back to health. But after taking a look back at the list of stars who've previously nabbed the annual issue's cover spot, we fear there may be a curse accompanying the glossy honor. Sure, Leonardo DiCaprio (1998) and Julia Roberts (2000, 2005) haven't slipped up since having their smiley visage top the list, but a sizeable chunk of the winning alumni eerily saw their public and private lives undergo a downward spiral following their appearance on the issue's cover. We took a closer look at the possible curse-laden honor after the jump:

A TSA agent drunk on power attempted to place Saturday Night Live performer Andy Samberg into his own private rendition. The security agent mentioned that he wrote a spec script that Samberg would be perfect for and that he also wanted to get Samberg's feedback on some characters he's been developing in his improv classes. Samberg looked around the janitorial closet and said that is pretty illegal, but might make for a "totally sweet" digital short.

Time Magazine's 100 most influential people of 2008 have been chosen, and as if on cue, Miley Cyrus gets the wide-eyes-and-wonder treatment from none other than Donny Osmond. But this isn't just another convenient thematic tie-in of wholesome media figures — no! Written before the whole Vanity Fair photo flap, Osmond's blurb is easily the most uncannily prescient piece of writing since Paddy Chayefsky sat down to pen Network:

Defamer has learned that the Weinstein Company operative who months ago positioned Vicky Cristina Barcelona's three-way Scarlett Johansson/Penélope Cruz/Javier Bardem sex scene as "an extremely erotic" screen tryst that will "leave the audience gasping" was not likely the same representative who hooked director Woody Allen up this week with Entertainment Weekly. In a blurb featured in EW's new summer movie preview, the filmmaker dashed a million hormonal panics by tiredly setting the record straight:

The building houses Basque Nightclub and Restaurant, but it was not open at the time and no one is said to have been inside. Towering 40-foot flames shot through the roof of Basque Nightclub and smoke could be seen and smelled for miles.

Matthew Broderick seemed to be disappointed by the poster for his new film, Finding Amanda, at the Tribeca Film Festival. At first, Broderick asked if he had to pose in front of it, then start to wonder why his picture was so far in the background and seemingly out of focus. The film's publicist shrugged his shoulders and said, "Legs sell movies these days." Broderick sighed, then brought up the poster for Ferris Bueller's Day Off. "No sexy girls in that poster. Just my good old face and look at it, that thing is a classic. Probably in dorm rooms everywhere. This one, maybe it'll go up in the room of the creepy guy from the video store and that's about it."

It's Wednesday, and the gays are sad. As we stare out the window, pink rain spattering on the glass, and sip our tea with Valium crushed all up in it, we would like you all to know about it. Specifically, suspected (and, um, proven) geigh and American Idol runner-up Clay Aiken would like to sing about furtively masturbating to pictures of Chad Michael Murray while locked in a closet, and some sorta geigh (he dated Lance "On The Line" Bass) named Reichen Lehmkuhl (evidently that's a name) wants to teach us an important lesson. Clay was on QVC recently promoting a new album or haircut or line of products for lonely people. He sang his new song, subtly called "The Real Me," which includes lyrics like "Do I let it show, does anybody know?" (yes, dear) and "Living a charade, always on parade" (charades imply guessing, love). So yeah. That dude is blue. Reichen was apparently dumped by someone who was just into him for his massive, massive fame. He wrote a blog entry on his MySpace account saying things like "Never believe them when they say they're only going to sleep with you, especially when there is a social climbing opportunity in front of them." Oh how terrible. That must be a constant cross to bear for someone who was on Big Brother Amazing Race once. After the jump, find a video of Clay singing the sad gay bastard song, and get the full Reichen blog entry.

American Idol judge Paula Abdul—on whom we rely to pull browbeaten contestants into her addled embrace, showering them with slurred words of encouragement—made a gaffe for the ages on last night's all-Neil Diamond-cover show. In her defense, producers made a radical change to the show's familiar format, holding all the judging until after the final five had performed two songs. This introduced a complicated new element to the karoake-appraising procedure: taking notes. But no sooner had Paula accepted her fate, and begun to get the hang of scribbling things like "David C.: Shining star, authentic, love the pants," on an index card, sniveling Idol homeroom Poindexter Ryan Seacrest changed the rules once again, demanding to know where Randy, Paula, and Simon stood on the performances at the half-way mark.

It took her long enough, but the eldest spawn of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore is finally putting her pedigree to good use. Rumer Willis reminded the world of her burgeoning acting career at last week's premiere of From Within, the horror flick she's starring in, and was spotted posing for her first ad campaign for Wal-Mart's newest surfer fashion brand OP (formerly Ocean Pacific). And while the extensions she wore for the premiere coupled with the bikini body she displayed alongside Pete Wentz for the photo shoot do admittedly evoke memories of a younger version of her iconic mom, are Rumer's recent career choices really going to jumpstart a Demi-like fame trajectory? Or will she soon be on MTV's third season of Rock The Cradle?

With the promise of Jeff Zucker's Old-Time Radio City Upfront Dog-and-Pony Show vanquished months ago by NBC's decision to unveil its 2007-08 schedule a full month ahead of the usual schedule, the news that other networks are downsizing their own upfronts isn't shocking anyone. The WGA strike that thwarted the networks' normal development schedule left most without any pilots to pitch to advertisers in the annual industry orgies, and even Les Moonves doesn't know what he's programming at CBS this fall. Sorry, L.A. staffers! Unpack your bags — you're staying put this year.

The latest oppressive trends in viral marketing received a skeptical close-up this week in The Hollywood Reporter, but for sheer word-of-mouth fanboy horror, look no further than Tuesday's video chronicle of the Dark Knight "scavenger hunt"/wild geek goose chase through Hollywood. MTV sent an intern to do its dirty work, which included — we shit you not — "a FedEx from the Joker himself," counting the number of fountains in the courtyard at the Hollywood & Highland Mall, and a half-dozen more eggheaded stunts that dead ended with Warner Bros. giving the hundreds of spectators three minutes to stampede to the multiplex — just to get a three-day jump on watching a trailer.

Hey, remember where Tom Cruise held his birthday party? Jog your memory with Gawker's EXCLUSIVE VIDEO of the embarrassing 2004 celebration. That's right: on the MV Freewinds, the massive "cruise ship" training center for the highest level members of the Church of Scientology. Bad news for aspiring OT VIIIs: the ship's been sealed and docked in Curacao due to the discovery of "significant amounts of blue asbestos" all over her. Blue asbestos is the insulating material that's been banned in the US for years because of all the lung cancer it causes. And, obviously, the 40-year-old cruise ship has been contaminated with it since day one—putting the lives of nearly all OT VIII Scientologists at risk! According to a CNN I-Report: "An affidavit filed in 2001 by Lawrence Woodcraft, a former Scientologist and trained architect, claims that Woodcraft encountered the fibrous minerals while working on the ship in 1987, and promptly informed Scientology leaders." And they didn't do anything about it for 20 years. So where does a Scientologist go when he dies of mesothelioma?

· We think we have a worthy successor to the Star Wars Holiday Special for the most blasphemous use of the property, like, ever. That said, that Darth Banker's a hard-ass, isn't he? $49,000? But there's five large amounts still left in play—including the million! [Deal or No Deal]
· "Organizers of a major California music festival are offering a $10,000 reward and four festival tickets for life in exchange for ex-Pink Floyd frontman Roger Waters' two-story inflatable pig." [Reuters]
· David Blaine will try to break the 17-minute world record for breath holding on The Oprah Winfrey Show, which is fine and all, but it's no Criss Angel mindfreaking her brains out. [AP]
· Her new six-hour-a-day workout regimen sometimes requires that Britney Spears walk around the gym wearing nothing but a towel. [Daily Mail]
· Paramount takes a heavy swig of the Blu-Ray Kool-Aid (which, oddly enough, tastes like raspberry with a slightly bitter after-taste). [THR]

The Internet is celebrating Monday's first day of shooting on Crank 2: High Voltage the only way it really knows how: by circulating topless shots of co-star Amy Smart on location. Already knowing the plot (Jason Statham jams all over town to keep his artificial ticker above a lethal heart rate) and its general means of execution (public sex between Statham and Smart, for starters), we now have only the remaining mystery of how and exactly why Smart is bumming around the set with gaffer's tape on her nipples. After the jump, we think we may have discovered the root of her modesty.

It's taken us most of the day to make heads and/or tails of this video for "Falling Down," the first single from Scarlett Johansson's album of Tom Waits covers. But as far as unintentional A-list homages to the meandering road-life videos of the '80s go (remember "Kyrie"? No? OK, well, here), we have seen much worse. As intentional A-list homages to meandering, gravel-throated rock legends go, however, Johansson has her work cut out for her. By the time she gets around to her follow up, we're sure she'll have the earnestness bug licked and her ironic prime sprawling before her. Our money is on a full-length tribute to James Brown, but really, anything funkier than Tom Waits would probably do just as well.