Katherine Heigl once again had to remind every one of the set of her new film, The Ugly Truth, the rules regarding her Ugg boots. Heigl had it written into her contract that she's allowed to wear her Uggs in scenes where her feet aren't visible, and even added a clause that gives her the authority to fire any crew members who snicker, giggle or engage in any other form of laugh-based communication either to her face or behind her back. Heigl told the crew that if they can't adhere to these rules then they could try to get somebody else who'll open the #1. That reminder sure shut them all up.

Speaking to an Us Magazine reporter on Saturday, comedienne Kathy Griffin declared that she and billionaire Apple cofounder Steve Wozniak have moved to Splitsville, population: Them.

"What Would NPH Do?" If we have asked ourselves that question once while staring deeply into the eyes of Neil Patrick Harris straddling a unicorn, we have asked it a thousand times. But now, the Shoe Fairy himself has agreed to provide his fans with the answer to that timeless question. Only problem is, he's not quite sure. "I can't decide between crack cocaine and Paris Hilton," he tells Time Out New York. Which is very winky and cute, but Neil shares more than second-rate stand-up bits in this piece. More on his very detailed description of "cans" (that's "boobies" in NPH-speak) and how he feels about jump-starting his comeback by snorting drugs off a strippers ass, after the jump:

We've survived our share of bad movies at film festivals, but nothing quite scrapes the all-time low of Towelhead, the directorial debut of American Beauty/Six Feet Under creator Alan Ball. Upon our viewing of the film (then titled Nothing is Private) at last year's Toronto Film Festival, our disdain for Ball's facile mishmash of pedophilia, racism and "edgy" suburban angst provoked us to level a bounty on the filmmaker's pin head — a bounty we'd like to double after viewing the new trailer. Laugh! at the lukewarm tampon gags. Gasp! at Aaron Eckhart's predatory one-liners. Cry! at Toni Collette's decreasing selectivity. This is but a fleck of the steaming horseshit we expect will bury Warner Independent Pictures in its post-New Line fight for life with corporate cousin Picturehouse, but we still think it merits your suggestions for creative, affordable means of cosmic revenge we might exact in the months ahead.

Sadly, it's time to resign yourself to the fact that you are no longer in the "coolest place on Earth" (i.e. the desert, watching Prince cover Radiohead), and have returned to one of the lesser-cool places on Earth: your office cubicle. We won't even sugarcoat this: Here's the weekend grosses, straight up.

More apocalyptic Hollywood strike talk is surfacing this morning, with Variety noting that little progress has been made in the ongoing contract negotiations between SAG and the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers. Shocking! But with one week remaining on their clock before the compliant gang at AFTRA gets their turn to bend over the conference room table for a little rough, residual-based intimacy, time is of the essence for an aggressive union leadership that wants to at least pretend it maintains the upper hand:

[Photo Credit: Bauer-Griffin]

When news that Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer got together for a "touchy, feely" lunch date and dinner in Miami over the weekend broke, the entire community of celebrity observers and glossy magazine readers let out a big ol' collective yawn. Aniston has been linked to (and we're roughly estimating here) seven hundred or so possible paramours since her split with Brad Pitt, and Mayer has pulled what Liz Phair would call the all-too-common "fuck and run" on so many starlets that he earned Us's "Cad of the Year" award. But just because the gossip is yawnworthy doesn't mean there isn't a larger issue here: mainly, is Aniston really dating or trying to date all these guys-of-the-month, or is this charade her publicist's idea of spinning her post-divorce life into an unglamorous version of Sex And The City?

Our dissatisfaction at Friday's news that Guillermo del Toro would inherit the Hobbit reins from Peter Jackson met with a mix of scorn and curiosity over the weekend. "Pony up an alternative, Cochise," wrote a commenter. "Destroy those two GENIUSES and all we will be left with is Lucas and Spielberg. And that is not a world I wish to live in." Us neither! That said, if the Laws of Hollywood Franchises dictate that this goddamned movie must exist, we can think of at least five talented directors off the tops of our heads whom we'd prefer over del Toro, Jackson or any of the other usual fanboy fantasy suspects. Tell us your own ideal hires after the jump.

There's a technique called "grooming" that pedophiles use on their victims (yes, we just learned about it today, thank you). One definition says "Grooming behavior is intended to make the victim or potential victim or victim's guardians feel comfortable with the molester and even interested in interacting with him." And here's a characteristic of a regressed child molester: "They place pseudo-adult status on their victims and then view them as they would their peers." Now take a look at the following behind-the-scenes pictures from Vanity Fair's controversial new Miley Cyrus photo shoot by 58-year-old lesbian photographer Annie Leibovitz and ask yourself if any of that rings a bell. We're not accusing these stylists of being pedophiles, we're just saying... ugh:

· Despite the best efforts of Woody Harrelson, Wesley Snipes gets three years for tax evasion.
· The birth of Viacom's new premium cable channel riles future galactic despot Les Moonves.
· Let's hope this is just a bump in Lindsay Lohan's Road to Wellville.
· Whither our superheroines?
· All is again Kosher between Tom & Vicky & Dave & Katie.
· The Segelbot successfully executes Talk Show Anecdote Program Embarrassing Naked Breakup Story. Behold, the Segelshlong.
· Baby Mama: The reproductive torture-porn cut.
· Star Jones fails to make love work.
· Semi-Pro bear gets fully-pissed, mauls his trainer to death.
· Does the Valkyrie release-date shell-game spell bad news for the Cruise/Wagner UA?
· The Uwe Boll Movie Challenge invites to make your own, damn hacky movie, while Boll issues a challenge to sworn nemesis Michael Bay: 12 rounds in the ring, winner takes all. (Winner being us.)
· Jimmy Fallon finds the perfect platform for a comedian who loves laughing at his own jokes.
· The Hobbit blows cum-bubbles!

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are posted several times a week (depending on volume), so send them in early and often—without them, we'll surely be forced to endure another Pellicano trial! Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line so we don't lose them) and tell everyone about the time you heard David Spade drop a bevy of F-bombs in front of toddlers at Koi.

· 30 Rock's GE CEO Don Geiss sure knows how to stack a board, doesn't he? Wave a little bacon over their noses, they're putty in your hands. [30 Rock]
· This is it! One more night before your appointment with the Demonshlonged One in the desert. We thought we'd put together a little Coachella Survival Kit for you. First, LA.com offers a pretty handy cheat sheet, packing list included. Next, your forecast (hot as a Satan's taint). And finally, a Trip Advisory, of sorts, offering reviews of every strain of ecstasy pill currently found in Southern California. You wouldn't want your Coachella experience to turn into a twin-demonshlong-headed nightmare! [LA.com, Weather.com, Pillreports.com]
· The new The Dark Knight one sheet is cool and all, but we would have gone in a different direction with it. There! That's better! [firstshowing.net]
· We almost completely forgot—it's Daddy Fridays at the Faultline tonight! Thanks, John Travolta at Michael Eisner's Walk of Fame ceremony! [DListed]
· Prince Caspian is a Cylon. [Photoshop Disaster]

Forgetting Sarah Marshall star Jonah Hill's initial baby steps into a regular work out routine were thwarted by a nosy photographer. Hill politely asked if the photographer could leave him alone, seeing as how Hill had successfully finished his first block. Unfortunately for all parties involved, the photographer said no and offered Hill the halfway melted Snickers bar in his SUV. Hill continued on his walk, but the ever-persistent photog asked if Hill wanted to make a run to Crumbs in Beverly Hills, adding in that it would be his treat. Hill sighed and continued on with his power walk, then muttered, "Any other day, I'd be there. But you know, I'm working hard not to be the Artie Lange of the Apatow gang."

Hot on the heels of their gripping exposé of what it's like inside an American Idol taping (apparently that studio is much smaller in person, and there's a man wandering the aisles prompting the audience to applaud!) the NY Times continues their series Things On the West Coast That Don't Begin To Exist Until We Acknowledge Them Years After the Fact with a look at The Grove. What to make of the dancing-waterist, most trolleytastic consumption experience west of the Rockies? Best to submit yourself willingly to this seductive simulacrum of Main Street, U.S.A., filled with all the ma n' pa Apple Stores and charming cellphone accessory carts of your youth:

There's been much to-do over the last day about Peter Jackson's hiring of Guillermo del Toro to direct the two-part Lord of the Rings prequel The Hobbit. Among our favorite dissenting opinions belongs to Salon critic Andrew O'Hehir, who pulls out his Cannes '06 interview notebook to look up del Toro's sentiment at the time: "I was never into heroic fantasy. At all. I don't like little guys and dragons, hairy feet, hobbits — I've never been into that at all. I don't like sword and sorcery, I hate all that stuff." Our sister blog Gawker doesn't like del Toro's selection either, but we're optimistic this is a perfect match for everyone because The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien and Guillermo del Toro all fucking suck. Does it really matter which A-list fantasy/horror fanboy with $300 million of Warner Bros.' money and Jackson's imprimatur is going to spend four years jacking off behind a camera in New Zealand? It's going to be unwatchable. Not only that, but didn't Jackson make this movie three times already? Here's our exclusive script excerpt: "EXT. FOREST — DAY. Bilbo Baggins furrows his brow. Visual effects and soundtrack happen. INT. CASTLE — NIGHT. Ian McKellen cameo. More effects. EXT. FOREST — DAY. The end." It's a hit! [Salon]

Former BFFs Heather Locklear and Denise Richards have each enjoyed watching the other's respective star status fall farther with each passing year, but the good news is they both share something in common to smile about. While it's not exactly an Emmy, they both look hot in bikinis. Heather's gone from starring in a hit primetime drama and being the object of many a male fantasy to her current role in a Lifetime movie about women over 40 or something. And Denise? Well, after impressing nearly every male on the planet with her pouty lips and lesbian pool antics in Wild Things, she earned the title of Mrs. Charlie Sheen (quite an honor, indeed). Now? She's filming some kind of reality show that no one cares about. What do we care about? Who looks better in their red bikinis, and who's the better surfer! Judge for yourselves after the jump:

How quickly the week rolls by when we know a brand new Dirt Sandwich—Defamer videographer and part-time, uncredited massage therapist Molly McAleer's attempt at making some condensed sense of the week in tabloid television—is waiting for us at the end of it. Today's 6-inch treat comes served on freshly baked jalapeno cheesy bread, overstuffed with slutty Mileys, drunk Lindsays, bear-attack 911 calls, and Brad Pitt in head-to-toe leather undies (kinky!). Most amazing of all, however, is one anonymous TMZ staffer's cracking of the Cheryl Burke Bangs Code, a complex theorem linking the angle of the Dancing with the Stars regular's hair to her blood alcohol level. Watch and learn!

FRIDAY
· Coachella weekend is finally upon us. Too much will be said about it, so we will not waste everyone's time with more about it here.
· Chelsea Handler will continue her impressive streak of not being funny tonight at the Wiltern.
· The Egyptian hosts a Fangoria Convention and screens Night of the Living Dead at the witchy hour of midnight with members of original cast there in the flesh.

The 24 hours since Wesley Snipes's three-year prison sentence for tax evasion have allowed for some perspective-gathering among the crack legal analysts at Defamer HQ. Sifting through the wreckage, we think we've discovered the key weak spots in the Snipes defense that, if only someone had acted sooner, could have kept our 18th (19th?) favorite action star a free man. Don't let this happen to you; follow the jump for a glimpse at the Chuck Norris factor and other Achilles' heels in Snipes's strategy.