Another day, another reality show featuring D-list celebs premieres on basic cable. And last week was no exception, as MTV's Rock the Cradle made a strong showing right out of the gate. That's the program where children of washed-up musicians try to prove that they have as much talent as their parents. Unfortunately, the acorn falls pretty fucking far from the tree. As evidence, may we present Olivia Newton John's daughter, Chloe Lattanzi.

Drew Barrymore recently complained to friends over her dissatisfaction with her iPhone. The Charlie's Angels star doesn't have the heart to tell her boyfriend, Mac Spokesperson Justin Long, that she wants to go back to her old phone. Barrymore explained that she enjoys watching YouTube videos like the sneezing panda whenever she feels blue its just that her Blackberry is her Blackberry and she needs it back. One of Barrymore's friend thought that the iPhone and the Blackberry pretty much did the same thing to which an angry Barrymore replied, "The iPhone is good and all, but the Blackberry is like the phone that God would use if God ever had to make a conference call."

· Jose Canseco presents his "I told you so" book, otherwise known as Vindicated, at Book Soup.
· An evening with television superproducer Mark Burnett at the Luxe Hotel not only includes free wine and cheese, but also a chance to win a Wii! Since when do they give away gaming equipment at industry events like this? Guess Survivor and The Apprentice aren't as hot as they used to be...
· Your evening's musical choices include Radars to the Sky at the Echo, Jonathan Rice at Spaceland and Finch at the Roxy.

Once upon a time, a godfather was a man whose chief mission was to guide a child's religious beliefs. But nowadays, it's just a regular guy who's friends with the parents and buys stuff for the kid ... or so J. Lo and Marc Anthony would have us believe. The "Catholic" couple, whose twins Max and Emme were born on February 22, have reportedly asked Tom Cruise to be their babies' godfather. Yeah, you read that right.

Knowing what we know about Spike Lee's constructively critical awards-podium jeremiads, we think the filmmaker doth protest too much this week about his lack of faith in the Academy Awards. Nevertheless, the sadist in us also appreciates his analysis of the vagaries of Oscar justice that we presume will embrace Lee one of these days:

An unnamed production assistant on the show Gossip Girl attempted to take it to the next level with one of the show's stars, Leighton Meester. After weeks of thinking he was picking up a vibe from Meester (and fueled by the drunken logic of friends over the weekend), the P.A. asked Meester if she'd like to share a Coke with him. Meester smiled and politely said that she'd like to, but she had to go over her lines for the next scene. As the dejected P.A. walked away, a near by teamster scoffed, "If you're gonna try to pull anybody, pull an extra, you big dummy. When you're Mister Big Time Movie Producer, then you go for the star."

Apparently the only shitty thing Dane Cook likes to carry around is his act from five years ago. The "comedian" has had a complaint filed against him in a Los Angeles court because he allegedly refuses to clean up after his tiny Miniature Pinscher, Beast. (Get it? It's little, but it's called something big. Pet naming, now with comedic irony!) The neighbors even claim they have video of the "actor" letting his pooch pinch one off before walking away empty-handed. We hope this footage gets released, because it is most likely the only time we would ever watch a Dane Cook video twice. [NY Post]

Behind the facade of those vacant eyes and the kind of resume that would have had most filmmakers changing careers years ago, we knew there was a reasonable man hiding somewhere inside Uwe Boll. In a recent interview with the horror Web site FEARnet, the critic-boxing director of such celluloid atrocities as BloodRayne, In the Name of the King and Postal made a modest proposal for an early retirement we can all get behind:

With the return of NBC's 30 Rock only four (loooooong) days away, the New York Times has published a feature interview with one of the show's stars, Jack McBrayer. And we're pretty sure his comment about the underwear he was required to don, for the upcoming Forgetting Sarah Marshall, marks the first time the illustrious NYT has ever run the sentence, "They are not flattering on nobody." But that's the sort of thing that happens when a true country boy makes it big.

The only war with a box office record worse than the Iraq conflict is the one that decimated the Balkans in the '90s; the recent Richard Gere/Terrence Howard satire The Hunting Party flailed briefly in theaters on its way to DVD, with only the Owen Wilson/Gene Hackman actioner Behind Enemy Lines barely breaking even back in 2001. Colin Farrell, no bankable factor himself, is reportedly the next Hollywood name to take on the genre — and in case you had any doubt, he takes his role in the upcoming drama Triage very, very seriously:

Scrubs star Zach Braff was spotted leaving Hollywood nightspot Villa over the weekend in bit of a daze. Braff reportedly mumbled under his breath multiple times about a desire to get a burger which was so followed by shouts of "Anybody up for Astro Burgers? Astro Burger! Come on! Astro Burger!" Braff's friends shrugged their shoulders and suggested In-N-Out instead. Braff scoffed, then quickly agreed, citing that he could so go for animal style fries.

Just as we were about to laugh a little bit at Juno Lynn Spears' decision to spend her 17th birthday at a Ruby Tuesday restaurant and going on a shopping spree at Wal-Mart, we remembered back to our 17th birthday and stopped laughing. We were in college, in suburbia, and spent the day in class, then at some chain restaurant with our boyfriend, and probably at the movies in the mall. How quickly we forget that Jamie Lynn is still just a kid! Just because she's grown up before our eyes and starred in a hit show and, well, gotten pregnant, doesn't mean the girl shouldn't abandon her awkward late teen years and all the mall-filled nights that go with them. More details on our favorite real-life Juno and her day of kicking "16 And Pregnant!!!" headlines to the curb, after the jump.

In another case of life imitating art, The Death Star is under attack! By Hitchcockian birds of prey, no less!

Instead of fussing over headlines linking Owen Wilson to Jennifer Aniston on the set of Marley & Me, should Kate Hudson be more worried about the allure of Woody Harrelson's positively perfect butt? Looking downright McConaughey-esque (at least from behind), Harrelson displayed enviable the enviable skill of Olympic-style cliff-climbing while nude during a swim sesh with longtime pal Wilson in Miami over the weekend. And we couldn't be more delighted. Not only have these pictures edged Woody much higher on our list of celebrity crushes, but they've given The Daily Mail the opportunity to Photoshop a mini-animated tale of Woody's butt's ascent from the Atlantic. Though we highly doubt Owen will fall for the Woodster's cheeks, we couldn't resist taking a closer look ourselves after the jump, including a peek at Owen's much more demure choice of swimwear.

See Brad Pitt! See Miley Cyrus! See Mariah Carey! Apparently the only thing you can't see at "Idol Gives Back" are last year's accounting records. For the past month, Fox has blasted viewers with constant reminders that last year's American Idol charity show pulled in $76 million. Yet, according to the New York Times, less than half of this money has actually been distributed to the nine charities involved and, "Some $5 million of last year's proceeds and interest remains undistributed."

It's not just British tabloids ripping apart celebrity body parts; now their own trainers are turning against them to make a buck. Fitness expert Rob Parr has written the summer release Star Quality, in which he shells out detail after "fleshy" detail about the problem areas of stars like Demi Moore, Naomi Watts, and Madonna. And though the blurbs on the back merely outline the "types" of bodies each star had (hourglass, long and slender, and athletic, respectively), he delves far deeper into their Before states in the pages: "

Reformed child star Ashley Olsen took a cue from some of her favorite comic book characters in her on-going battle against her mortal foes, the paparazzi. The pint sized fashion icon felt if she can hide her identity the same way Spiderman hides it from various supervillains, maybe the photographers will finally leave her alone. Olsen intends to spruce up her mask in the upcoming days, perhaps something in a plaid pattern.

When our cultural faith is shaken to its very core by the passing of Charlton Heston and looming Short Circuit remakes, we know we can always find quiet comfort in the security of numbers. Box-office numbers, to be exact:

This probably goes without saying, but the NRA's battle to protect our homes from British colonialists will never be the same without Charlton Heston. So, in honor of the late Mr. Heston, we here at Defamer decided it was high time to bring in the big guns (well, maybe not "big" like the .44 Magnum Clint Eastwood used in Dirty Harry, but this one's got all the unexpected firepower of that little garter gun Angelina Jolie wore in Mr. & Mrs. Smith). That's right, long time confidante of Defamer Paula Dixon will be joining us in a guest blogger capacity for the next two days. You may know her from her court-ordered anger management therapy/comedy blog, People Paula. Or from Suicide Girls. Or from PornTube. Or was it GodTube? We always get those two confused. Either way, we hope you'll give her a proverbial hug as she begins her Defaming duties. Hey you, we said proverbial. Now, on with the show...

A word of advice to the legions of women seeking to disrupt George Clooney's latest extended fling with former cocktail waitress / sand enthusiast Sarah Larson: if you're planning on placing an anonymous phone call to George with the intent of disparaging his ladyfriend, make sure to use a pre-paid cell phone. Because even with the help of his cop/chauffeur's detective skills, Clooney was unable to track the hushed threats that were recently left on his voicemail, threats that apparently came from a rent-a-phone. On them, the anonymous caller ranted, "Dude, your friends asked me to give you a message: Dump the bitch before you're sorry!" The golden couple's reaction, plus reports from an alleged ex revealing Larson's penchants for "love potions", after the jump.