Our tireless observation of the Liz Smith Dirty Old Lady beat has yielded its second bounty in a week, with the lesbian gossip icon waxing fanciful about Nicole Kidman's glorious, supple, unaugmented breasts. "I do recall Nicole saying to me in the distant past that she always felt she wasn't well-endowed and she wished she were," Smith wrote today on her site Wowowow, directing readers to a photo of her and Kidman. "Does this look like a girl who needed breast surgery? No, this is Nicole all natural as the good Lord made her at the Vanity Fair party Oscar night. I admire a fine belle poitrine as much as anyone, but I can't stand these added-on half grapefruits that look as unnatural as can be. I have known Nicole for a long time now and her natural assets were quite good enough to start with." No fans of bolt-ons ourselves, we're happy to have at least this modest overlap in taste in common with our hero; really, for a while there we thought we'd lost her. [Via Queerty]

CSI star Marg Helgenberger would like you to believe that she's busy reading the shit out of Richard Price's latest novel, Lush Life. Yet in reality, hidden behind that dust cover is a copy of US Weekly, which is actually hiding a copy of Highlights magazine, which is also being used as a diversion for another magazine, Penthouse Forum.

As the country plods along to what seems like inevitable recession, not all trends suggest our economy is necessarily swirling clockwise down the shitter. Take the celebrity-baby-photo market, a financial spit-up bubble seemingly incapable of bursting. Leading the way is People magazine, who apparently have a budget surplus in the trillions to lavish on Hollywood's most recognizable faces and the powerblobs they spawn. They rocked the status quo back in 2006 by shelling out $4.1 million for a glimpse of Shiloh Nouvel Jolie-Pitt, and more recently paid $6 million to Jennifer Lopez for a stunning photoset in which her adorable newborns were woven into a plexus of mother's hair extensions, like nested baby sparrows awaiting their next grub feeding.

The months-long anticipation we've experienced awaiting new episodes of NBC comedies has almost totally destabilized Defamer HQ, particularly in our speculations as to how the network would gently reintroduce us to programming like My Name is Earl. Would we see a brief sketch with Jason Lee agreeing to return to work on the condition of no more Paris Hilton cameos? Would the show go meta, with its cast treating its staff writers to a Earl-esque karma intervention? Or would NBC boss Jeff Zucker hijack the moment and squander yet another two minutes of viewer goodwill? Wait — did we just give it away?

Take another look at that $6m spread in People on Jennifer Lopez's newborn twins. It's a picture of parental bliss. The actress displays the requisite ecstasy as she and husband Marc Anthony skip down the front drive, each pushing a stroller. (For $6m, People had a right to a bit of a show.) But turn to page 55, and look closely at Emme Maribel, the couple's daughter. Some dark intelligence is evident behind those eyes. For the close-up:

After an independent investigation into yesterday's stunning report by The Smoking Gun that the LAT had managed to be duped by a federally incarcerated Turtle-like, who forged FBI documents implicated Sean "Puffy" Combs's entourage in the 1994 shooting of Tupac Shakur at the Quad Recording Studios in Times Square (five bullets, including one through his head and one through his scrotum), the paper has now officially issued on apology:

Justin Chambers, of Grey's Anatomy "fame", is one of those actors you have a really tough time figuring out whether you'd rather slap across the face or take him home for a one-night stand. In the end, of course, you'd like to do both. But after reading this story regarding his behavior while going out solo in Palm Springs this week, we're more inclined to team up with his wife Keisha, don The Bride's yellow onesies and stage a formal attack directed by Tarantino. (Maybe Rodriguez could even lend us a machine gun leg-strap-on?) According to Star:

Even though the Warner Bros. ax has yet to fall around New Line headquarters and the Tolkien family still wants its cash for The Lord of the Rings saga, Sir Ian McKellen took to his blog (We know! We're as stunned as you are) Wednesday to confirm he's "keeping [his] diary open for 2009" to reprise his role as Gandalf in The Hobbit. But that's only the half of McKellen's big gay update, which also includes hot nose-tweaking action and yawning confirmations of his LOTR co-stars' heterosexuality:

· We take three things from this video: One, Haitian Weather Guy is about the lowest-stress vocation on the planet. Two, some videos really do improve upon subsequent viewings. And three, if there's a Meaning of Life, Arthur knows it. [YouTube]
· K-Fed's loving father, forgiving ex, and capable role-model game is ridiculous. [In Touch]
· Tonight, two of our very favorite animated things—South Park and Canadian sci-fi fleshcore classic Heavy Metal—are to be combined into one, brainmeltingly awesome new thing. (One can only hope.) [Vulture]
· Cajun chef Paul Prudhomme was grazed by a bullet on a Louisiana golf course today, upon which he instantly started hemorrhaging gravy. [USA Today]
· The only bad thing about the gigantic piano house is the 40-foot-tall Liberace who tramples the village to come play it every full moon. [Weird Asia News via Thighmaster]

While most of you heathens were watching The Hills and/or The New Adventures Of Two And A Half Men Who Met Your Mother on Monday night, your Uncle Grambo was plowing through the first two and a half hours of the new Frontline documentary, Bush's War. On an emotional level, it was a thoroughly exhausting experience — reliving those nightmarish days of September 2001 and the resulting six-plus years of what can only be described as another long national nightmare had precisely the opposite effect on my sleep patterns as a fistful of Ambien. That said, it deserves classification as essential viewing, regardless of your party affiliation. That said, this post is not about George Bush or politics, nor does it have anything to do with the subject matter of the two-part series that Variety describes as a "great historical drama." Rather, it's about how glorious it was to watch a news documentary that was specifically tailored to HDTV and why we're considering boycotting 60 Minutes until they make the switchover to hi-def programming.

We're thrilled to report the extending of an olive branch in the East Coast-East Coast comedy wars that have devastated the industry since a Tina Fey quote in Reader's Digest appeared to openly question Jon Stewart's ability to earn sincere laughs, vs. politically aligned "clapter." Fey told cinemablend.com that the quote was taken out of context:

Because we at Defamer love nothing more than to give hard-working Hollywood aspirants a nudge up the fame ladder, we now pass along exciting news from CourtneyFine.com, your one-stop resource for updates on the local "songstress and performer extraordinaire," and, as you'll soon learn, occasional dabbler in the true-crime-recreating arts:

· Id Vicious, "improv comedy with a punk rock attitude", will be at The Next Stage at 9:00 p.m. We can only hope that they bring out a whole bunch of Ex Pistols with them, for that would make for one helluva Harold.
· Break out your skinny jeans for Tokyo Police Club at the Troubadour, Alberta Cross at Spaceland and Jessica Fichot at Tangiers.
· Lisa Lutz presents Curse of the Spellmans at Vromans.
· Eye Mouth Graffiti Bodyshop & 20 Plays in 20 Minutes at the Theatre of NOTE has — from what we can tell — poetry brought to life with actors and dancers. It's been described by the LA Weekly as "invigorating and discomfiting as standing in the cold breeze of an alleyway," whatever the heck that means. Writers!

The valet at the Malibu Nobu asked if, in lieu of the standard tip, he could have a much desired Hollywood moment and "hug it out" with Jeremy Piven. Piven reached for his wallet to only discover that it was full of large bills and slowly went in for the hug.

In a stunning development that could throw into jeopardy the jobs of millions of blue collar Americans working in the top-model-refining industry, Tyra Banks may have finally had it with the reality TV competition that effectively launched her star, OK! magazine reports. Things have reportedly gotten "so bad" on the set between Tyra and photo-shoot taskmaster Mr. Jay (who—little known fact—can control the weather by merely rolling back his eyeballs!) that the two "aren't speaking." Even more disturbing, Tyra "only wants to show up on judging day," waiting for the camera's red light to come on before phoning in trademark advice like, "There's a big difference between [wild-eyed facial expression] and [totally fierce facial expression]."

Harvey Weinstein's tough week didn't get any easier today, with his Marley family squabbles and Star Wars-geek travails cycling back around this morning to the Anthony Minghella tragedy that started it all. Except that film critic David Edelstein had more than what you might call a moment of clarity in his New York Magazine blog entry slamming Harvey for the filmmaker's artistic demise:

Whoo boy, LAT, this does not look good. According to The Smoking Gun, the alleged FBI documents the newspaper relied upon in their bombshell report accusing Sean "Diddy-Puffy-Puff Daddy-Sean John-P.Diddy" Combs's associates of having carried out the 1994 shooting of Tupac Shakur were forged. The culprit? Incarcerated con man named James Sabatino, a portly wigga with a vivid imagination and a desperate need to inject himself by any means necessary into the great hip-hop events of the latter 20th Century. From The Smoking Gun's report:

Mere days after MPAA mascot Dan Glickman and pals around town swore up one side and down the other that movies are a relatively inexpensive, recession-proof industry, a group of brass-balled fate tempters — including "the Retirement Systems of Alabama pension fund" (we can't make this up) — are betting that even $35 tickets wont scare off potential patrons of their planned luxury chain.

After being subjected to 18 years worth of sweeping up the giant tufts of rogue body hair that accumulated in the shower drain each and every morning, Marsha Garces Williams has filed for divorce from her husband, the terrifyingly hirsute funnyman Robin Williams. Citing irreconcilable differences (the legal statute, not the 1984 Ryan O'Neal / Drew Barrymore vehicle), the (soon to be former) Mrs. Williams is seeking spousal support and custody of the pair's youngest daughter, Cody. While this is certainly sad news, we did discover one interesting tidbit about the pair in the report filed by ExtraTV.com (Must! Credit!).

First, my friends and I are going to get ready at our hotel. Did I tell you that we got a hotel for the night? Yeah, we got a hotel in the city for the night. What's the point of going back to New Haven after all the fun we're going to have? So, we're going to have a make up artist and a hair stylist get us all glammed up and then, after that, my boyfriend and his friends are coming into the city. I guess that our parents are going to come and take like a bajillion photos of us. It's always good to have a lot of pictures though. Then after that, we're going to have dinner at the Waverly Inn. Maybe we'll get to see Chace Crawford & JC together or maybe even an Olsen twin!?! Do you watch Gossip Girl? I love that show. I hope we see somebody from that show when we're in the city. After dinner, we're gonna go to the prom and I know that probably my boyfriend and his friends are going to be a little drunk and I might be, too, but it doesn't matter, we're still going to have a good time. I hope that the DJ plays that OneRepublic song and then who knows what's going to happen after that? We are staying in the city after all.