Whooop! Whooop! Sound the denial alarm! A spokesperson for Kevin Federline (who sounds suspiciously like K-Fed talking with a ladylike British accent) told Extra that the rumors about the former couchhusband starring in Legally Blonde: The Musical on Broadway are "not true." Face it, UsMagazine.com: You've been pap'd. We smell Kutcher-stink all over this. Or, alternately, that the producers of Legally Blonde: The Musical decided they couldn't accommodate Federline's request that he rap the lyrics to all his numbers. [ExtraTV.com]

With 21 years dividing the first The Lost Boys from its sequel The Lost Boys 2: Return to Lost Boys Island (An Interactive Sing n' Say DVD Adventure), we weren't expecting much from its trailer premiere on MTV.com; recapturing adolescent-vampire lighting-in-a-bottle, after all, seemed to us as unlikely a scenario as Corey Haim securing work from a trade ad announcing his splashy return to the game. Just like we feared, the results are decidedly mixed, as while Santa Carla's immortal tweens population still seems to be up to all manner of bloodsucking hoodlumism, the complete absence of Corey Feldman's name-sharing, platonic life-partner from the proceedings suggests to us that Haim's eventual inclusion in the production whose shunning once made him cry was symbolic at best.

Why must Lindsay Lohan always dress as if she's Steven Tyler's illegitimate daughter? Sobriety is a good thing and all, but maybe she should save outfits like that for when you're wailing away on "Guitar Hero" in the privacy of your own home.

As his far more successful ex-wife continues her seemingly infinite spiral towards a state of ubiquitous oblivion, Kevin Federline has continued to defy all odds and expectations (of which there were none), and secure himself steady—and even prestigious—showbiz employment. To wit: An UsMagazine.com report claims producers of Legally Blonde: The Musical (which we watched in its entirety on MTV over Thanksgiving break—an activity only slightly gayer than gathering around a baby grand with some of your closest, rainbow-bethonged friends for a Sondheim singalong) are circling around America's Formerly Most-Hated Pimp to possibly star in the production:

To say that David Archuleta arrived at the Idol Thunderdome last night carrying with him the judges' raised expectations is akin to saying the Magi had high hopes for that Nazareth kid over at the Ye Bethlehem Inn. He was, as Simon Cowell pronounced in the second week of competition, "the one to beat"—as good a coronation of Saviordom as any. His myth quickly grew: Animated woodland critters would suddenly appear every time he opened his mouth to sing...His voice could heal the lame, bringing to his feet scores of girls afflicted with a rare condition that rendered them incapable of lowering their arms...His farts smelled like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. But anyone watching could immediately tell that something was not right:

Despite heading back to work and getting his girl back, it looks as if all isn't entirely well in Owen Wilson's world. The NY Post is reporting that Wilson showed up at a private party in Miami over the weekend, where he was snapped attempting to dance across the water of a pool by a local paparazzo named Manny Hernandez. And while we tend to trust the celebrity over the pap in situations like this, it is worth noting that this is offense number two in Wilson's post-rehab paparazzo bullying file. As you might recall, he and Fotog Fighter king Woody Harrelson got into a brawl with the press in Peru back in December.

· The first tantalizing images from Britney Spears's next music video have emerged, revealing that the director has devised a clever way to avoid missed call times and awkward wardrobe fittings: Animate her! Still, not all crises were averted, as a famished Cartoon Britney accidentally devoured the cast of Aqua Teen Hunger Force, who happened to be wandering by on their way to a shoot next door. [The Sun]
· Lede of the Day: "CNN said it shouldn't have used a former U.S. attorney who quit his job after allegedly biting a stripper as an analyst about New York Gov. Eliot Spitzer's prostitution scandal." [AP]
· jPod, Canada's Quarterlife, has been canceled. Paging Rockstar Silverman. Paging Rockstar Ben Silverman: Hot foreign series concept in need of U.S. retooling! [The Vancouver Sun]
· The Photoshop Disasters blog wonders what it is about the solid bar between two skyscraper windows that fascinates The Dark Knight so. [Photoshop Disasters]
· Stoner Mary Ann is even cuter when her uncropped mugshot shows you how little she is! [Yahoo News]

Step aside, Ghost of Marlon Brando. Hit the bricks, Bobby DeNiro. The newest disciple of Constantin Stanislavski's renowned Method acting technique is none other than Miss Foxy Cleopatra herself, Beyonce Knowles. Fresh off of her exciting and unexpected upset of Kanye West in a heated match of Connect Four, Beyonce arrived on the set of Cadillac Ranch this week determined to regain all of the buzz that Jennifer Hudson usurped from her in Showgirls Dreamgirls. In fact, she's so dedicated to making her performance as Etta James shine that she's taken to staying in character both on and off the set. As this Media Take Out tipster reports:

Few came away from Ang Lee's vision of Hulk—about two freakishly massive, green cowboys who smash boulders and each others' hearts on the open Wyoming plain—feeling the director had really done the Marvel source material justice. So it was with a measure of relief that Ed Norton announced he would be sweeping in to reclaim the franchise, with a bold re-envisioning of the beloved tale of Dr. Banner and his rageoholic, gamma-bomb-enhanced Mr. Hyde. Now, reports Deadline Hollywood Daily, the legendarily exacting Norton has been locking horns with the Marvel Studios brass over final cut:

You think it's easy being a Hilton? Think again.

International ambassador of the ancient Quebecois artform of chest-thump singing Celine Dion was nabbed by an unfeeling British tabloid press recently. Her crime: performing to a Tokyo crowd sporting a pair of unwaxed legs, giving her the aura of a power-ballad-belting kiwifruit when exposed to harsh backlighting. It's precisely this kind of music industry double-standard (Tom Jones had to insure his chest against depilatory acts of God) that really makes us appreciate all that goes into being a French Canadian diva, and resist our reflexive instinct to make greatest-hits-inspired jokes ("I Drove All Night (To Find An Open Drug Store Selling Venus Razors)," "(What Do You Say To) Taking Personal Grooming Chances," etc...) at the singer's expense.

We don't know about you, but it sure feels like we hear the Law & Order thump-thump scene-setting music at least forty times a day as it is. Seriously, the last thing we need is the ominous tone emanating from our cell phones. But the capitalistic video game creators at Limelife have made Law & Order: Celebrity Betrayal for us anyway. According to LimeLife head Kristen McDonell, the game "will cast users as part of the detective squad solving the 'crime' and will appeal to women's 'puzzle solving' propensity." Yes, because nothing nails that hard-to-reach women's demo more than the combination of the phrases "celebrities" and "betrayal." We can't wait for the small-screen version to debut on Lifetime; we hear Dick Wolf is in the market for his 18th vacation home. [Collider]

With the recent absorption by tractor beam of sputtering starship New Line Cinema into the immense Warner Borg, the LAT takes a moment to reassess the legacy left behind by its founder, Bob Shaye. Shaye was the last of a dying breed of Honchos With Heart—lumbering, larger-than-life mogulsaurs, pounding their deep footprints into the early indie landscape, and scooping smaller talents into their gaping mandibles along the way. His only crime: that sometimes he cared too much:

What would happen if The Devil Wears Prada knocked up Sex and The City: The Movie and they had five kids? Besides the birth of our worst nightmare, that is? Well, Disney's upcoming Confessions of a Shopaholic franchise will be sashaying from its likely pink carpet premiere to a theater near you (sorry) next Valentine's Day. The British books, penned by Sophie Kinsella, starred a clumsy heroine who manages to be even less likable than Bridget Jones. Pictures from the set of the film have just starting rolling in, and while we want to believe Isla Fisher can save the movies from being chick flick throwaways, the sight of her in this over-the-top (even for the Brits) bridesmaid dress doesn't exactly put our minds at ease. [Just Jared]

It's been nearly two months since we first heard about The Chosen Two's impending arrival, but judging from the size of Angelina Jolie's widening waistline, we suspect Brad's super sperm went into baby-making action a bit earlier than that. Seen yesterday shopping for books in Austin, Texas, Angelina's belly seems to be expanding at an exponential rate not yet seen in celebrity pregnancies. Which got us thinking, what if we saddled Jolie up next to J. Lo and Julia Roberts just before they burst? That way, we can begin to suss out just what size muumuu to FedEx to Casa Brangelina come spring.

FH: "The kids have got me burning the candle at both ends. It's either they want this or they want that and it always changing. We hate cupcakes. No, we love cupcakes. You know, make up your mind about what kind of treats you want to bring in for your class on your birthday, already? And Bill is no help either. He's been in a funk ever since the Coen Brothers stopped returning his calls. I always tell him that sure they might be geniuses, but they're still creepy. The Coens don't have the market cornered on being creepy geniuses. Then there's my agent. This effin guy keeps on hounding me to do this Zac Efron movie. It's a nice payday, but it doesn't challenge me as an actor. I want to be challenged with my craft. I was nominated for an Oscar! Uff. I don't know anymore, Eva. I really don't know."

As we noted earlier, living pop icon Madonna, who was once nailed to the disco-cross for our voguing sins, was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame last night at New York's Waldorf Astoria Hotel. She was first introduced by recent collaborator/turning-out-victim Justin Timberlake, who warmed up the crowd with an amusing anecdote about the time Madonna injected his SexyBack with a B12 vitamin shot. (At least that's what she told him she was doing, though we suspect that syringe was pulling in the opposite direction, drawing the necessary genetic matter for a longer-term project that involves melding two generations of pop superstars' DNA together into a single, hybrid host body for her cryogenically preserved brain.)

While many bright-eyed actresses with big dreams will hit the casting couch circuit in an attempt to land their first break, Jenna Fischer wasn't willing to give it up after an entire year spent pounding the Los Angeles pavement. But now that she's a big star, she understandably has some choice words for the screenwriter who, a few years back, gave her shit for refusing to drop trou for him. In an interview with Playboy, Jenna tells a story about what happened after she ran into Halloween 5 screenwriter Shem Bitterman at a party one year into her move-west-and-act life plan. Apparently, her non-interest in starring in a "like, really raunchy" new film of his spurred the scribe to claim she was clearly "not a real actress." And while the old Jenna did nothing but go home and cry her newbie eyes out, the emboldened Office star has this to say to the Bitterman today:

While the plight of celebrity munchies-sufferers has been exhaustively documented in Pot Culture, their editors seem to forget that the communing with sweet bud by the highly recognizable masses is not something relegated to the current generation. Why, none other than Dawn Wells, Gilligan's Island's sacrificial-virgin offering to brunette-lovers, was picked up back in October for driving erratically on an Idaho highway. "A search produced four half-smoked joints and two small cases to store marijuana — which she blamed on hitchhikers." She was sentenced to a small fine and six months unsupervised probation, with her coconut bongs and hemp hammocks ordered confiscated from her ganja hut. And commenters be warned: All the Mary Ann/Mary Jane jokes have already been covered by Harvey Levin's ankle-shackled galley slaves. [TMZ]