When you're new in Hollywood, or at least a first-timer at the Oscars, one rule to keep in mind: don't act like a diva with witnesses around and then publicly deny your behavior later, for the truth will ALWAYS come back to haunt you. According to a tipster with knowledge of DiabloShoeGate `08, there was a lengthy back-and-forth between Diablo Cody, her stylist, and Stuart Weitzman's people about the diamond-encrusted t-straps that she was supposed to be wearing to the Academy Awards last night. In fact, we have learned that her stylist is the one who approached Weitzman's people in the first place, asking if Cody could pretty please wear his shoes on the carpet. What happened next? Read on for the murky details surrounding a publicity stunt gone terribly wrong.

· In case you missed it—and apparently many, many of you did—it was the Oscars last night. "The Awards averaged a 21.9 rating/33 share. That's down a sharp 21% from last year and the lowest on record in at least 20 years." [THR]
· Martin Scorsese and his widow-peaked muse Leonardo DiCaprio have pre-sold their latest collaboration, an adaptation of Dennis Lehane novel Shutter, to foreign markets for record-breaking amounts. Explained one Italian distribution rep, "That Leo. He, how do you say, nails hot models? And we love the little eyebrows-one, and his little movies. Very good!" [THR]

Come ON, Angie. Now you're just teasing us. After countless denials, brush-offs on CNN, and a downright refusal to fess up already, Miss Jolie showed up at the Independent Spirit Awards wearing a dress so tight we could practically see the alleged twinset kicking their way through her pretty tummy. The black form-fitting gown she wore was hardly maternity wear, and made a point to tell us that we are suckers and she is crafty. Not quite an Eff You to the press, but rather a subtle "I Know You Know What I Know" kind of gesture. Personally, we don't think Angie's obligated to shout her knocked up news from the rooftops, and we actually applaud Mrs. Jolie-Pitt's brazenly ostentatious visual shout-out. Click through to see those future Chosen Ones up close and personal.

We were so preoccupied looking for Charles Nelson Reilly in the In Memoriam segment (who never materialized, by the by), that we completely missed the fact that Brad Renfro was absent from the montage. Usmagazine.com asked the Academy what happened, and a rep offered, "It was really an editing decision because we can't fit everyone in. There was no specific reason." Ignoring for a moment the fact that they really blew it on this one, this statement suddenly had us wondering what the whole whittling process entails. Is it just a morbid casting session, where they get a stack of headshots and go through them by committee? ("Sure, Roscoe Lee Browne has the look, but his last project bombed! OK, fine, we'll put him in the Maybe pile.") [Usmagazine.com]

We take a breather from all things Oscar to celebrate another star-filled reacharound: The premiere of "I'm Fucking Ben Affleck" on Jimmy Kimmel Live last night. It was, of course, the response song to "I'm Fucking Matt Damon," Sarah Silverman's danceable, genre-hopping paean to cuckoldry, delivered as a Valentine to her sweetie on the 5th anniversary of his show.

Even though Hollywood's A-List was deprived of a chance to eat and drink on Vanity Fair's dime last night, two fiestas proved that celebrities will not let a little thing like tradition get in the way of a night of free booze and swag. Elton John's Annual AIDS Foundation Oscar Party usually has a strong turnout of power players, but the star wattage at the 16th incarnation of the bash last night was a few standard deviations past the norm, thanks mainly to the absence of Graydon Carter's soiree. Highlights included Tilda Swinton kissing her Oscar in some sort of Buddhist mating ritual, as well as the public debut of Hollywood's newest power couple, Sean Penn and Petra Nemcova. We've got pictures after the jump.

My goodness. What a night. We wish we could say we managed to get some sleep, but truth be told, we just wandered back in, having spent the last eight hours or so partying at Prince's new mansion—a stunning, 48-room villa he had constructed out of a rare purple travertine found only in Madagascar, which the Demonschlonged One had air-lifted and dropped at its current address of 3121 Mulholland Dr. Apparently, the glitter had yet to fully settle before a minor Oscars controversy erupted: You'll recall when Scott Rudin, whom viewers might have recognized from the classic Goya portrait "Producer Devouring One of His Assistants," closed his Best Picture acceptance speech with a special mention to "my partner, John Barlow. Without you, honey, this is just hardware." His spouse appeared nowhere on the screen—we pictured much mayhem in the control booth, with Gil Cates barking into a headset at a camera operator, "Not Travolta, you fool! Barlow! Check the legend! CHECK THE—oh never mind,"—but it was a tender moment nonetheless. Good As You now notices that the mention has been stricken from the official Academy transcript:

Was Oscar Winner™ Diablo Cody just being an indie snob when she chose not to sport those infamous million dollar shoes or is she beyond cool for refusing to act as some designer's publicity stunt? After reading her MySpace message in response to designer Stuart Weitzman's offering, we're inclined to go with the latter. Plus, silver shoes decked out in diamonds worth more than her tacky dress would be overkill even for Miss Busey-Hunt. As she put it:

Sad news for any schadenfreude addicts out there, but there was nary a swan head nor a peek of butt floss out to be seen on the carpet last night. Instead, we saw 80s-esque gold glitter fiascos (Faye Dunaway), billowy black muumuus (Ellen Page) and particularly poor choices in fabric, especially for a former stripper (Diablo!). While there aren't any oh-no-she-didn't moments, we were disappointed in several of the carpet walkers this evening:

Compared to the last few years of beige, gold and altogether safe ensembles, this year's Academy Awards carpet was delightfully packed with surprising silhouettes (Heidi's exaggerated popped collar), feather detail that drifted nowhere near tackiness (Jessica Alba), and form-fitting strapless dresses that made actresses (gasp!) look like they have actual curvalicious figures (Cameron Diaz). Herewith, our glance at who we think stopped the show last night with their expertly picked dresses.

If you weren't on Mars, you'll know that the Coen brothers' bleak thriller, starring Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin, won Best Picture at the Oscars last night. In the rush to post up the news of the award for No Country for Old Men, the New York Times made a little mistake. (Click for the screenshot.) This real-time web publishing is hard.

We made it! After months of tooth-gnashing and tuxedo-vest-rending, Hollywood's Greatest Night has arrived, and we're here to capture every significant moment for you, in easy-to-digest, timestamped morsels. We've done everything in our power to make sure that things run smoothly, but as always, mishaps do happen. (We're reminded of the tragic 63rd, when Lorraine Bracco's seat-filler inexplicably caught fire.) On the E! pre-show alone, Jennifer Garner's conversation with Ryan Seacrest was interrupted by a shocking neck-smooch attack perpetrated by a possibly candy-flipping Gary Busey. What cameras didn't capture was the fact that the actor was naked from the waist down. No matter. Garner is quarantined, under observation, and seems OK. And you're in the comfort and safety of your own home, where no slobbery Buseys can ever reach you.

Perhaps to inject the otherwise snoozy Oscars tonight (no parties! Stewart again! predictable winners!) with some pizazz, the actresses on the carpet went with red dresses in all shades: Katherine Heigl, sans Josh as far as we could tell, wore a fire engine red one-strap number; Miley Cyrus proved she's still a girl, but not yet a woman, in a tight bright red dress to show off her underage, yet budding, figure; Helen Mirren proved once again that being a slightly more "mature" actress in no way means you can't look sexy. Take a look at all the ladies who took red and made it work:

Welcome to Defamer's Fourth Annual Hollywood Christmas Party — aka, our Oscar Liveblog! This year, we'll be splitting our barbed coverage into two robust and equally exciting halves. Seth will be handling the coverage of the (potentially ratings challenged) ceremony itself (separate post to follow at approximately 5:30pm PST), while your Uncle Grambo will be taking the reins for the pre-show. Stick with us, it's gonna be a rip-roarin' old time!
UPDATE (5:30pm): Looking for the Oscar liveblog? Look no further!

· Yo! Oscar! Over here! It's the 80th Annual Academy Awards Sunday evening, and good things invariably come in extremely round numbers. As is our custom, we'll be liveblogging the entire, bloated affair. Live! (Did we mention that already?) It promises to be four-plus hours of wildly inebriated fun. Be there: 5 p.m. Pacific. And if you can't spend it with us, then we hope you enjoy catching Hepatitis A at Madonna's. That should be a good time, too.
· Pop quiz: What do Lindsay Lohan, Marilyn Monroe, two boobs, and innumerable freckles have in common? Hint: Dina Lohan couldn't be prouder.
· What's with Where the Wild Things Are? Leaked screen tests. Poor audience responses. Possible plug pullings!
· For fans of Can't Stop the Music, and just about no one else: Steve Guttenberg to boogie back into your hearts on Dancing with the Stars.
· My dinner with Clooné.
· Scarlett and Natalie are willing to go there for Boleyn. But can the same be said for Christina and Reese?
· OMG! Hepatitis scare at Ashton's 30th birthday! We know...He's only 30!
· "Paging Dr. Pinsky. Dr. Pinsky to admissions."
· J-Lo's gemini miracle fails to enthrall a nation.
· Hobble your way to digital satellite clarity!
· The lavender Idol monster is back, dragging along some controversy and Apple riding piggyback.
· Put that broken heel under your pillow, and just maybe, Shoe Fairy Neil Patrick Harris with put a brand new pair of Louboutins under your pillow.

· This week's Dirt Sandwich is comprised of tragic tales of depression/cancer/diabetes/AIDS, tiger attacks and missing family members. And, as usual, they were handled with the grace and aplomb we have come to expect from paragons of journalistic integrity like Mark McGrath and Donny Osmond.
· Coked-Up Viral Promotion Theater Presents: Vikki & Kenickie in: THE NIGHT I SHOT EDDIE MUNSTER FOR NOT LOVING "KRAZEE." If you can bear to watch the whole uncensored clip, pay particular attention to what's on the table at 1:19. Doesn't look like pablum to us. [YouTube]
· Finally, the internet gives us what we have been looking for all these years — a site dedicated to chronicling only what white people like. Examples being gentrification, difficult breakups and expensive sandwiches. Yep, three for three! [Stuff White People Like]
· The title of this YouTube clip says it all: Rock Band Baby!!! Funny!!! [YouTube]
· Notoriously cranky movie blogger Jeffrey Wells thinks Ellen Page doesn't stand a chance to win an Oscar because there is "absolutely nothing about her that says 'alluring breeding-age female.'" [Vulture]
· Oscar Bingo! [Thrillist]

Kevin O'Connell, the Susan Lucci of the sound-mixing set, is nominated for an Oscar yet again, this time for his work on Transformers. That makes 20 nominations, 0 wins. (7 more and Katherine Heigl plays him in the movie of his life! Rimshot.) Little Gold Men caught up with O'Connell, but judiciously failed to bring up the infamous Sound Mixer Smackdown from last year's Oscars, when his nemesis Michael Minkler, who shared the statue for his work on Dreamgirls, callously observed, "I think Kevin should go away with 19 nominations ... I have to wonder ... Kevin is an OK mixer, but he should take up another line of work." [VF Daily]

FRIDAY
· The Liars at the El Rey, Built to Spill and the Meat Puppets at the Echoplex (first of 2 nights!), Marilyn Manson at the Wiltern (first of 2 nights!) and Kimya Dawson at Amoeba. There's also a nice triple bill at the Troubadour tonight, featuring The Lovemakers, Something For Rockets and Astra Heights.
· And we know we mentioned this a few days ago, but it's worth re-noting that the Human Giant is still at UCB. Only a few more weeks til Season Two!
Human Giant at UCB again, but worth re-noting.

In case any of you ugly ducklings out there stare at the impossibly adorable and feisty Elisabeth Hasselbeck, The View panel's hawkish contributor, and see in her an unattainably shrill ideal, fear not. She too was once a gawky pre-adolescent, smiling past the sadness through a wall of orthodontic appliances and tragically outmoded frames purchased at the short-lived Sally Jesse Raphael Optical Centers (Your Glasses—and Some Tough Love—in About An Hour!™).

While it remains to be seen whether or not Diablo Cody will be joining the likes of Cameron Crowe and Woody Allen on the list of Oscar-winning writers, one thing is certain: she'll be wearing Million Dollar Shoes to the Academy Awards on Sunday. Tacky tastemaker Stuart Weitzman's infamous Kwiat diamond-encrusted shoes will adorn the Juno scriptess's feet as she walks the carpet. We are proud to report that this news marks Brook's official jump from Former Stripper to Rental Footwear Prostitute. [SF Gate]