As the strike drags on into its second week, minority artist factions have begun to splinter off for their own satellite demonstrations — notable instances include yesterday's wildly successful "Picketing with the Stars" event at Universal Studios, and the lesser-attended Eleven Man March on the Mall, in which every working African-American WGA member hoisted placards at The Grove. In that vein, the Hot in Hollywood blog is helping to organize what to our knowledge will be the first Gay Writer's Pride Parade in history:

· Music round-up: Suzanne Vega at the El Rey; Oliver Future at the Roxy; HIM at the Orpheum; Athlete at the Troubadour.
· 826LA's Book*Smart Nightclub series returns to Largo with music by Loudon Wainwright III, comedy by Jarrett Grode, and a reading by Mary Otis. The money goes towards 826's tutoring programs, making your enjoyment of the evening's entertainment all the richer.
· At the Comedy Union, a fearsome lineup including Steve "Brian Posehn's Big Orange Lover" Agee, Brody Stevens, Rob Delaney, and Bryan Callen will be on hand for an Old School All Star Comedy Party.

Congratulations are in order for actress/scenester/pre-achievement semicelebrity Rumer Willis, who earlier today was crowned Miss Golden Globe 2008, the single highest honor the Hollywood Foreign Press Association can bestow upon the female, teenage progeny of an internationally recognizable performer whose staggering success is unlikely to be replicated by his or her pampered offspring.

Writers for The Daily Show—for us, at least, the single biggest hole that's been blown in the TV schedule thus far—are refusing to be slowed by their temporary lack of an indoor studio, regular host, and Comedy Central-financed production values, producing a strike-altered version of the program on the streets of NY.

Unsatisfied with Blizzard Entertainment's recent hiring of independent carpentry contractor All Star Installations in Irvine, Carpenters Local 1506 has strategically (albeit somewhat puzzlingly) staged a miniature "hired gun" protest outside Universal Music Group's Santa Monica office, a highly visible locale tangentially connected within the Vivendi family. It's always fun to see a protest unfold, but something's missing in the scene above given the whirlwind events of the last two weeks. Where's Ray Romano? Where's Picketing Baby!? Informational, rat-lingo-suffused flyers are currently being passed out in lieu of churros:

If you're anything like us, you find yourself drifting off in the middle of conversations wondering how Marie Osmond's 16-year-old son is doing. The answer: Not great. ET, who this year purchased the underlying rights to Marie's soul, helpfully mass -emailed the following plea for privacy just moments ago: "My son Michael is an amazing young man shown through his courage in facing his issues. As his mother I couldn't be more proud of him. The press and public has always been kind and gracious in the past and I know they will continue to respect our privacy during this time." [ETOnline]

Lost in all the hubbub over the delicious, if nutritionally suspect, sticks of cinnamon-caked goodness CAA's Armani-clad cater-waiters served to striking writers from atop sparkling, silver trays was the Agency for the Performing Arts' far healthier option: granola bars and Capri Sun juices, fare that earned the smaller shop 6 out of 10 health points in this round-up of picket-line snacks, a score easily surpassing the -2 assigned to the churros. On this day, at least, no one was asking, "Who the fuck invited APA?" [LAT]

In honor of Project Runway's return tonight (and just in the nick of time, as the prospect of nothing but new episodes of The Rachael Ray Show made us want to plunge the closest shish-kabob skewer into the spongy centers of our brains), we thought we'd salute the competition's unsung heroes: The models, blank canvases called upon week after week to strut down the titular thoroughfare looking far sexier and more confident than anyone forced by a mentally unstable designer to wear a chain-basket hat has any right to be. And with a nod to our previous Runway guessing game , we'll throw out another puzzler: Which of these models loves the New York Mets, is addicted to chick flicks, and simply abhors tardiness? The answer is here.

While other protestors have recently opted for more scatological expressions of frustration with their stubborn, internet-devaluing studio opponents, the Incredible Picketing Baby, unquestionably the work stoppage's breakout star, is keeping things classy at the Warner Bros. line today. We're especially enamored of her Goodnight Moonves sign, which instantly brings to mind the bedtime story being read to the children of parents weary from their long hours on the picket line, in which a union-supporting youngster wishes a fitful night's sleep to the studio executives whose ears are still ringing from yet another day of headache-inducing chants.

Kudos to the Wall Street Journal for profiling an atypical celebrity of sorts this morning: John Wesley Jermyn, better known as "The Crazy Robertson" or "The Robertson Dancer" to locals. Jermyn, onetime draft choice for the Kansas City Royals and a fixture for years on the southern tip of the celebrity-drizzled slice of Robertson, has over the course of two decades made a name for himself by doing one thing and doing it better than anybody else: dancing on rollerblades in riotous sheer spandex outfits.

· NBC drops out of the Television Critics Association winter press tour due to the writers strike, a move that will rob reporters of the chance to witness a retaliatory beatdown of Peacock perfect storm Ben Silverman by the network-running rivals he recently disparaged as "D-girls". [Variety]
· Entourage's Kevin Dillon joins Emma Roberts, Don Cheadle and Lisa Kudrow in hotly anticipated canine-housing drama Hotel for Dogs. [THR]
· Wistfully envisioning a time when writers and studios can once again skip down Hollywood Blvd hand-in-hand, New Line signs Neil LaBute to script a remake of The Woman Next Door once the strike is over. Helen Mirren's husband [Ed. note—HAAACKFORD!] to direct. [Variety]

Periodically an advertiser gives us (well, someone here!) a lot of money to run a contest. This time around, the advertiser is the sketch comedy show, The Whitest Kids U'Know. Since issues of race are interesting to us anyway, we were happy to create a contest. We're asking you to send a photograph of (wait for it) the whitest kid you know. A couple of things: First, you must actually know this person. We won't accept photographs of, for instance, Sir Harry Evans, unless you actually know Sir Harry Evans! Secondly, the person doesn't have to be white. Race is a social construct. Whiteness can be interpreted in any way you wish. But just like in college, your reading of whiteness must be bolstered by robust argument! Thirdly, you can be the whitest kid you know. Entirely possible, possibly likely! Also, there's a prize and rules.

Alec Baldwin recently took the time to send a personal letter to Hillary Clinton and her fellow senators, imploring them to vote no on a proposed $10 billion farm subsidies bill before that could potentially turn already overweight children into a generation of cream-cheese-and-donut gobbling gluttons with an upper-range life expectancy of 14. From the NY Daily News:

In an e-mail blast, the WGA has just announced the latest performance in its acclaimed Rockin' For Internet Residuals concert series, which recently featured a dramatic reunion of the principal members of Rage Against the Machine: "SINGER K.T. TUNSTALL TO PERFORM TODAY ON THE PICKET LINE
TO SUPPORT STRIKING WGA WRITERS/ WHAT: Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter K.T. Tunstall will perform an impromptu acoustic set this afternoon on the picket line to support striking WGA writers./
WHEN: Wednesday, November 14, 2007 2:00 p.m./ WHERE: NBC Burbank 3000 W. Alameda Avenue Burbank, CA *K.T. will perform near the Tonight Show sign on the NBC lot."

No, this WGA picketer's sign (click the photo to enlarge) probably won't help to elevate the level of discourse in the already-ugly war of words raging between the writers and studios, but it may finally force AMPTP bogeyman Nick Counter to address some of the rapidly proliferating rumors concerning him on his organization's website:

Hugh Grant bought an Andy Warhol painting of Liz Taylor in 2001 for $3.6 million, which sold at Christie's auction yesterday for $21 million—less than the $25 million it was valued at, but still a tidy profit of over $17 million. Those sums were dwarfed, however, by Lot 66401: Suri's First Poop, which took in a staggering $147 million from a private collector in Southeast Asia. [timesonline]

As the demonized Queen of the Picket-Line Crossers Ellen DeGeneres (it wasn't her Kathy Griffin was referring to on her placard slogan, but it easily could have been) continues to tape new episodes from her Burbank studios, the WGA East's campaign to prevent the comedian from bringing her show to New York next week appears to have been successful:

This week's special issue of People—perhaps the magazine's second-most anticipated installment behind its annual Baby Bumps, Secret Weddings, and Conspicuous Nose Jobs spectacular—brings some happy news: Matt Damon will wear the magazine's Sexiest Man Alive tiara for the next 12 months, a choice that may indicate a seismic shift in the criteria it uses to select its honorees; if this newly established precedent holds, we may be entering a Golden Age of Sexy Lists in which less conventionally handsome Hollywood stars (work out all you want, Matt, you still have the face of a cherub who can't quite lose those last three pounds of baby-angel fat) can compete on equal footing with the throbbing slabs of leading-man-beef who tend to dominate the glossies' evaluations of Hollywood hunksmanship. People explains its choice:

As the writers strike creeps into double digits (we wish we had a photo of the WGA Ring Girl defiantly holding up a DAY 10 sign, but we suppose one of Kathy Griffin with a dick joke will do for now), here's today's morning round-up of news:

· Continuing in the proud tradition of investigative journalism that's yielded penetrating reports on in the parking lots of local clubs, TMZ TV goes deep inside the world of Hollywood tour guides who could be better informed about the sights on their bus routes.
· Harvey Weinstein denies being a DJ-battering badass willing to throw down to defend the honor of a female companion.
·The author of Rosemary's Baby has passed.
· GSN is happily promoting itself as "The Other Strike-Proof Basic Cable Network."
· The first pics of Winona Ryder's son have made it online.