What's it like bringing a rack of clothes over to Madonna's house for a fashion shoot fitting? Everything you've ever dreamed it would be. [worldofwonder.net]

Ann Curry made hiccup-girl cry! Way to go, Ann Curry. The only thing that could possibly make this more absurdly hilarious is if, after recovering from the waterworks, she started hiccuping again. [Gawker]

Since Owen Wilson was hospitalized on Sunday, TMZ has done five posts about the world's saddest clown. This is a bit odd, considering that on the single day that Lindsay Lohan got caught with cocaine in the pants that weren't hers, the site did 24. Why aren't they updating us on his every move? Why haven't they talked to "friends" and his brothers and anyone who ever took a crap within a 12-mile radius of him? Something's fishy. Is TMZ suddenly all sensitive because Owen attempted suicide? Maybe. But doubt it. Any ideas? Do let us know.

On the eve of Labor Day, is there any better moment to reassess your current employment status? Sure, being a third assistant assigned to a hell-spawned second starter wife has its privileges...Actually, no. No it doesn't. That bitch once dislodged a freshly laquered French manicure tip in your eyeball for bringing back a pint of Pinkberry of unacceptable consistency. Get a new job. Get it now. We can help:

We were sufficiently convinced that it sucks being Bobby Brown by Bravo's televisual testament to the fecal-based triumphs and tragedies of his unholy union with Whitney Houston. Never one to rest on his pathetic laurels, however, Brown has decided to fight a judge's April ruling that dissolved his marriage and awarded full custody of doomed spawn Bobbi Kristina to Whitney, on the grounds that he is merely a selfless giver screwed over by a wicked teen-napping succubus:

With the Seinfeld Curse finally lifted in the form of the not-particularly-funny The New Adventures of Old Christine (but it hasn't been canceled! So the Curse is lifted!), Elaine spreads the wealth by giving George a job, a CBS rep says. [abcnews.go.com]

If there's one bright spot to the massive, black thundercloud hanging over Hollywood this week, it comes in the form of an outpouring of love and genuine sympathy for Owen Wilson—not just from his fans, but from fellow celebrities, who know first hand of the inner turmoil that can accompany being permanently strapped into the fame machine, and who would go to great lengths to inform Entertainment Tonight's cameras of how much they are pulling for him in his time of need:

New Line's upcoming gun-porn action flick Shoot 'Em Up has already demonstrated the entertaining merits of ripping off a few rounds in the direction of an armored baby. But according to the movie's star, burgeoning imperiled-infant junkie Clive Owen, the real value for America is when you strip them of their defenses and chuck the helpless pawns into a steady stream of danger:

· The Venice Film Festival opening film—a WWII drama starring Keira Knightley called Atonement—was screened to mostly positive word of mouth, a triumph capped by fest organizers allowing star James McAvoy to have full access to the controls of the Ceremonial Wrecking Ball. [Variety]
· Renee Zellweger and Harry Connick Jr. are circling Chilled in Miami, a romcom about "a Miami businesswoman who's transferred to the sticks of Minnesota." Why do we have a feeling we'll be forced to watch this on a five-inch screen trapped in American Airlines rat-class? [Variety]
· We honestly thought Singing Bee's title as absolute worst show on TV was safe, but now we're not so sure: Dance War: Bruno vs. Carrie Ann is a go as an ABC midseason replacement, hosted by Nick Lachey's twinkle-toed brother, Drew. [Variety]
· BermanBraun, the petri dish result of combining toppled Paramount tyrant Gail Berman with former Yahoo-square-peg Lloyd Braun into a production company that sounds like a hand-blender, has hired a Yahoo exec to join them on their march to total media domination. [THR]
· Rejoice, Xbox Live subscribers: Family Guy episodes are merely a click away, with the added feature of being able to vaporize the annoying Griffin family with a variety of Gears of War weaponry at the end of every episode. [THR]

Reporters have been barred by CBS from asking Big Brother 8's Amber about the "controversial" remarks she made about Jews that were captured by the reality show's all-seeing cameras. [Reality Blurred]

Venice Film Festival update: Jellyfish have invaded and are totally ruining Keira Knightley's swimming plans! Also: At 156 minutes, Ang Lee's NC-17-rated Lust, Caution is a chore to sit through, despite featuring sex scenes so explicit, it makes a spittle-assisted Jack Twist-taking seem tame by comparison. [filmexperience]

Those tender-hearted moralists at OK! magazine — who wrestled publicly with whether or not to print the pictures from its excrement-crusted Britney Spears shoot — are at it again: They now say they are dropping their planned exclusive coverage of Dannielynn on her first birthday. Since this can't possibly have anything to do with the glut of father-daughter pictures we just saw in Us Weekly, there must be some other, far more scandalous explanation—and there is! Please ready yourselves for earth-rending allegations that, unfortunately, can only be discussed with tantalizing vagueness:

Kevin Federline's swift and illustrious rise up the Spears Industries ranks—humbly starting as a background dancer, then being promoted to Chief Bongwater Replacement Engineer, and ultimately landing a corner-office position as their Director of Knocking-Up Services—was as remarkable a transformation by any celebrity couchhusband in recent memory. Even once he was terminated, nothing could stop his lofty pimp ambitions, and it wasn't long before Super Bowl endorsement deals and meaty roles opposite industry giants like Chad Michael Murray began to pour in. So how Shorty-feting, bullet-riddled rap star 50 Cent could somehow lay the blame for Britney's recent troubles on K-Fed is anyone's guess:

Comedian and provocateur-about-town Andy Dick is certainly no stranger to the consequences of failing to respect personal boundaries, having in the recent past been forcibly escorted off the Jimmy Kimmel Live set for repeatedly attempting to caress a Trump Thigh (not Donald's—but no scenario is entirely out of the realm of possibility for the lusty pansexualist), as well as having received a vigorous beat-down from an incensed Jon Lovitz, a pummeling lovingly dedicated to the memory of Phil Hartman. But when one of TMZ's camera-equipped henchmen approached Andy for comment during a rare moment of vulnerability—he had just seconds before been deemed too pants-deficient by the Guardians of the Velvet Rope stationed outside club Opera for entry—the tables upon which his harem of leggy escorts were intended to dance the night away were turned. Ignoring the fervent pleas of his skanktourage to leave the photographer alone, a mouth-foaming Dick chased his target down the Walk of Fame. It's a terrifying pursuit that was caught on tape, making it a rare and valuable resource for emergency response technicians hoping to be more prepared in the inevitable event of future Dick attacks.

· He may snort his father's ashes, but Keith Richards, sir, is not—nor was he ever—superdrunk.
· This year's Detour lineup is revealed. For us it really comes down to one little word: Justice.
· We hoped we'd never have to type the words "and Bobby Trendy as Himself" in our lifetime. We were wrong.
· Paul Haggis has been suffering from a mild case of writer's block on his Casino Royale follow-up script. Look to the twins for inspiration, Paul!
· Sherry Lansing and William Friedkin are suing ADT Security Services for failing to prevent their Bel-Air home from falling victim to burglars. We know—compelling stuff.
· AfterElton takes the fall TV season's temperature, and it's colder than Lance Bass's career. Thank god we have those Cavebears!

It's typical that a shared traumatic event will be followed by a glut of articles seeking advice from mental health professionals; MSNBC, for example, spoke with suicide researcher Loren L. Coleman on a variety of topics concerning Owen Wilson's "very bad day," including the threat of irresponsible blogging (apparently we throw around words like "failed" and "succeeded" without thinking about the implications of such goal-oriented terminology), and the inevitable copycat question:

The first cranes are up at the future site of Hollywood's W Hotel and condo complex. The project is scheduled for completion sometime in 2009, meaning those Walk of Fame stars they tore up for the construction are going to be in cryogenic deep freeze for a while. [CurbedLA]

• Blackmen [YouTube]

· Music round-up: Wilco are at The Greek, The Like play Spaceland, and Nancy Wilson has Arsenio Hall hosting her birthday party at the Hollywood Bowl.
· "People magazine invites you to celebrate the birthday of the star of the new Lifetime Series: Side Order of Life!" The birthday boy? Jason Priestley. Tonight at Spago.
· The Egyptian is proud to present Favorite Boys' Shorts, all confiscated by police from the Michael Jackson memorabilia auction. (OK, easy joke. We apologize.)
· Robby Benson, TV director and 70s heartthrob (Ice Castles...sigh) reads and signs from his new book Who Stole the Funny?: A Novel of Hollywood. At Vroman's.
· 826LA's Book*Smart Nightclub series continues at Largo, featuring Julie Orringer, John Krasinski, and Aimee Mann.

Hypothesizing about what might have led Owen Wilson so far astray—and ultimately towards Sunday's blindsiding whinny for help—is no simple matter. As details emerge, the story only seems to grow darker; certainly having Courtney Love go on the glossy record about her concern over your heavy drug use does not bode well. Adding to the tragic circumstances was today's announcement that Wilson would be pulling out of Tropic Thunder, denying him a chance to once again play cocksure counterpoint to another tightly wound Ben Stiller comic creation. But before we start conjuring nightmarish scenarios in which Wilson permanently retreats from the public eye and into his shell, or worse, becomes a regular fixture on Tyra, let us turn to the comforting words of the only two men who can help us see the light at the end of this tunnel of despair—famed John Belushi-wrangler Bernie "Never Saw A Celebrity Tragedy I Couldn't Weigh In On In A Deadline-Friendly 25 Words Or Less" Brillstein, and Tom "Who the Fuck Cares What Tom Arnold Thinks About This?" Arnold: