With the possibility of a disastrous™ writers strike (or, a little later down the line, a combined writers/actors/directors one) looming, THR notes that agents are sweating through their Armani as they try to panic-book clients into any movie that might provide a pre-labor-Armageddon commission. (One needs to look no further than the Reporter's singling out of Jim Carrey, who's collecting roles like a homeless man whose next meal is dependent upon his ability to accumulate a shopping cart full of "good enough" aluminum cans, to see how dire the situation is becoming.) Now that much of the top-flight talent is either booked or sitting the next few months out, the THR piece offers some big names who are still looking for jobs:

The details of Us Weekly's new cover story, MY TWISTED NIGHT WITH BRIT, are so terrible that we can hardly bring ourselves to repeat them here. But repeat them we will: Succumbing once again to the exotic mental disorder that causes the total collapse of her superego and drives her towards the nearest sexually available background performer without concern for the consequences of her impulsive actions, Spears took an extra from her latest video shoot hostage, submerged him in a hot tub atop the Standard Hotel Downtown, and once the slab of man-meat was adequately tenderized by the jacuzzi's steaming waters, subjected him to a deranged, alcohol-fueled game of "look at my funny boobie tattoos, y'all, or I will end you."

Google, the search-engine Borg entity steadily injecting itself into every facet of your existence, has introduced two new features which should prove indispensable to fans looking for latest in free and easily accessible technologies with which to track their favorite celebrities. First, L.A. was one of four new cities outfitted today with the "Street View" option on Google Maps, giving users explorable 3-D photo environments that approximate the common celebutard experience of stumbling out of a West Hollywood nightclub in broad daylight, then trying to relocate one's towed vehicle despite suffering from an extremely distorted sense of depth perception.

Normally, issues of child development fall outside of the purview of this Internets WebLog (unless we're talking about the latest supermarket checkout line cry for help issued by Britney Spears' pre-literate children), but today's LAT story about a University of Washington study investigating the effectiveness of popular infant-education videos in actually producing baby geniuses caught our eye, mainly because of the radical alternate course of study proposed by the professor at the end of the article:

The New York cover story about former Bravo contestants contained a great many shocking revelations about life after reality TV—for example, that Project Runway's first winner Jay McCarroll is currently homeless* (we blame his McDonald's Archcards dress for Kelis), that the mystery of "Where's Andrae?" has finally been solved (he wound up back at Disney Hall, waiting tables), and that Runway Season 3 standout crackpot Vincent Libretti was last seen wandering naked near a Santa Monica laundromat, holding a placard warning passers-by to the impending "Blogspots Armageddon."

· Music round-up: Robbers on High Street at the Troubadour; Miranda Lee Richards at Largo; The Sweet Hurt at the Hotel Café.
· Kimberlee Auerbach, performance artist and former Fox News producer (working there seems like more than enough to drive someone to dabble in the occult) signs her memoir The Devil, The Lovers and Me: My Life in Tarot at Book Soup.
· The AFI Directors screening series hosts a showing of 2 Days in Paris at the ArcLight, which we're sure you'll be relieved to discover has nothing to do with Paris Hilton's brief foray in amateur adult films. Q&A to follow with writer/director/actor Julie Delpy and actor Adam Goldberg.

Justin "Dick in a Box" Timberlake and Beyoncé "Fistful of J-Hud's Hair" Knowles receive the greatest number of nominations for the upcoming MTV Video Music Awards, the nework's tribute to a once-vibrant art form long ago annhilated by 24-hour Real World/Road Rules Challenge and Yo Momma! marathons. [Yahoo News]

Free of Disney's killjoy, control-freak publicity department, Keith Richards can now admit that he actually did snort his dad's ashes. And he didn't even cut the paternal cremains with cocaine! Now that's a badass move. [NME]

It may already be too late to save Little Miss Sunshine's Abigail Breslin from a regrettable Fanningization by the Hollywood machine: "'The greatest thing about Abigail is that she takes direction,' the hunky actor [Aaron Eckhart], who plays a lovable chef, told us. 'She's so smart. She understands the whole script thematically. Most child actors can't do that. They just recite lines their parents recite with them in the hotel room.'" [Rush & Molloy, 2nd item]

We generally find that splashing Endeavor superagent Ari Emanuel's cherubic face across our humble homepage more than once a day is overkill, but circumstances demand that he make a second appearance on this lovely afternoon. In an e-mail we received with the subject line "Ari Emanuel Gives Back," we learned that the Man Upon Whom Jeremy Piven's Emmy-Winning Entourage Character Is At Least Partly Based graciously agreed to take some time off from handwriting thoughtful "It's not you, it's our commitment to representing those who make us more money than you" notes to recently fired clients to appear in front of a summer session class at UCLA, where the students begged their well-connected instructor for an audience with Hollywood's most recognizable ten-percenter. The press release follows:

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are posted several times a week, so send them in often. Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line so we don't lose them) and tell everyone about the time Winona Ryder graciously adopted the role of elevator-operator at the WeHo Target.

A wise man whose name we cannot recall once said, "There is absolutely no better time than right now to use the Defamer Job Board to free yourself from the tyranny of your current boss." (We will allow for the possibility that this message was recently whispered in our ear by a member the Job Board team. Even so, he's got a point.)

· Renee Zellweger will star with Viggo Mortensen and Ed Harris in the western Appaloosa, which we hope will provide ample opportunity for a spunky, bonnet-rocking Zellweger to fire a shotgun and exclaim, "You git outta my town, ya hear?" in the direction of the movie's "renegade rancher" antagonist. We love it when she does period gritty. [Variety]
· Fox's apocalypse-quickening reality TV guru Mike Darnell consolidates his power within the network by signing a new multiyear deal, officially giving him more autonomy to launch unscripted programming without the interference of other executives who believe that shows like Are You Smarter Than This Recent Massive Head Trauma Victim? might push the envelope a little too far. [THR]
· New Line's Russell Schwartz is ankling as the studio's head of marketing. We just hope that his replacement demonstrates a similar level of vision that will allow future, groundbreaking online promotions involving the performance of virtual cunnilingus on their movie heroes' wives. [Variety]
· Local news icon Hal Fishman, KTLA's anchor of more than 30 years, dies at 75. [THR]
· AMPAS is banning the mailing of For Your Consideration film score and song CDs, decreeing that the music needs to be evaluated in the context of the movie. Composers and studio music execs have begun the process of formally expressing their outrage, possibly by the mass burning of FYC screenplays in protest of the "out of context" principle that might limit voter access to their work. [Variety]

Judd Apatow on former roomie Adam Sandler's insistence on getting a peek at the future Lil' Mayor of Comedy: "'When we first moved in together, very early on he said, "Let me see your penis." I was like, "No! What do you want to see that for?" He's like, "I just want to know what I'm dealing with." He wasn't embarrassed about it... He would tell other people "Judd won't show me it, he won't show me it."

If you were under the impression that Charlie Sheen's recent betrothal meant that his ugly and very public divorce from Denise Richards was finalized, you'd be mistaken, as there are still a great many unresolved matters of asset division and child custody between the warring couple. There are also unlikely glimmers of reconciliation, however, as Sheen now claims he has documented proof that Richards wanted to conceive a third child with the actor even after she discovered the ugly, trampolining-cheerleader truth. From People.com:

Yesterday, Michael Bay made his much-anticipated cameo in the Phil Spector trial, taking the stand to dispute the defense team's theory that the director's alleged snubbing of Lana Clarkson at a Hollywood party drove the despondent actress to shoot herself in the home of a happy-go-lucky guy who loved to joke about how women "all deserve a bullet in their head." Court TV reports that while Bay was initially a little uncomfortable, it didn't take long for the director to break out some of the trademark, rapid-fire banter he always uses to lighten up any explosive spectacle he's involved with:

Following the "one for them, one for me" career strategy employed by more than a few talented Hollywood actors, Ryan Gosling's follow-up to Fracture is another modestly budgeted, indie character study: Lars and the Real Girl pairs the dreamy star of The Notebook with an inflatable love interest named Bianca, whom he repeatedly boasts to his family works as a "missionary."

While evil agenting monolith CAA has recently undertaken dramatic displays of appreciation for their high-earners (new motto: "Killing our clients very, very slowly with kindness since 2007"), their rivals at Endeavor are withdrawing their love from the names at the bottom of their roster. DHD's Nikki Finke reports that Ari Emanuel's ongoing crash client-diet should leave his agency 25% slimmer by the time their purge is complete:

The premise of porn studio Venom Digital Media's Paris & Nicole Go To Jail probably needs no further explanation, but on the off chance you're having a hard time fully grasping the ripped-from-the-celebrity-incarceration-headlines concept, here's the logline provided by the director: "[Paris & Nicole] find that life is different on the inside, and at first have trouble adapting, but soon learn how to get things in prison by becoming friendly with the warden, the guards, the inmates, things of that nature." What's more, Venom claims to have gone the extra mile by actually scripting the movie, which should allow for some priceless, timely dialogue; when "Nicole" tells "Paris" that she's "going to drive the wrong way on her pleasure freeway," fans of the real-life twosome's recent misadventures will know the filmmakers are making every effort to fully exploit their rich source material.