· Music round-up: Powerman 5000 at the Whiskey; JJ Grey & Mofro at the Knitting Factory; Monsters are Waiting at Safari Sam's.
· Music + Comedy = Musicomedy! Or the significantly less unwieldy Jam Session, with musical comedy acts like Hard N' Phirm, Al Madrigal, and Dos Spanish Flies, tonight at the Improv.
· An extremely ill-advised (and possibly drug-fueled) OnDemand rental of My Super Ex-Girlfriend temporarily made us forget the Meatballs/Stripes/Ghostbusters part of Ivan Reitman's resume. Anyway, we've finally forgiven him for that late-career abomination (we're big that way), so we note he's screening Duck Soup at the Skirball.

It's not quite the CLOONEY PLACES MILLION DOLLAR BOUNTY ON HEAD OF REAL RUSSELL VIDEO LEAK we were hoping for, but still, not bad.

The theatrical release of David Arquette's The Tripper is soon upon us, the first horror movie to our knowledge to feature a Ronald Reagan-impersonating ax murderer (not counting 1953's criminally overlooked Bloodbath For Bonzo). As a low-budget horror producer without joint access to his far more successful wife's bank account, Arquette is always on the lookout for creative viral marketing ploys that cost no more than the price of four quickly pounded Cape Cods: Behold, then, this remarkable feat of bladder-relieving chirography made available on the movie's MySpace page, in which Arquette scrawls the title upon a New Orleans sidewalk in one fell piss. It's an admirable example of out-of-the-pants promotional thinking, made all the more impressive by the knowledge that Arquette is simultaneously contributing his small part to the re-beautification of areas hit hardest by Hurricane Katrina.

Ahoy, job seekers! Remember when we introduced you to the brand-spanking-new Defamer Job Board, our attempt to speed along your slow march to eventual Hollywood domination? Of course you do. From time to time, we'll be spotlighting some of the listings. Just like this:

Because we at Defamer realize that it's important that individuals disenfranchised by the mainstream media be given a forum in which to make their voices heard, we're happy to publish this missive sent to us by publicist-to-the-stars Stan Rosenfield on behalf of e-mailing-eschewing client George Clooney, who is eager to deny the rumors that he had something to do with the leaking of those I Heart Huckabees outtakes that have so delighted everyone in Hollywood over the past week or so. Forwards Rosenfield/writes Clooney:

· After a brief stall for undisclosed legal reasons, the Bahamian inquest into the death of Daniel Smith is finally under way, with a jury of seven women selected to determine the circumstances surrounding the death that started it all. 40 witnesses are set to testify, including Stern, Birkhead, and hospital staff members who reportedly witnessed Howard K. Stern flushing methadone down a toilet soon after Daniel's body was discovered. It remains to be seen how an all-female jury might influence the proceedings, though we doubt they could get any more emotional during the verdict-reading than Judge Seidlin did. [CourtTV]
· A new theory about Anna Nicole's death (because it's still so easy to shoot holes in that whole "nine drugs in her system" one) was that she caffeined herself to death. More specifically, the combination of the antibiotic Cipro and tons of caffeinated soda in her system gave her intense insomnia, leading her to overdose on sleep-aid chloral hydrate. Take heed, Britney Spears: Coke's sweet syrupy release can potentially be deadly. [Fox911]

· CAA takes the first steps in building ice-cold new client's Jim Carrey confidence back up, working to book him in the easy comedy gig Me Time, in which he'd play a put-upon, Mr. Mom-style househusband. [Variety]
· Newly minted Oscar winner Jennifer Hudson is in talks for her next acting gig, the ensemble Winged Creatures, which already has a cast including Forest Whitaker, Guy Pearce, Jackie Earle Haley, and Dakota Fanning, with whom Hudson is expected to have daily diva confrontations that even her Dreamgirls experience with Beyonce won't have prepared her for. [THR]
· Helen Mirren takes some time off from demanding, Oscar-worthy performances to go slumming in National Treasure: The Book of Secrets as the MILF who gave birth to Nicolas Cage. [Variety]
· The world needs more movies inspired by guys named Tebucky. [THR]
· Variety salutes Scary Hollywood Lawyers! All your favorites are here: Bert Fields! Marty Singer! That Skip Guy! [Variety]

Thanks to a daring act of espionage that involved a fearless undercover TV-beat reporter smuggling out a microfilm document containing top secret details of the already-hyped, potential Grey's Anatomy spin-off in a body cavity even ABC's ever-vigilant security guards dared not inspect as the suspiciously tense spy exited their headquarters, the LAT can now reveal the plot of next Fall's surefire smash hit, the tentatively titled Dr. Addison and the Health Co-Op Stocked With Predictably Quirky Characters:

Inspired by the above story of two teenage Saw fans whose mischief is bringing a fresh wave of attention to the hugely successful horror franchise, always-innovative AfterDark CEO Courtney Solomon is scrambling to organize Captivity "phone teams" to call middle-aged women in poor health in key markets, hoping that mysterious messages that their daughters have been kidnapped and tortured by a maniac might induce the same kind of publicity-attracting cerebrovascular episodes that might raise awareness for his little abduction flick.

These have been sad days indeed for the dedicated fans of Studio 60, multiple Emmy-winner Aaron Sorkin's unflinching look into the dark soul of late night sketch comedy programming: As the still-healing scars on the underside of our forearm representing each squandered Monday night that's passed without a new installment of the series so vividly remind us, Studio was indefinitely removed from NBC's primetime schedule, a torturously undefined hiatus that has spawned irresponsible, internets-type rumors that the network has held the pillow of cancellation tightly on the face of its slumbering beloved, ending their doomed, if fitfully passionate, partnership without producing the rest of its planned first-season episodes. Not so! (the exact words follow) says THR's Ray Richmond, who's been assured that Sorkin and company are hard at work even as we speak:

· In the new Us Weekly: Learn how duplicitous dissociative identity disorder sufferer Angelina Jolie copes with her disease when her nurturing Stay at Home Angelina and selfish, careerist I Must Accept This Acting Gig On The Other Side Of the World Angie personalities get in a catfight!
· In tangentially related news, Scott Weiland's wife blames her bipolarity for her recent wardrobe-torching outburst. Next up: An impulse orphan buy she immediately regrets.
· P. Diddy admits crippling Snoop addiction.
· A famous Nazi assassin's descendant fears that Cruise is going to turn his new Hitler-hunting movie into a secret Scientology infomercial.
· God giveth cute, and He also taketh it away.

Why should you care about the spread of poisonous, thumbnail-sized jellyfish in Australian coastal waters, which, at worst, threaten to sting to death a couple thousand beachgoers on the other side of the world? Well, what if those tiny invaders also managed to shut down a Hollywood production that was set to reignite the sizzling chemistry of beloved screen staples Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughey? Then, perhaps, you'd begin to grasp the scope of the ecological disaster at hand:

Hollywood Elsewhere has reposted a "wrap poem" penned by an anonymous Transformers "inside operator" who apparently was so overjoyed by the job visionary filmmaker Michael Bay did with the project that he was inspired to express his elation in verse, a work that was originally posted to (and then quickly removed from) an unnamed "certain website," but which was saved by a helpful cut-and-pasting web archivist and has been subsequently popping up in inboxes (including ours, more than once) all over town.

· Music round-up: The Mars Volta at the Ventura Theater, The Lady Tigra at Spaceland, The Locust (with Cattle Decapitation!) at the Knitting Factory; Anya Marina at the Hotel Cafe.
· Former Spy editor (the funny years) Kurt Andersen reads from new novel Heyday at Santa Monica's Barnes and Noble.
· Go documentary double-feature crazy with the Academy's screenings of The Death of Kevin Carter: Casualty of the Bang Bang Club and Kordavision, tonight at AMPAS's Linwood Dunn Theater.

The Learning Annex's traveling "Real Estate and Wealth Expo" stopped by the Toronto Convention Center recently, where citizens eagerly shelled out however many Loonies were required of them in order to gain an audience with The Pope of Classiness himself, Donald Trump. Some mischievous locals couldn't resist tampering with the billboards, however, turning them into proposals and public declarations of love for the object of his lusty, fat pig affections, Rosie O'Donnell. (A pairing we've long fantasized about.) In other self-whoring news, Trump has just announced he will be putting perhaps his most recognizable asset on the line in the name of publicity charity:

In the interest of achieving some measure of closure following the scare that necessitated a hasty evacuation of E!'s Wilshire Boulevard headquarters and temporarily brought the celebrity-fellating broadcasting giant to its already-bruised knees, we share the reassuring e-mail note awaiting the network's refugees upon their safe return to their cubicles:

After weathering a flatly written exchange in which Aniston's lesbian character tells Cox, "This is no way to live! You don't deserve to be alone," (oh, the bitter irony), then some innuendo about past dalliances between the characters (four implied times!), and one brushed off ass-grab (easy there, lesbian tiger), we finally get the kiss: A closed mouth cutaway unlikely to moisten the panties of even the show's most incontinent viewers. Have a look, trying not to sigh too loudly over this squandered opportunity to exploit ten seasons' worth of crackling, Sapphic sexual tension.

· Forest Whitaker will put his Oscar-winning talents to the ultimate test by trying to match acting chops with Monosyllabic Method master Keanu Reeves in The Night Watchman. [Variety]
· Professional badass Ray Winstone reportedly signs up to play Harrison Ford's sidekick in the upcoming Indy 4. [THR]
· Paramount promotes Austin Powers second unit guy Marco Schnabel to full-fledged director on Mike Myers' new funny-talking-guru film, perhaps hoping that a trusted, familiar face will keep the actor from freaking out and abandoning the project after a week of shooting. [Variety]
· Jason Alexander takes a role in one of the roughly 6,000 comedy projects ABC has developed this pilot season. (It's about a wacky police station, if you must know.) [THR]
· Oprah anoints Amazing Race creators Bert Van Munster and Elise Doganieri as showrunners for her upcoming reality project, Oprah Winfrey's The Big Give, in which TV's infinitely generous demigod will hand do-gooders a pile of money and challenge them to use it in a way that properly reflects Her beneficence. [Variety]

Lost in the multiple earlier reports of Ryan Seacrest's thrilling, Aston Martin-aided escape from the bomb-threatened E! headquarters a little while ago (there is little doubt that the Idol producers would have been happy to see the whole building reduced to smoldering rubble if that meant their host made his rehearsal on time) is the fact that rank-and-file employees were apparently evacuated without incident (and without the benefit of luxurious escape pods). A reader submits this photo of the impromptu refugee camp forming in the office building's courtyard, which we're told will soon form a provisional government that will immediately dispatch foragers to cross Wilshire Boulevard and obtain food from the Koo Koo Roo before they're all forced to result to cannibalism.

Trailblazing celebrity orphan collector Mia Farrow has co-penned a scathing op-ed in the WSJ with her son (currently available to subscribers only). Titled "The 'Genocide Olympics,'" it lambastes 2008 Olympics host China for "pouring billions of dollars into Sudan," where a horrific genocide continues in the Darfur region. (George Clooney and Brad Pitt have been begging you to care about this for ages now. Was anybody listening?) Most shocking of all, Farrow targets Steven Spielberg, whom she has the—chutzpah, we believe is the appropriate term here—to liken to Adolph Hitler's right-hand helmer, Leni Riefenstahl: