We really have to commend Sony Picture Home Entertainment for its well-executed, thoughtful marketing campaign for the Rocky Balboa DVD, an effort captured in this reader-submitted cameraphone photo of a garbage truck leaving the Fallbrook Mall in the Valley. Placing an ad for the unexpected mid-level hit on the side of a trash disposal vehicle is a subtle reminder of how the actor was callously discarded by a youth-obsessed film industry before making his triumphant half-comeback—an understated promotional choice made all the more impressive given the cheap stunts to which certain smaller studios will stoop in the name of raising awareness of their product.

· Music round-up: EL-P at the Troubadour, Midnight Movies at the Viper Room; Dustin O'Halloran at Hotel Café.
· It's a DNC/RNC deathmatch at the Gibson Amphitheatre! Watch as Terry McAuliffe, former Chairman of the Democratic National Committee, joins in likely fatal hand-to-hand combat with Ken Mehlman, 62nd Chairman of the Republican National Committee.
· Stephen Farber's Reel Talk series screens the new Adam Sandler drama vehicle Reign Over Me at the Wadsworth Theatre. Director Mike Binder will be in attendance to discuss the pressure of directing Sandler as the actor came off the critically lauded Click.

An anonymous little tipster-birdie just alerted us to the appearance of this Grey's Anatomy third-season* gag reel on the YouTubes, which we are more than happy to pass along despite being worth barely more than the kind of chuckle of recognition one might share while drunk on free wrap party booze with a coworker they've previously strangled. Towards the end of the clip, there's a cute bit featuring unofficial TR Knight bodyguard Katherine Heigl lightly satirizing the well-documented behind-the-scenes drama we've all had so much fun reading about over the preceding months, but it falls a little short of its mark due to Heigl's too-safe choice to replace the f-bomb we've learned to associate with the Grey's set with one that's an accepted part of routine tirades on virtually any TV production.

The GLAAD media awards, presented tonight in New York, have come under fire this year for a controversial policy that excludes gay media outlets, such as gay-targeted cable networks like Logo and Here, in favor of "mainstream" ones—amazingly, even networks with a majority of gay-themed programming, like Bravo and ESPN. Their reasoning is that those general interest networks go further towards furthering the gay agenda recognizing positive portrayals of gays and lesbians in the media. Never at a shortage of an opinion on anything, blogging Bravo exec Andy Cohen—whose network, purely coincidentally, is up for three awards—sees no problem with the policy:

A Defamer operative lucky to be alive following an encounter with tenuously sane and sober Promises escapee Britney Spears during her loose-toothed, Presbyterian pistol-whipping rampage through Los Angeles yesterday files this report about her harrowing forced imprisonment with the potentially dangerous pop-star menace:

· Pretty boy shingle fight! Warner Bros. and Leonardo DiCaprio's Appian Way defeat Paramount and Brad Pitt's Plan B for the rights to adapt upcoming autobiography The Wolf of Wall Street. The resulting project will allow for the continued collaboration of muse DiCaprio and master Martin Scorsese (is this whole thing creepy yet? Sort of, right?) at an undisclosed future point in the director's busy schedule. [Variety]
· Harry Potter stars Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson are officially signed to do the last two movies in the franchise, allowing all pervs to feel closure about our their long-held feelings about how hot a (totally legal!) Hermione was going to be by the end of the saga. [THR]
· Short on original programming to celebrate with cheerful posters that might distract their
employees from the drudgery of their half-network existence, The CW has instead decided to commission some artwork to enliven their workplace. Pictured: an installation placed near the development department entitled, "We Will Splatter Your Fucking Brains On Your Cubicle Wall If You Don't Start Coming Up With Some Show Ideas, And Fast." [Variety]
· Bill Clinton admits that TV Land is the only thing that can dull the pain of loneliness while Hils is out on the campaign trail. [THR]
· The cash-strapped, East Coasted Daytime Emmy-givers of NATAS announce that winners will have to pay $350 each for their statuettes if there's more than one recipient in their category, while its West Coast counterpart promises to reimburse any Emmy victors from its jurisdiction unlucky enough to get stuck with a bill from their cheap peers. [Variety]

A post-Promises Britney Spears has, rather inspiringly, chosen to throw herself right back into the swing of life, with every new morning filled with the possibilities of a productive, sober existence, refreshingly free of SUVs who taunt her until she has no choice but to silence them with enraged umbrella beatings. In between such wholesome activities as paying surprise visits to hip-hop dance classes and to the dentist for toothache treatment, Britney has also begun attending church services, where, according to an Extra press release, her overenthusiastic security detail went above and beyond to ensure a shutterbug-free worshipping experience:

Back on Wednesday, while we were waiting for all those Captivity billboards featuring Elisha Cuthbert's best work since those unauthorized Vegas escort handbills to come down as promised (how's that going, by the way?), we killed some time by speculating about the next AfterDark Films ad idea likely to draw totally unwanted and unanticipated attention to a small project with a limited promotional budget. Today, THR notes that the studio's lighthearted "Suicide, Don't Do It!" campaign for dark comedy Wristcutters: A Love Story, featuring awareness-raising signage displaying everyone's favorite acts of self-negation, has predictably run afoul of the the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. Publicity-shunning AfterDark CEO Courtney Solomon responds:

Having been forced to abandon his grand plans for LeprechaunWorld and Wet N' Wild: Bahrain because of a tragic lack of imagination on the part of his host nations, Michael Jackson is seeking to set up shop in the only place where no vision is deemed too ambitious to be realized: Las Vegas. Jackson is reportedly mulling both a Vegas show and the only kind of monument that can adequately celebrate his current levels of crazy: a 50-foot robot. With lasers! Reports Rush & Molloy:

As teased on Friday, the Anna Nicole Smith Autopsy Results Spectacular premiered today: Broward County medical examiner Dr. Joshua Perper concludes no foul play was involved, with the cause of death lying in the cumulative effect of no less than nine—count them, nine!—prescription drugs coursing her veins at the time of death, in addition to the "contributory causes" of a viral flu for which she refused to be treated, even when her temperature rose to 105°, and (courtesy warning for anyone currently eating) an abscess on her rear end, where she regularly injected herself with medication.

It's the last Monday in March and you think you've finally adjusted to daylight savings time. High five the guy in the cubicle to your right and reward yourself with a quick trip through the weekend box office numbers:

· GRAZERGATE: Current's killed. Martinez is out. The intro that never was. The tearful "what-ifs?"
· Lily Tomlin and David O. Russell fail to hug it out on the I Heart Huckabees set, but can laugh about it now.
· Phil Spector jury selection, with a questionnaire asking how much or little candidates love Ellen.
· Something continues to feel not quite right about Media Rights Capital.
· Offensive Billboardwatch: Damned if After Dark Films' Courtney Solomon knows how that offensive campaign got a greenlight. The countdown to decency is running late.
· Pax: Not the failed Christian TV network, but the orphan sensation!
· Joe Roth loves Julie Taymor's movie. He just took it upon himself to edit out all the artsy fartsy puppet bullshit that flies on Broadway.
· Lucky and Flo might pay the ultimate price for being great at their job.
· Sanjayamania grips a nation with a far more sadistic sense of humor than we ever gave them credit for, and in the process, a weepy bopper sensation is born.
· Britney free to do what she wants any old time.
· Aaron Sorkin will write Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, the Broadway musical, which could use as much Julie Taymor artsy fartsy puppet bullshit it can get right about now.
· Farewell, Bud.
· Chinese Theater Batman is arrested after being denied entrance into the crapcave.

· It's funny because it's true: no balls in this town get licked without the all-important conference call.
· Had enough of the 300 parodies yet? Yeah, neither have we.
· TMNT packs all of the pizza-chomping thrills of a Leni Riefenstahl film.
· While Batman is off taking a toke break, the Joker is is busy plotting his boner-related revenge.
· We swear, we were only kidding about Zsa Zsa Gabor's batshit husband getting back in to the Dannielynn Smith paternity sweepstakes.

While ABC 7's shocking news footage of yesterday's arrest depicts Hollywood Blvd.'s own Angry Batman as a hero consumed by picketer-taunting, cop-resisting rage, the Whip It Out Comedy blog remembers a time when a certain Chinese Theatre-haunting caped crusader was a more laid-back type, given to taking breaks from keeping his section of the Walk of Fame safe from fake villians by dipping into the stash in his utility belt and chilling out with some of his superfriends.

• Black20 Trailer Park: 300 - PG Version [YouTube]

Friday
· Music round-up: Elvis Perkins at the Echo; Sleepytime Gorilla Museum at the El Rey; Carina Round at the Hotel Café.
· Think Three's Company, but with Armstrong, Gyllenhaal, and Wooderson instead of Jack, Chrissy, and Janet: It's Three Campaneros at the UCB Theatre.
· OK, now think Jeopardy!, but with that guy who used to be on MTV, cold 40s, and pop culture: It's the Friday Forty with Dave Holmes at IO West.
Saturday
· More music: Elvis Perkins (again) at Largo; West Indian Girl at Spaceland; The Tragically Hip at the El Rey; TV's Marla Sokoloff performs to benefit the Pink Project at the Derby.
· Pit your Rochambeau skills to the test against the greatest rock hurlers/scissors smashers/paper cutter in the area at the Rock Paper Scissors Rumble at Explx. [via flavorpill]
Sunday
· Max Barry signs new novel Company at Book Soup, a story bound to make you feel like your own corporate drone job could use some fiction writers to spice things up.
· Tongue and Groove serves up short fiction, essays, poetry, and music at the Hotel Café.

The fitfully peaceful, tourist-clogged badlands in front of Grauman's Chinese Theatre were once again plunged into a state of superhero-induced lawlessness yesterday, when a frustrated Batman, momentarily abandoning his longtime mission of the avenging the downtrodden, angrily whipped off his cape, raised his bewinged gauntlets, and threatened to enact his trademark brand of vigilante justice upon the nefarious picketers who would deny him a long, satisfying BatDump. Reports ABC 7 (there's incredible video on their website as well) on the caped crusader's shocking arrest:

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) and let everyone know about Gwyneth Paltrow's passive aggressive way of saying that you and your kid are taking too much time at the candy counter.

Because we realize that there are only so many staplers hurled from the hand of a displeased boss one's skull can successfully withstand before call-rolling motor functions are impaired, we're happy to introduce the Defamer Job Board, a service to help you trade in that old, abusive model for a newer, shinier, and somewhat less violence-prone superior. Listing open positions costs just $25 for 30 days, and employers are encouraged—nay, strongly encouraged—to e-mail jobshelp AT gawker DOT com to request coupon codes to help them get started on the process of hiring the person who will eventually murder replace them. So delete those useless old UTA joblists (we hear they cause cancer) and tell the contacts you're wasting time pretending to like over happy hour cocktails to go fuck themselves, for career salvation is a mere mouseclick away.

We've often suspected Ryan Seacrest didn't exist at all—that the ubiquitous, blockheaded munchkin and budding media mogul was actually just a series of perfectly rendered holograms, projected by a billion-years-old, crystal-based alien society, and sent to sedate the species in anticipation of their impending, hostile descent. Just something to think about. Another topic for discussion: Is he a Gay? Certainly, the evidence would seem to point that way. Reasonably priced celebrity news source InTouch Weekly finally puts the question to you, internet citizens, with a poll that offers zero room for hedging or compromise (i.e. you can't vote "I don't know" or "I think he likes the pole and the hole!").