The less we say to set up Elephant Larry's video birthday card to Bruce Willis (what, you forgot to send him something?) the better, but after watching it, we're left with the uncomfortable feeling that his agents over at CAA may be a little unhealthily obsessed with numerology. Maybe they like to mix up the usual, boring Satanist human sacrifice approach to representation with a little harmless number-play for certain high-profile clients, just to keep things fresh.

· John Wells Productions will house the Writers Co-Op, an all-star collective of high-priced screenwriters (David Benioff, Rob Bass, Scott Frank, and a cast of teens) who are willing to sacrifice huge bags of upfront money in exchange for greater creative control over their work and better profit participation. As part of the Co-Op's deal with Warner Bros., these top scribes will receive first-dollar gross, get to be involved as producers on their films, and, should their scripts be put into production, each will be provided with a unicorn that poops out nuggets of 24-carat gold on which to ride during the shoot, majestic steeds that will remind everyone on set of the writer's crucial role in the moviemaking process. [Variety]
· The Gersh Agency makes a bold move into sports representation by opening a baseball division. But before you get too excited, realize that their initial client list includes David Dellucci, Luis Ayala, and Brett Tomko, none of whom will likely be taken in the early rounds of your fantasy draft. [THR]
· Leading fauxteur Michael Bay will explore the possibilities of blowing shit up...five years in the future! Who knows what unnecessary explosion technology will be available to us half a decade hence? [Variety]
· Little Children's Best Supporting Self-Emasculating Child Molester nominee Jackie Earle Haley rides his newfound Oscar heat to three new projects: the Will Ferrell comedy Semi-Pro, the ensemble drama Winged Creatures, and indie drama Bolden!. [THR]
· Cool Hand Luke director Stuart Rosenberg to bet God that even He can't eat fifty hard-boiled eggs, finally settling a theological dilemma that's torn apart the Church for the last forty years. [Variety]

Following Kim Masters' Wednesday Slate story on the clever methods Endeavor used to bend Universal over a log and pump away until the studio promised to cough up over $42 million for the rights to Sacha Baron Cohen's Bruno before Borat had seen a single box office dollar, shadowy firm Media Rights Capital suddenly finds itself the hottest possibly talent-agency-controlled financing puppet regime in town. While waiting for a photographer to show up to shoot them for an upcoming People spread on Hollywood's most in-demand maverick financiers, MRC partners Asif Satchu and Mordecai Wiczyk (above) took some time to chat with the NY Times about how the $400 million in investment capital available to their (totally independent, thanks for asking!) company is a negotiating cudgel that any agency, not just Endeavor, can use use to bludgeon the studios into favorable deals for their clients:

Jury selection gets underway today for the Phil Spector murder trial, the visonary pop music producer (for the youngsters: he was the Timbaland of the 1960s!), who, in 2003, talked C-movie actress and House of Blues hostess Lana Clarkson into coming back with him to Pyrenees Castle, his French-château-inspired estate in Alhambra. Hours later, Clarkson would be found dead of a gunshot to the mouth:

We don't know how or why these two utterly amazing clips of Lily Tomlin and David O. Russell, the headlockingest, Clooney-feudingest director in all of Hollywoodland, sharing a couple of very special moments on the set of I Heart Huckabees (video whose existence on the talent agency tape-swapping black market we first heard about in a Sharon Waxman NY Times piece in 2004—more on that later) have suddenly surfaced on the YouTubes, but here they are, giving us all a taste of the existential cockfight that the Huckabees shoot seems to have been.

As you grab your head, trying to fight back the waves of nausea still lingering after Saturday's debauchery long enough to remember where you buried that leprechaun's body—hey, he looked like a leprechaun after that tenth whiskey—take a few moments to review the weekend box office numbers. They'll fix you right up. They always do.

· Pax Thien: Signed, delivered, renamed: He's hers.
· CAA controls the universe.
· The Bruno math doesn't add up, leading some to wonder if Media Rights Capital isn't just an anagram of "Endeavor."
· New Line's Bob Shaye wishes Brett Ratner would get off the phone, and Jackie Chan just wishes he'd move aside.
· Add some Hollywood pizzazz to your puppy training routine with the Brian Grazer-edited LAT!
· Sylvester Stallone busted Down Under with 48 vials of human growth hormone.
· The Week in Idol: Mario Vazquez caught with his pants down. The worst thing you will ever see. Paula likes Simon. Ryan likes pumps.
· Anna Nicole DramatizationMania! The Law & Order: Criminial Intent episode and indie movie take.
· Britney's rehab loves: Riva and cola.
· Aspen Ski Patrol's finest rescue three sub-A-list actors, as predicted by 20th century gay porn oracle.
· Richard Jeni kills himself, and Chris Rock remembers (to plug his new movie).
· Mike Tollin and Brian Robbins go their separate, crappy-comedy-making ways.
· Tori Spelling gains a son and gains a mother.
· Lindsay Lohan's alive and well, mowing down paparazzi in Manhattan.
· Another entertaining chapter to the Big Book of Wasted Kiefer Sutherland Run-Ins.

· Local Cleveland newsbimbo mauled by vicious housepet!
· Amazingly, TV networks aren't anxious to run this Casey Affleck PETA ad graphically showing the torture of the delicious animals served at the eating establishments of their other sponsors.
· Angelina Jolie AdoptionTracker: the thank-you note! (Which may or may not have been pinned to a bag containing a two million dollars "donation".)
· In the next Scriptland column: Frustrated screenwriters who turn to violence.
· John Travolta considers petitioning Scientology elders for permission to use the still-experimental baby-fabricating technology responsible for Suri Cruise to impregnate his 44-year-old wife.

Thumbing his or her nose at a Draconian tidiness initiative announced earlier today at Paramount, a Defamer operative sends along this memo declaring March Clean Up Your Fucking Mess, What, Were You Born In A Barn Or Something? Month over on the Melrose lot:

• I was on American Idol (feat. Blake Lewis) [YouTube]

Friday
· Music round-up: Clipse at the El Rey; The Zombies at the Henry Fonda; The Jane Doe's at Hotel Cafe.
· Selected HuffPo bloggers (famous and semi-famous ones!) will join the performers from The Beastly Bombing in a lively panel discussion about Politics and Comedy in Post 9-1-1 Era following a performance of the bastard opera at the Steve Allen Theater.
· Atone in advance for the culture-eroding debauchery of tomorrow by partaking in a 50th anniversary celebration of the publication of On the Road, including a live performance by Sonic Youth, at Beyond Baroque in Venice.
Saturday
· Sure, you could be vomiting up green beer behind Tom Bergin's to celebrate your 1/10 Irish heritage on St. Patty's Day, but there are open houses at various Chinatown galleries to hit instead.
· More music: The Presets at the Echo; Ollin at Spaceland; Killswitch Engage at the HOB.
· The Dirtiest Sketch in LA Contest throws a "Best Of" showcase of its filthiest moments at the UCB Theatre, featuring an all-star cast of Matt Besser, Matt Walsh, and a small army of other pervs.
Sunday
· Cuckolded magicians! Disfiguring Molotov cocktails! It's The Bilingual Lover at the Egyptian.
· And a little more music: Street Dogs at the Troubadour; Movie Star Kiss at Spaceland.

You might think that a person who's made a living as a comedienne might have a sense of humor about making an unauthorized cameo as a part-time janitor in an adult bookstore on a popular primetime cartoon series, but, of course, you would be so very, very wrong. A lawsuit filed yesterday reveals that Carol Burnett is suing Fox for the impressive variety of slights Family Guy writers managed to cram into a throwaway gag that lasts just a few seconds—they're nothing if not ruthlessly efficient in their kitchen-sink approach to comedy—on a recent episode of the series, like the misappropriation of her Charwoman character (kids, ask your grandparents!) and her show's theme song, and for turning her signature ear-tugging into something predictably filthy. The cost of Family Guy's "Hey, look, it's Carol Burnett cleaning up after some messy onanists!" bit, if her lawyers get what they want? Over $6 million. Please take a moment to review the above clip of the episode to be better informed about the offenses cited in this explosive legal proceeding.

PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are submitted by our readers, and are posted several times a week, so send them often—but please pull over if you plan on Blackberrying them from the road. Submit yours to tips[AT]defamer.com (please put "sighting" or "PrivacyWatch" in the subject line) and let everyone know about the time you saw David "Dookie Drawers" Spade having brunch.

Join us in bowing down in worship before the thirty-foot tall marshmallow idol we've erected in honor of this week's sponsoring deities, which we plan on devouring to induce a debilitating sugar-seizure in just a few moments. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer and elevate your product or service to godlike popularity, see this page.

· A stunning reform movement sweeps the Academy of TV Arts & Sciences! Two new Emmy rules have been introduced: The "Lost" Rule, in which potential nominees must provide an up to 250 word essay describing what the hell their show is about to assist lazy Academy staffers in the nomination process, and The Ellen Burstyn Rule, requiring that actors must have appeared in at least 5 percent of a given program to be eligible for awards immortality. [Variety]
· Steven Spielberg is shacking up with Showtime, developing the comedy The United States of Tara, concerning the Weeds-style seriocomic adventures of a suburban housewife afflicted with multiple personality disorder. The leading role is described as "a potential tour de force" for the lucky actress ultimately selected for play the one-woman ensemble. [Variety]
· New Line announces it will remake Escape from New York with star Gerard Butler, an actor so red-hot off 300's huge opening weekend that he has now earned the chance to pick up Kurt Russell's sloppy seconds. [THR]
· Var's Peter Bart weighs in on the Great Critics Vs. Crap-Craving Moviegoers War of Early 2007, suggesting the reviewers are so weary after their losing battles with 300, Norbit, Wild Hogs, and Ghost Rider that they might need to take a vacation until September, when more artiscally minded product finally surfaces. [Variety]

We never thought we'd see a food-sculpture tribute to Anna Nicole Smith more moving than that of Banana Nicole, who lived her life like a Chiquita in the wind, and was peeled much too soon. But now BoingBoint points us to an Anna Nicole (and baby Dannielynn!) constructed entirely out of everyone's favorite edible hatchlings, Peeps. Surround it with a bouquet of spring flowers for an Anna Nicole-themed Easter dinner centerpiece your guests will be talking about for months, then thrill the youngsters by ambushing them in a bunny suit and clown makeup during the backyard methadone hunt.

We've been waiting for the perfect moment to share the above, stunning, reader-supplied fan art depicting the CAA Death Star turning its particle cannons on ICM's inferior new headquarters (please notice the wonderful grace notes of the tiny Kevin Huvane and Jeff Berg photos adorning their respective fortresses), and given this morning's various reports on the evil agenting monolith's latest strides toward Hollywood hegemony, we might as well put it up now.

It's difficult to imagine how anyone who experienced even a modicum of affection or encouragement in their youth could possibly want to become a Hollywood assistant, a vocation that marries the least gratifying job requirements of a telemarketer and animal control officer. Alas, the temptation to become a dry-cleaning-fetching cog in the machine proves irresistible to many, and some are willing to go so far as to pay for the opportunity: Canadian businessman Iaroslav Jivov alleges he paid Peter Bogdanovich $100,000 to hire his son as his assistant. He's now suing the director for accepting the money without living up to his end of the bargain, having not so much as thrown a single improperly prepared Starbucks latte into his son's face:

Details about every virtually moment of press-shy orphan collector Angelina Jolie's ("Photographs and press coverage will make him upset. I'm very worried about that. I would like to say I'm sorry for bringing this into Pax's life," she recently wept into a tape recorder, lamenting that there was no television camera nearby to more fully document her visible distress) trip to Vietnam to pick up her latest toddler acquisition continue to flood the media, with orphanage officials willing to go on the record about the Orphan Formerly Known as Pham Quang Sang's earliest moments as an official member of the Jolie clan. Here, one describes how some harmless subterfuge was used to coax the child into a large burlap sack held by Pax Thien's new mom to complete the adoption process:

We know that we dashed off a quick link about this on the way out the door early last night, but we feel it's our sacred responsibility to briefly revisit the matter if that helps one of America's most beloved, if criminally underemployed, entertainers unbury himself from underneath the avalanche of prematurely delivered condolence cards and sympathetic flower arrangements that the false Wikipedia report of his death has generated: Sinbad is still alive! Unfortunately, the brief controversy forced the actor to reveal a stunning secret that we've long suspected: that he is, in fact, Jesus. "Saturday I rose from the dead and then died again," He told the AP in a phone interview. Those uncomfortable with His unexpected revelation of divinity should feel free to believe that it might have been a Sinbad sound-a-like who spoke to the news organization, a coping strategy that should help untold millions maintain the beautiful mystery provided by the inherent uncertainty of true faith.