· In Touch scores an interview with some people who were drinking with Mel Gibson at Malibu restaurant Moonshadows before his DUI bust, as well as some photos of Gibson draped over his new best friends.
· The LAT publishes Gibson's mugshot, but doesn't he look a little too happy for a guy being thrown in the drunk tank by this sugar-titted, possibly Semitic oppressors?
· More! Mel! As it turns out, Gibson's Jew detector was better calibrated than previously revealed, as his arresting officer turns out to be Jewish.
· How did Mel get so nutty?
· Arianna Huffington picks up where her HuffPo blogger Ari Emanuel left off, suggesting that Gibson's agent should dump him as a client. Guess he's also not getting an invite to join the Huffington blogging family.
· The LA Weekly's Nikki Finke interviews the founder of the Simon Wiesenthal Center, who is not exactly ready to set up a Mel Gibson wing in the Museum of Tolerance.
· Junkiness pauses to recognizes Mel Gibson's fine body of work.
· Barbara Walters says she's through with Mel Gibson movies, though we imagine she'll secretly still watch Thunderdome once in a while.
· The Daily Gut offers the Gibson Guide on How to Address a Female Police Officer, which yields such scrumptious delights as "Toffee Snatch" and "Marzipan Twat."

You have to admire CNN.com's Law Center's ability to dispense with all that high-minded "fact-based impartiality" the other legal news outlets so stubbornly cling to, and instead decide to sauce up a story about a disgraced, gay British pop star from the 1980s (no, not that one) with a headline so bitchy, it's practically pointing and cackling. It's a potent illustration of karmic payback, reminding us that even the most respected of CNN headline writers were once just impressionable youngsters, who never forgot when passionate fan correspondences to their cross-dressing musical heroes received nothing in return but a coldly worded form letter outlining how they could join the Karma Chameleons Fan Club for just $19.95.

While our Solomon-like Google Adsense bots offered embattled Mel Gibson several options for getting his life together, it seemed inevitable that he would ultimately choose the time-honored method of waiting out a public relations crisis in the comfort of rehab. A few weeks hence, Gibson will reemerge from his celebrity time-out a refreshed and more outwardly tolerant star, and this unpleasant driving-while-under-the-influence-of-anti-Semitic-devil-water business will seem like nothing more than a bad memory implanted in his brain by the Jews who run Hollywood.

· Music round-up: Beth Orton at Avalon; Alexi Murdoch at the Troubadour; Corinne Bailey Rae at the House of Blues on Sunset; Darker My Love at Spaceland.
· Stephen Farber's Reel Talk series screens World Trade Center at the Wadsworth Theater, with producers Michael Shamberg and Stacy Sher on hand to reassure you that the movie you've just seen is in no way exploitative of a national tragedy. But if that sounds a little heavy for you, the Academy's "Great to be Nominated" event has the sunnier Cabaret at their Samuel Goldwyn Theater.
· At the "Kids in Showbiz: Young Actors' Dreams to Reality" panel at the Writers Store, find out how to turn your boring, juice-box-consuming six-year-old into a Dakota Fanning-style money-printing machine. It's easier than you think!

We weren't able to make it to the House of Blues last night to catch reformed former child star Corey Feldman usher in his 35th birthday by taking the stage with his band, Corey Feldman's Truth Movement. A Defamer reader literally stumbled upon a pair of tickets, however, and sent us a full report, including surprise, Z-list guest appearances, and an explosive climax featuring multiple giant breasts and plenty of silly, stringy fun:

If you were a filmmaker involved in a barroom brawl that resulted in your being arrested on third-degree assault and fourth-degree sexual assault charges, you really couldn't have wished for a better weekend for such embarrassing shenanigans to occur. While Mel Gibson distracted the media with his tequila-enabled thoughts on sugar-titted law enforcement officials (and that somewhat less quotable stuff about Jews and wars) , The House of Sand and Fog director Vadim Perelman found himself accused of alcohol-fueled fisticuffs and unwelcome assgrabbery in Norwalk, Connecticut. Reports Greenwich Time The Advocate, Norwalk Edition:

Remember when Endeavor superagent Ari Emanuel called for a industry boycott of Mel Gibson by saying, "There are times in history when standing up against bigotry and racism is more important than money." Good times, as they say. Over at Slate, Kim Masters has found at least one person in this town willing to opt for forgiveness over a symbolic stand against the drunk-drivingest, Jew-blamingest star in Hollywood:

Until now, upcoming Bond installment Casino Royale's greatest obstacle—aside from a script by Paul Haggis—was the new Bond himself, Daniel Craig, who seemed doomed from the start to weather the emasculating taunts of the British tabloid press. But now the production has come against a foe far greater than a Bond with uncharacteristically fair coloring and an inability to drive stick: A freak chain reaction has resulted in the studio containing all the Bond sets to burn to the ground.

Nicole Kidman to joins the cast of The Golden Compass, the first installment of the His Dark Materials trilogy, as the "villainous and glamorous Mrs. Coulter." There is no mention of Mel Gibson's recent anti-Semitic remarks in this totally unrelated story. [Variety]
Bryan Singer signs a seven-figure TV deal with ABC to develop three scripts, one of which is guaranteed to go to pilot. Again, there is no Mel Gibson angle to this story that we can discern. [THR]
Paramount Pictures buys the comedy pitch The Donor from Jon Stewart's Busboy Productions as a starring vehicle for the Daily Show's Rob Corddry. The logline is being kept top secret, but go ahead and assume it has something to do with a guy who embarks on a hilarious quest to sells his internal organs on the black market. [Variety]
Jessica Biel joins Adam Sandler and Kevin James in their "two straight schlubs get gay married for health benefits" comedy I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry. If you guessed she'll be playing the hot chick who eventually falls for Adam Sandler, consider an exciting career as a casting agent. [THR]

Lindsay Lohan should be thanking her lucky sugar tits, as her collapse on the set of Georgia Rule and subsequent public flogging by the movie's producer have come to seem like sweet-natured career missteps in comparison to other recent, alcohol-related events. THR reported over the weekend that Lohan was back at work the next day, greeted by cast and crew with the awkward presentation of a half-melted ice cream cake reading "Welcome Back From Your Prompt Dehydration Recovery, Li[unintelligible]." Ultimate Cool Party Mom Dina Lohan, meanwhile, railed at Robinson in an Access Hollywood interview for unfairly assailing her frail, asthma-suffering, 19-year-old daughter. (Lohan turned 20 on July 2.)

Taking to heart the Hollywood maxim that "All that is required for the triumph of drunken, anti-Semitic movie star evil is that good superagents do nothing," Endeavor icon Ari Emanuel is using his platform over at the Huffington Post to rally the entertainment industry to take a principled stand against Mel Gibson:

The first round of media analysis of How Mel Gibson's Anti-Semitic Tirade Will Affect His Career has arrived, with nearly everyone agreeing that Gibson's capping of his DUI arrest by accusing the "fucking Jews" of being "responsible for all the wars in the world" could possibly have some sort of undetermined negative impact on his future ability to make movies, or on the box office prospects of Apocalypto, his upcoming, Mayan-language adventure flick whose dialogue must now be scoured for hate speech cleverly masked by the Yucatec dialect. (Zero Wolf: "The tribal elders have selected you for human sacrifice. Please report to the altar atop the sacred pyramid in one hour to accept your fate." Jaguar Paw: "You go tell those fucking Jews to kiss my ass. I own this fucking jungle, sugar tits.") A round-up of early analyses and reactions:

Enjoy the box office numbers, the comforting bottle of tequila riding shotgun on your drunken, high-speed, anti-Semitic thrill ride through Malibu:

We're willing to bet that when news of Mel Gibson's DUI bust in Malibu early Friday became public later that day, the still-hungover actor probably had no idea that he would soon remember that initial report of his arrest as one of the happier, more carefree moments of his recent life. Since then, the simple story of "celebrity ingests too much alcohol, drives automobile too fast, and gets semi-embarrassing slap on the wrist from law enforcement officials of rich beach community" has become one of "celebrity ingests too much alcohol, drives automobile too fast, tries to run away from law enforcement officials attempting to give him semi-embarrassing slap on the wrist, is easily recaptured by law enforcement officials, threatens to commit act of sexual aggression against law enforcement officials, claims to own the rich beach community which employs law enforcement officials, promises to use vast financial resources to gain revenge upon law enforcement officials [Ed.note—Deep breath, here come the good parts], expresses belief that people of the Jewish faith are responsible for entirety of armed global conflict, tries to ascertain if law enforcement officials are members of the Jewish faith, notices presence of female law enforcement official, refers to female law enforcement official by epithet suggesting that her mammaries are made of sugar, pantomimes intention to urinate on floor of holding cell, and attempts to destroy malfunctioning phone when it fails to provide a dial tone for his legally mandated post-arrest call."

· The Week in Lohan: Modeling her fleshkini at Jeremy Piven's birthday. The collapse and ensuing DehydrationGate. Retracing her steps. Putting it all into perspective. And, finally: The Letter.
· ICM ingests Broder Webb Chervin Silbermann, and firings follow.
· Dessarae Bradford beats the drum loudly for wronged, celebrity-stalking crazy ladies everywhere. Colin Farrell, meanwhile, has a whole new reason to be looking over his shoulder.
· Lance Bass shocker: Sitcom in development! We should have seen the signs.
· $180 million grossing Crash still trying to recoup its $7.5 million investment.
· The Top Model writers bring in the big guns.
· Ellen Pompeo skips dessert. And the meal.
· We'd like to nominate Entourage's gay eunuch to play Aquaman.
· Two Emmy voting scandals, and you still won't care.
· Shmuger hearts Linde.
· Brad and Angelina's little wax-pooping angel preserved forever.

· The WOW Report is all over Lindsay Lohan's next move should that angry letter from her producer hurt her future career prospects.
· The Franklin Avenue blog discovers what happens when Lost's producers get sloppy with the details: they have Hurley shrug it off. Sometimes a washing machine is just a washing machine, and not a Hanso Foundation conspiracy to drive people in the hatch crazy.
· AP entertainment editor writes headline, "Movie Prompts Barrymore to Take Up Poker," retrieves loaded revolver from desk drawer, blows brains out.
· More "Lance Bass used to pretend to be straight" hilarity: Giggle knowingly as Sharon Osbourne watches Bass shower and tries to set him up with her daughter.
· For that special lady in your life, Gawker's "Hot Piece of Twat" t-shirt.

Friday
· The inaugural Independent TV Festival kicks off tonight at Raleigh Studios, with screenings and panel discussions on every aspect of indie TV production. Be sure to check out the Q&A with the cast and creators of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, including the marvelous little person who dons a Danny DeVito suit every week and amazes with his spot-on impression.
· Open bar alert! Equator Books is celebrating its second birthday with bands, free booze, and Michael Deyermond's latest exhibit of works on paper.
Saturday
· Saturday night music: Irving and Say Hi To Your Mom are at The Echo, Sparta is at the Troubadour, and LA's own Midnight Movies play with Darker My Love at the Little Radio warehouses.
· GOOD magazine is hosting a freebie screening of An Inconvenient Truth at at The Museum of Television & Radio, followed by an "iChat" with Al Gore, which is, like, totally going directly into our "Chats with Ex-Vice Presidents" playlist.
· Go to Meltdown Comics for a book signing and reception for The History of Los Angeles Graffiti Art. Many of the artists will be in attendance, and will happily oblige any requests to tag your lower back.
Sunday
· Fake Radio performs a stripped down, abridged version of Sunset Boulevard which may or may not open with a down-on-his-luck screenwriter lying face down in an inflatable kiddie pool.
· The 30th Annual Festival of the Chariots at Venice Beach is that time of the year when Hare Krishnas, festooned in the finest peach leisurewear, can really let their hair down. Lyrically repetitive entertainment and a "free feast for thousands" will be provided.

It took Owen "The Butterscotch Stallion" a week to formulate a response to Steely Dan's accusation that the actor was currently starring in a movie whose premise was lifted from one of their songs (and the thinly veiled threat of violence at the hands of a certain Russian associate of the band), but The Stallion, always a peaceful sort, finally chose to diffuse the tension with his shaggy-maned sense of humor:

We haven't been able to get too geeked up about The Transformers, especially after the letdown of the movie's Transformer-less teaser trailer, but our gearhead brothers over at Jalopnik are ready to bust a lugnut after they received some photos of a truck allegedly being used in the movie that were taken over on La Brea and Wilshire. To the untrained eye, it might seem indistinguishable from any other vehicle, save the embossed Autobot logo on the rear tailgate. But startled onlookers were convinced of its authenticity when the truck suddenly lurched to life, and in a beautiful, mechanical ballet of pistons and hidden hinges, converted itself into the form of a Russian hooker, who quickly joined director Michael Bay in his waiting Ferrari and sped off into the city.

Because no Friday in Hollywood could feel complete with just a single report of layoffs snuck in before executives happy to still have their jobs slink off for the weekend, we pass along this note from a reader lamenting the end of an era at Paramount, the studio that seems to get itchy if it doesn't pink-slip a few employees every couple of weeks or so: