The Disney-obsessed MiceAge site is probably not where you'd expect to find the latest account of Lindsay Lohan's underage, drunken antics, but as it turns out, someone at Disneyland thought it would be a great idea to allow Lohan and her entourage to rampage through the Magic Kingdom and long-abandoned, possibly haunted California Adventure park to celebrate her 20th birthday. Lohan, of course, repaid Disney's hospitality by giving its Cast Members a firsthand demonstration of the craft for which she is best known:

What happened to the Jackie Chan we've come to love through the fine Rush Hour films, who so patiently and sweetly flashed that uncomprehending smile as Chris Tucker erupted in one of his high-pitched tirades expressing his frustration over their cultural and language barriers? That Chan would never get shitfaced and storm the stage at a concert. We feel so very betrayed. Hollywood eventually ruins them all.

· Pictured: At the Paris premiere of Over the Hedge, Bruce Willis was initially relieved that photographers finally wanted him to pose with a co-star other than the raccoon, but quickly became uneasy when a publicist explained to him that the French fans assembled at the event were demanding that he receive a handjob from Verne the turtle. Always the consummate pro, Willis gritted his teeth and submitted to a brief, yet vigorous, manual stimulation.
· We're all for the still-hot Sophia Loren getting naked, but a couple of old ladies taking off their clothes does not constitute a "mature pin-ups" trend.
· Jeremy Piven wants no part of your blunt, young punk, unless it contains some weed.
· If you ever think of giving us a gift, a Tom Cruise bobblecouch would be kind of perfect. Yes, that's a hint.

As if his life-altering run-in with a pink dildo-wielding lunatic weren't karmic payback enough, Girls Gone Wild visionary/rack-flashing videographer Joe Francis recently found himself on the receiving end of a punch to the face at a party in the Hills. The alleged assailant was an unidentified female partygoer, though the motives remain unknown. (We're thinking less violent, feminist Grrrl uprising, more, "Hey, you said if I showed you my tits and blew you, you'd introduce me to Leo!") In X17's video footage of the events immediately following the attack, a cavalry consisting of K-9 units and a firetruck arrive on the scene, as an outraged Francis points to his eye-level wounds and demands the woman and her companion be arrested. (We have no clue whether or not the assailants in question are the flustered, blonde duo scurrying away at the start of the video.) By the end, cooler heads prevail: Francis says to the gathered paparazzi that the event was "a misunderstanding," and drives off into the night. Never one to shy away from a golden guerrilla video opportunity, however, look for Francis' latest brainstorm, Girls Gone Wild: Fighting Mad to soon grace late night informercials, marrying the best of Gone Wild's drunken exhibitionism to the blood-and-bruise excitement of the burgeoning backyard wrestling and bum fight genres.

Variety reports that the dubloon-counters at Disney have overturned their Pirates of the Caribbean 2 treasure chest and shaken it until another $3.6 million fell out, pushing its record-breaking opening weekend take to $135.6 million. While we are facetiously excited that a balance sheet somewhere in the accounting department of a monolithic media corporation now contains a slightly larger number than it did this morning, we are genuinely enthused that we have been given this second opportunity to improve upon the unacceptably shoddy image of The Bruckaneer that we posted earlier today. Now we can go get drunk without that nagging feeling of having failed the Bruck's fans.

Alexander Payne's follow-up* to Sideways, I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry, is the Backdraft-meets-Boat Trip story of two firefighters who pretend to be a gay couple in order to receive domestic partner benefit. The fake firemen lovers in question are none other Adam Sandler and Kevin James, who, according to a Defamer operative, are either taking their field research very seriously, or just bouncy-shlong crazy and could care less who knows it:

· Critic Stephen Farber's Reel Talk screening presents Ed Burns' The Groomsmen tonight at the Wadsworth Theatre, with a special appearance by star Donal Logue.
· Music round-up: The Oohlahs at the Echo; LL Cool J at House of Blues; Monsters are Waiting and The Shys at the Troubadour; Pearl Jam at The Forum.
· Noted Jew for Magic Jesus Sarah Silverman and unspecified friends stir up some trouble at Largo.

The NY Times' Janet Maslin reviews The Man Who Heard Voices, the soon-to-be-released hagiography of oppressed, misunderstood auteur M. Night Shyamalan, who somehow survived a creative stoning by Disney Philistine Nina Jacobson and took passion project The Lady in the Water to the more nurturing executives at Warner Bros. We've already heard about Night's infamous Valentine's Day flaying at the the hands of Jacobson, but Maslin highlights a far more appalling indignity visited upon the auteur's loyal assistant:

Pervy Defamer sibling site Fleshbot points us to a particularly intriguing lot on eBay: An 8mm print of a vintage porn entitled "Barbra Streisand": In Hardcore, in which the winning bidder is promised an unobstructed view of the legend as only James Brolin (and Elliott Gould, and Ryan O'Neal, and Warren Beatty, and Jon Peters, and Don Johnson, and Andre Agassi, and Peter Jennings, etc...) has seen her before. And what will the privilege of owning such a piece of rare, full frontal Babsmobilia cost? Bidding starts at $250,000—pricey, yes, but as ticket buyers to Streisand's Farewell Comeback Tour already know, Streisand worship comes at a premium. The singer, meanwhile, has reportedly seen the film—rumors of its existence have dogged her for years—and flatly denies the generously beschnozed performer is her, once telling Playboy the proof is "when the camera zoomed in on her hands around the guy's you-know-what. There they were: short, stubby fingers!" Her evidence is indeed compelling—Streisand's digits are anything but short and stubby, as anyone who has ever witnessed the damage reaped by a single flick of her french manicured eagle talons already knows.

A scandalized reader supplies us with yet another shocking tale of an actor using his elevated status as Famous Person to secure preferential seating in a packed theater at the AMC Century City 15 multiplex. This time, professional raccoon escort Bruce Willis was the individual availing himself of the venue's "velvet tape" seat-saving amenities:

Any legal fracas involving Michael Jackson would be incomplete if it didn't quickly veer off into way-creepy territory, and the lawsuit brought against the entertainer by former business partner Marc Schaffel is no exception. Schaffel, a one-time gay porn producer, is suing Jackson for $3.8 million; during his testimony Friday, he blurted out something about Jackson putting in an order for some Brazilian orphans. Jackson's defense quickly denied the allegations, thought Fox 411's Roger Friedman claims there's a recording of the request:

If we were forced to identify the exact moment that Lindsay Lohan wanted us to believe chose to let the world know that she had finally conquered the narcotic bulimic demons that robbed her of her vaunted rack (whether or not the removal and/or restoral of her "curves" involved some body work in the Beverly Hills Monster Garage is currently the subject of much high-minded debate), we'd have to pick the Auto Show Nipple Slip, in which the starlet offered the assembled wire service photographers a generous helping of sideboob. But that occasion turned out to be nothing more than the teaser trailer for the summer blockbuster represented by Lohan's recent, extravagant, paparazzi-baiting displays of big-budget cleavage. Don't feel guilty or dirty about ogling—think of your bug-eyed fascination with her conspicuously bared flesh as empowering support for her continuing recovery from whatever plagued her last bikini season.

· We'd like to publicly thank Variety for coining the term "Bruckaneers," which conjures a pleasing, fitting image of the superproducer raping and pillaging his way through Hollywood. [Variety]
· Samuel L. Jackson will star in Doug Liman's sci-fi thriller Jumper, playing the role of "dogged agent pursuing protagonist" traditionally filled by Tommy Lee Jones. [THR]
· Pirates 2 takes in $46.6 million overseas in only 7
territories, a gross variously described as "boffo" and "socko." [Variety]
· The weird guy from Ally McBeal will join the cast of 24 next season, whom we imagine will make a suitably strange love interest for Chloe. [THR]
· A federal judge finds that CleanFlicks, Family Flix, CleanFilms and Play It Clean Video are not allowed to scrub out all the good parts of filthy/violent Hollywood fare and resell the sanitized product to crazy Puritans. [Variety]

If you're anything like us, you too are searching for any crumbs of explanation for what could have possibly come between two beloved TV personalities who once called each other friend, Star Jones and Rosie O'Donnell. NY Daily News JV Gossip Lloyd Grove thinks he may have some answers, singling out O'Donnell's May 12, 2004 appearance on The View as the day their mutual loudmouth lovefest went sour:

Today's Variety reports that New Gay Mafia (remember, the "mirth-making," not David Geffen, kind!) dons Jimmy Miller and Eric Gold, who manage seemingly every comedy star in Hollywood, are splitting up their management/production company. As with any divorce, we are concerned primarily with the fate of the children of their longtime union, custody of whom will be divvied up thusly:

In the absence of photographic evidence that would dispel rumors of Suri Cruise's possibly mythical status, TMZ.com does its part to prove her existence by digging into the public record and retrieving the suspiciously unseen infant's birth certificate. Unsurprisingly, not even the routine filing of a simple document could escape the weirdness that has dogged the Cruise camp since Suri's alleged conception, as TMZ reports that the birth certificate was filed 20 days after the birth, that the birth was officially certified by a "friend" (read: two-hundred-dollar-a-year Celebrity Centre gift shop clerk), not by Cruise or rent-to-own incubator Kate Holmes, and signed by a nurse who "was not in the delivery room and did not see the baby." Perhaps the most distressing of the certificate's irregularities is Tom Cruise's sole occupation of the "Father of Child" field, a selfish credit-hogging that ignores the tireless work of the team of dozens of genetic technicians and DNA donors that helped bring the Miracle Baby Project to fruition.

Take in the record! breaking! numbers! from this weekend, secretly pleased that your boss is in a meeting trying to figure out how to delay Tom Hanks' next project so they can get him into "something piratey" immediately.

· Okay, we'd all like to see the Miracle Baby now, please. No, not that one.
· A recap of all the nominees for the awards no one cares about. How about if they were naked?
· Is Aaron Spelling's Xanadu up for grabs?
· A bomb scare at the Scientology Center.
· Hilary Swank says it was Chad Lowe's unidentified substance abuse problem that got between them, not the whole "no career" thing.
· Kathy Griffin says it was Matt Moline's stealing out of her purse that got between them, not the whole "no balls" thing.
· Amanda Scheer Demme wants a piece of the roaming party, Xenii-type action.
· Publicists have an e-mail slap fight over who can best babysit Britney Spears.
· The battle for Brando's estate is a lot like his most recent movie.
· If baby got back, baby got a shot at being part of SoaP history.
· Canadians aren't so "nice" when it comes to SoaP movie promotions.
· You won't hear a word Brandon Routh says, because you'll be too focused on the absurdity of watching him demonstrate retarded pilates rope yoga.
· Pirates of the Caribbean 2 leaves some unfinished business for Pirates 3, which is already casting and looking for "exotic amputees." Send your headlessshots to Sande Alessi Casting.
· Michelle Rodriguez protests the war at her pit-licking peace-in.

· The Movie Blog/Paramount feud ends not with a bang, but with a high-ranking studio executive's whimper. Oh, well. Maybe there'll be bloodshed next time.
· Add psychotic subway power-saw attacks to the long list of things that NY does better than LA. But they'll never catch us in bizarre, tragic freeway accidents.
· A flood of annoying e-mails from the Save Marissa Campaign has earned a link to the website trying to get Mischa Barton her job back on The OC, but we have to admit we were kind of happy when they killed her off at the end of the season. We promise equal time to the Stay Dead, Coop! Campaign when they get organized.
· Contrary to what we originally believed, Schroder/Chojnacki is a video production company, not a disease that makes former child actors permanently resemble their 12-year-old selves.
· This is so cute it'll loosen your bowels. But in a good way.

Friday
· Music round-up: Bauhaus and Nine Inch Nails at Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre; Dios Malos at The Echo; Human Life Index at the Troubadour.
· The LA Philharmonic plays the scores to your favorite Looney Tunes at the Hollywood Bowl's "Bugs Bunny on Broadway" show. We imagine hearing the symphonic backing to "Kill the Wabbit" performed live as Elmer Fudd hurls lightning bolts at Bugs will be a transformative experience.
Saturday
· More music: DJ Z-Trip at the Canyon Club; Ska Cubano at downtown's California Plaza; Quintron and Miss Pussycat at Spaceland.
· MOCA picks Steve "Kid Millionaire" Aoki to DJ its Night Vision event in hopes of getting pictures of itself making out with hot hipster chicks on the Cobrasnake. [via flavorpill]
Sunday
· And still more music: Pearl Jam with Sonic Youth at The Forum; Mike Stinson at the Echo.
· The New Beverly does a Wachowski Brothers double-feature with V for Vendetta and The Matrix. (And yes, we know the Brothers didn't direct V [officially, anyway], so please hold those e-mails.)