· The MTV Movie Awards are airing now on the East Coast. (9 p.m. for us.) If you haven't been invited to a viewing party, it's much too late—you're watching them alone. And don't look Jessica Alba's televised image in the eye—you're not worthy.
· America's Next Top Model just got some major competition in the reality show catfight department.
· See how the Butterscotch Stallion compares to Lightning McQueen, his Cars counterpart, as well as the rest of the cast of the big Pixar release. (We're digging Cheech Marin's Ramone.)
· The David Hasselhoff comeback is nigh. (And Gnarls Barkley is his inspiration! Who knew?)
· Popbitch teaches us something new: "'Shiloh Pitt' in Swedish translates as 'two pounds of cock'." (Fouth item.)
· And finally, an easy way to eBay your way to Miracle Pancake millions!

If there's ever a man to disprove your long-held hope that the older you get, the less you'll give a shit what other people think, it's 81-year-old A Prairie Home Companion director Robert Altman. On the eve of his movie's big opening, Altman nervously admits to still desperately needing the approval of his peers, despite the fact that most of them are already dead:

Any sympathy Lindsay Lohan amassed for herself or her maligned, ginger privates during the Brandon Davis Shitfaced Firecrotch Diatribe flap is evaporating, as press coverage has quickly abandoned the "victim" Lindsay persona for the vapid, stall-hopping, pre-Firecrotch era Lindsay. Take for instance her dream, shared in an upcoming Harper's Bizarre interview, of one day opening her own high-end fashion boutique:

· Thursday night music: The Roots with Talib Kweli and Blackalicious at the House of Blues on Sunset, Foreigner ("Hot Blooded," "Urgent," "Juke Box Hero," "I Want to Know What Love Is..." Do we need to go on?) is at the Roxy, and Opus Dai (no relation to The Da Vinci Code or self-flagellating albinos, to our knowledge) are at the Troubadour.
· The Duncan Miller Gallery is hosting an opening artist's reception for the new photography exhibit, "Icons of Rock," featuring portraits of all the biggies by famed rock photographers George Rose, Ethan Russell and Baron Wolman.
· The Music Center has Julie Taymor's directed vision of husband Elliot Goldenthal's Beowulf opera, Grendel. We hear King Hroðgar and Wealhþeow have been whoring it up at Privilege since the production hit town.

Feeling perhaps that $4.1 million was a tad high to pay for a few simple photographs of mother, father, and the Messianic product of a very non-immaculate conception, Angelina Jolie filled out her Chosen One media exclusive package by speaking approximately 4.1 million words on the subject to a reporter recently, as Keeper of the Sacred Seed, Brad Pitt, sat silently by her side. TMZ.com has video of the interview, which we imagine was immediately preceded by Jolie loudly inhaling air for 30 seconds. As for revelations, Jolie mentions she plans on celebrating (yes, celebrating. Got a problem with that?) World Refugee Day on June 20 right here in LA, exciting news for the local lame-limbed and frail. They need only figure out a way to avoid their security duty's sniper fire in order to get within the requisite 120-foot radius of the Chosen One's Malibu compound nursery, upon which they'll joyfully throw their crutches to the sand. (And unscrupulously choose later to hang onto their handicapped access parking tags.)

Someone or something has kidnapped the angry Spike Lee of yesteryear, and replaced him with lovable, huggy Spike, director of crowd-pleasing heist capers. The ongoing fuzzy-wuzzification of Lee shows no signs of slowing down, as he has been recently spotted doing time as Carrie Bradshaw's Cartier-loving girlfriend-in-crime:

Skankafarian Paris Hilton has—shocker!—managed to find yet another creative way to annoy and offend people, this time by pulling the Ratneresque move of parking her Mercedes SLR McLaren mobile whorestation in the handicapped spot of Matt Leinart's apartment complex:

· Congress passes a bill that raises indecency fines from $32,500 to $325,000 per infraction, causing Les Moonves to rethink his plans for a hilarious "teen orgy" Two and a Half Men sweeps week stunt. [Variety]
· Fox orders a script for a 24 movie from the show's creators, but holds out on a greenlight until after season 6 debuts. Fans rejoice, though the projectionists' union is already up in arms over the prospects of the 144 reels of film they'll be required to load for its proposed running time of 24 hours 7 minutes. [Variety]
· Everything following the first word from this Variety story about the World Cup airing on Univision ("Goooooooal!!!!!!!") was, quite frankly, an o- and !-deficient letdown. [Variety]
· Fox wins the week with So You Think You Can Dance?, a competition best enjoyed on a cocktail of Hydrocodones, Klonopins and vodka, and followed by a good, old fashioned Mama whuppin'. [THR]
· Steve Carell will return to the next season of The Office with his salary more than doubled to around $175,000 per episode, a shooting schedule that accomodates his various movie commitments, and on-call, personal manscaping services from a dutifully indebted Kevin Reilly. [THR]

Page Six has more details regarding the Jeremy Piven-Stephen Dorff Bathroom Line Smackdown at New York's Bungalow 8 club, this time from a "somewhat sober spy" who recollects a different scenario, in which the Piv came off less like his hot-headed, loose-cannon Ari Gold persona, and more like the cool-as-a-cucumber, "I can make your or break you" Ari, as touted in the series' online advertising campaign (featuring cutting-edge, Ari-bot technology!):

In today's NY Times, Sharon Waxman examines what the planned moves of rapidly expanding talent agencies CAA and ICM from Beverly Hills to Century City might mean for the Wilshire Boulevard Ten Percent Corridor they're leaving behind. While the subtraction of two major players from the neighborhood undoubtedly will make it more difficult for a struggling actor in the midst of a psychotic break to swerve onto a single sidewalk and collect representatives from all of the Big Five talent shops in the grill of his soon-to-be repossessed Hummer, the mini-exodus is also expected to have a profound impact on the local power-dining industry:

The mysterious government agency that assesses the suitability of Hollywood movies for screening in mainland China has made the unprecedented decision to pull an already authorized movie from theaters, depriving over a billion people from delighting in the summer's most Messiah-debunkingest adventure, The Da Vinci Code:

Life & Style magazine has once again met up in a dark corner of the Beverly Center parking structure with its trench-coated, fake-mustachioed, oversized-sunglassed informant from the Tom Cruise camp, who readily produced details on an alleged prenuptial agreement that would pay $3 million to Scientology war bride Katie Holmes for each year she is unable to break free of her imprisonment. Passes along The Scoop:

· Not for nothing, but if a seven-year-old Dakota Fanning was playing the spawn of the devil, no one would think twice about whether or not she could handle knowing the sinister truth about her character. We're just sayin'.
· More blogger fun with the Hello! Shiloh cover: Gallery of the Absurd does it in graphite and ink , while The Weekly Donut goes for old-fashioned glazed.
· Andy Dick might be slipping: Merely stinking of booze and smoking a joint is Dick on his best "brunch at Buckingham Palace" behavior.
· A columnist at the Charlotte Observer calls the Dianetics-sponsored NASCAR team "the weirdest sponsorship since Boudreaux's Butt Paste, the diaper-rash cream that began sponsoring a Busch Series car in 2005." Well said, and we hope he enjoys the lifetime of white van surveillance he's just opted into. [via Goldenfiddle]

While most celebrity media outlets were happy to concoct (and we to obligingly regurgitate) everything they needed to know about Britney Spears' new, mysterious male companion by merely staring at paparazzi photographs of the two and letting the romantic narrative in their heads take over ("He's pushing a stroller—he's her nanny! And he's cute! He's her Hunky Poppins man-lover!"), the tireless investigators at TMZ.com have actually done some legwork on the matter by locating and contacting the boy's mother, who was happy to clear up any fanciful misconceptions about her son:

Even the most jaded of locals can occasionally be jarred by the cognitive dissonance of seeing a man whose most indelible cinematic moment involved the discharge of an automatic weapon while under the influence of a wheelbarrow full of blow demonstrating an unexpected taste for bargain shopping:

· Music round-up: The Cat Empire and Quincy Coleman at The Troubadour; The Raconteurs at the Fonda (time to offer a sexual favor to a scalper); Ashlee Simpson featuring Her New Nose & The Backing Track Singers at the Greek.
· Author Tom Lutz talks about Doing Nothing: A History of Loafers, Loungers, Slackers, and Bums in America, a book whose title makes us feel vaguely depressed about how little we've done with our lives, with writer/curator Kristine McKenna at the Central Library.
· Mental Illness double feature! Tonight and tomorrow the New Beverly will show the documentaries The Devil and Daniel Johnston and Grey Gardens. [via Flavorpill]

Fans of obscure box office records will be delighted to learn that yesterday's demonically timed opening of The Omen shattered the 6-6-06 release record held by 1906's Dream of a Rarebit Fiend, as well as Ali's far less coveted all-time Tuesday mark, with a cutely misreported $12,633,666 gross. Reports Box Office Mojo:

In what had to be a difficult call for the AP's senior entertainment editor, the above headline beat out the equally compelling "Carla Gugino Craving Something Salty" for featured story status.

At an event to promote his new album at Tower Records yesterday, Are We There Yet? and Welcome Back, Kotter star Ice Cube shared a laugh with two deputies from the LA County Sherriff's office, obliging their request that he join them in a rousing rap-a-long to NWA classic "Fuck Tha Police." At first, things were slightly awkward as one of the unformed deputies had to teach Cube how to throw a gang sign while the other gently reminded him that there is actually no "er" at the end of the expletive contained in the "Ice Cube will swarm on any muthafucka in a blue uniform" lyric, but soon the joyful noise of onetime fearsome rapper and law enforcement joined in harmony filled the store, delighting dozens of patrons. Unfortunately, things turned suddenly chilly when one of the officers tried to pitch Cube his idea for a buddy comedy, a breach of Hollywood ettiquette that prompted the offended actor to mutter, "Send your script to my representation" and abruptly turn his attention to the next customer in the signing line.

Page Six has exclusively obtained script pages from the upcoming Entourage premiere, and today has published an outline of a pivotal scene from the episode. In this hilarious, slice-of-Hollywood-life outtake, Jeremy Piven's beloved, fast-talking agent character Ari angrily confronts onetime working actor Stephen Dorff for committing the unpardonable sin of cutting the bathroom line in a club without first offering to share his eight ball with everyone patiently waiting their turn for a stall trip. Cut to: INT. NIGHTCLUB HALLWAY—NIGHT