· The Senate approves an indecency bill that would increase broadcast fines tenfold. According to precedent, the next time CBS decides to see if it can slip a teen orgy past the censors, it will cost them $30.6 million. And we don't even want to consider what a Super Bowl nipple-slip might cost in this brave new world. [Variety]
· The Reporter uncovers big news: Fewer broadcaster means fewer shows! Crazy shit, yo. [THR]
· Paramount renames its specialty division Paramount Vantage, which sounds more like a new plaque-fighting, tooth-whitening toothpaste than a movie studio to us. Then again, we were bound to be disappointed by anything other than John Lesher's House of Hugs. And no, we really never get tired of looking at that collage. [Variety]
· Casting, casting, casting: Rachel Weisz, Colin Firth, Ian McKellan and Susan Sarandon to star in the political thriller The Colossus, while Naomi Watts hooks up with Viggo Mortensen in David Cronenberg's Eastern Promises for Focus Features. [THR, THR]
· And in what will probably be the happiest news we hear all day, Conan O'Brien will host the Emmys again, after four year reprieve from awards show responsibilities. Can't wait for when Triumph invites Aaron Sorkin to join him for some crack and hookers backstage. [Variety]

Wherein we invite our heroic readers to penetrate the secret, underground lair of humpy E! gossip-supervillain Ted Casablanca and free his weekly blind item from its cruel imprisonment in a cage of inscrutable language. Today's offering explores the often suspicious relationship between celebs and the people who encourage the sweaty, straining stars to keeping pumping away until muscle failure, personal trainers. Fluff up One Squat-Ready Vice:

Director Ron Howard has always shown an aptitude at creating handsome-looking, unchallenging, middlebrow movies that satisfied critics and audiences alike. So it's not surprising that the overwhelming criticism launched at Howard and his Da Vinci Code, accusing him of not only execrating Christ's name, but of doing it in the most boring way imaginable, has weighed heavily on the affable people pleaser. With one eye on the bottom line of his opening weekend, Howard chucks his "reverse psychology" strategy of telling audiences to skip the movie, and tries the opposite approach:

Once again, the tabloid press has fallen for the clever tricks of the Charlie Sheen PR machine, which slyly seeks to reinforce the actor's alleged, All-American taste for the company of barely legal (legal being the operative word), spanky-panted pom-pom girls through the gossip column testimony of former enablers of his pigtail fetish .Says Page Six:

· At the upfronts, Les Moonves refers to trophy wife Julie Chen as his "peacock." Given his legendarily sadistic relationship with NBC, we think this gives us a pretty disturbing window into their marital relations.
· Lesser Baldwin brother Daniel could face 18 months in prison if convicted on cocaine charges. Adding insult to injury, his attorney told him that if he were Alec, he could get it down to 15 hours of community service and a "The More You Know" PSA on NBC.
· Once Heather Locklear finally snapped out of her divorce-induced haze and realized she was dating David Spade, the relationship was over just as quickly as she could order her assistant to text him and break the bad news.
· Reporter sets his phaser to lazy.

The web-enabled stalkerazzi at TMZ.com have just posted a photo gallery of Britney Spears' latest infant-vs-gravity "mishap," a brief near-fumble of Sean Preston, the toddler who seems doomed to be the most perpetually endangered offspring in celebritydom until Lindsay Lohan gives birth to a baby made entirely of cocaine. TMZ describes the scene thusly:

Tonight marks the end of the line for Will & Grace, and few could deny that it has succeeded in its eight-year mission to use the power of the double entendre to guide America towards a more tolerant climate for The Gays, and the gay-making activities they partake in behind closed doors. (Decorating, brunching, mercilessly sassing each other, etc...) Nikki Finke's Deadline Hollywood recalls the upfronts when the pilot was first presented to advertisers, which was artfully edited to remove any reference to Will's homosexuality. "It was only when I walked out of the presentation and went to the NBC after-party that I learned that Jack wasn't the only gay character," she writes. (Which leads us to question Finke's gaydar calibration: C'mon, now...McCormack??) Talking to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, Will himself corroborates her story:

· Music round-up: Alice in Chains ('Layne Staley 4 ever," says the patch on our favorite flannel shirt) at the Roxy; Missing Persons at the House of Blues; Rise Against (night three of five) at The Troubadour.
· Journalist Michael Walker signs Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of Rock-And-Roll's Legendary Neighborhood at Book Soup. The title's pretty much got this one covered.
· At UCLA's Royce Hall, the Hollywood Symphony Orchestra performs various film themes and other classical pieces that you vaguely recognize only as the background music from some of your favorite movies.

Who can we invade to ensure that everyone, no matter their country of residence, has the freedom to gather together in their local house of cinematic worship and laugh inappropriately at the most anticipated work of Ron Howard-helmed blasphemy since A Beautiful Mind? It seems clear to us that no civilized society should be denied that most basic of human rights.

The Recidivism blog noticed the unexpected appearance (and did the featured Photoshop labels) of a Zoolander billboard in the just-released trailer for Paramount's World Trade Center. The noted juxtaposition of evil and Paramount entertainment product aside, the sign adds an authentic, date-appropriate touch to the shadow of a doomed plane flashing across the building's facade; perhaps once the studio gauges viewer sensitivity about the importance of accuracy in embedded promotional messages, they can digitally alter the billboard to advertise more timely fare, such as upcoming theatrical releases or the DVD launch of M:i:III.

Project Runway dandy and Andrae-whereabouts inquisitor Tim Gunn blogs up a storm on his little corner of the BravoTV.com universe, with his most recent entry devoting an economical 25,000 words to the auditions for the show's third season. Like his on-screen persona, his effete prose is packed with delightful flourishes ("I was anticipating The Great Santino, full of boisterous bravura..."), and offers Runway junkies a taste of what's to come—and what isn't:

Our operatives' ongoing attempts to chronicle the comings and goings of former Are You Hot? host Lorenzo Lamas once again merit attention in a special feature, which we've temporarily christened Hollywood LamasWatch for the duration of this item in honor of the gloriously maned, syndicated renegade:

· Fox plays it safe by returning 16 series to its fall line-up, adding just three new dramas, two new comedies, and a late night talk show. And The OC stays put on Thursdays at 9, with the network confident that since its fans still seem to be sticking around just because they remember how great it was the first season, they probably won't be lured away by Grey's Anatomy. [Variety]
· Kirsten Dunst is in negotiations to join Jack Black in Michael Gondry's Be Kind Rewind. You know, the one about the guy who erases all the tapes in a video store, and then he and his pals reshoot all the movies a nice old lady wants to rent so he doesn't get fired? That one. (Still sounds kind of awesome, actually.) [THR]
· The new MGM sets a December 22nd release date for Rocky Balboa. Look for the reborn studio to take full advantage of the date with a holiday-themed promotional blitz, including a Las Vegas boxing match in which Sylvester Stallone barely triumphs (he has to have both eyelids cut open halfway through to continue) over Santa Claus in a three-round exhibition. [Variety]
· Sony bravely chooses to continue on with its Da Vinci release plans despite the laughs and hisses of some critics at Cannes. [THR]
· Four words: Vin Diesel romantic comedy. And no, he's not going to star opposite a duck, though we'd probably find that chemistry more convincing than the one they try to cultivate with some brave actress. [Variety]

Another contentious film is set to premiere at Cannes tomorrow night, though the religious suppositions challenged in Fast Food Nation—a fictionalized movie starring Ethan Hawke based on the non-fiction best seller—are about America's blind worship of fast food behemoth chains and their conveniently numbered combo menus. And while the industry's deeply vested interests haven't rallied a counterattack to match the scale of that of Da Vinci's devout detractors, as the WSJ reports, they still don't plan on letting Nation premiere without a fight:

When NBC's Kevin Reilly made a bold move in the chess match that is this week's fall schedule announcements at the upfronts by advancing his most beloved pawn, Aaron Sorkin's Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, into the 9 p.m. Thursday night slot, ABC's Steve McPherson responded by picking up his queen, Grey's Anatomy, and tossing it into Reilly's face. NBC hasn't officially retreated, but the LAT's Scott Collins blogs that some think that Reilly may ultimately concede the position to the competition:

There is no more effective way of catching pesky, flittering celebrities than with the irresistible honey-trap of the gifting suite. With many stars in town for upfronts, shopping magazine Lucky set up "The Lucky Club" at the New York Ritz Carlton, and, not surprisingly, the famous dutifully lined up for their turn at the complimentary luxury goods soup kitchen. A round-up:
· Britney Spears bounced her bobbleheaded baby, Sean "Wrong Way" Preston, on her hip as she stacked up on "$5,000 worth of track jackets and polos - size XXL," items she presumably fantasized would make for a dramatic tumble from a top floor window when she finally kicks Kevin Federline out of the house. [NY Daily News]
· Mischa Barton perused the L.A.M.B. table: "'I like this. I have that,' Offered a pair of size 6 shorts, Barton didn't bother to try them on. 'They'll probably fit. I'm such a lazy shopper.'" There's a certain harmonious, zen comfort to be derived from knowing Barton shops like she acts like she lives. [NY Daily News]
· Notorious germaphobe Howie Mandel, who browsed with one of Deal or No Deal's fembots, commented that one of the best parts of gifting suites is not having "to handle cash." He then spent an hour at the Louis Vuitton display doing what he does best, pointing at various pieces of luggage and asking his companion to open them for him. [NY Post]

America's Most Suspicious Couple has taken the next step in trying to convince the world that Katie Holmes that the Miracle Baby actually spent some quality time in her reproductive system. It's been exactly a month since the little bundle of maternal imprisonment arrived, and while we still have no photographic evidence of the infant, we've now been treated to the sight of Holmes' suddenly curvy postpartum figure and these new, completely accidental candid photos of what appear to be stretch marks. The conspiracy-minded might leap to the conclusion that this is some sort of false stomach constructed by Hollywood's most talented latex effects artists, but we think they favored a more low-tech approach, wherein Holmes laid bare belly-down on a shag carpet for the two hours before their latest, Suri-less foray into public.

Perhaps not realizing that being a bigshot Hollywood director is an even more reliable way to take advantage of women desperate for a taste of fame than a career snapping pictures of women with no clothes on, guy-who-sits-behind-a-monitor-on- a-movie-set-and-occasionally-mutters-to- no-one-in-particular—that-he'll-fix-it-in-editing Brett Ratner mused to the NY Daily News about a possible side career in the naked lady photographic arts:

· You make the call: Whom should we be more pissed off at, the careless publicist who spoiled The OC finale or the bitter star who went on TV to spoil it? PS—Don't follow that link if you don't want to suffer the same spoiler disappointment we did.
· And don't watch this video if you don't want tonight's Lost ruined (OK, fake-ruined) for you as well.
· This is the Tony Danza Code. We think you already know what you're in for with this one.
· Isaac Hayes reproduces, quietly. Just the way we like it.
· God, we really need this right about now: Hey, unicorns!

Even studio executives whose blockbusters seem(ed) like sure things have had their confidence shaken by the M:i:III disappointment™ and Poseidon bed-shitting®, terrified by the prospect that any given Monday could feature a dreaded trip to The Grill for their public humiliation lunch special. A key to minimizing the pain of any regrettable box office shortfall is not getting your corporate boss' hopes up: