When we think of a singles' party, we often imagine a lot of desperate girls and boys clawing at a few attractive souls for a last-minute fuck. At last night's "Meet Market" party, sponsored by the NY Post, this wasn't exactly the case — we didn't see a single couple making out! Perhaps the event was too classy for some darkened-corner ass-grabbing, but we thought with all the free vodka being splashed about that we'd get some action. Instead, we got belligerent and went home not with a warm body, but with a kickass gift bag. Special correspondent Jennifer Carlson reports, since Krucoff and yours truly can't remember much.

—“Besides, some of the tabloids keep trying to say they’re getting back together again –—which they’re not. So, if they’re photographed together in Venice, that will just be fuel for the fire — unless they snub each other, which, of course, then causes a whole new type of story.” Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman are swallowed up in a classic gossip Catch-22. You know, just like when Tom Cruise is seen out in public with a man.
—The hilarious bitches at Go Fug Yourself claim another high-waisted victim.
—Holy fucking shit: The Passion of the Christ sells 4.1 million DVDs in a single day.
—The rundown of Late Late Show guest hosts: Michael Ian Black, DL Hughley, Amy Sedaris, and Jim Rome. Hire everybody! Hire nobody! We're still watching Conan.

—Star magazine paid people $20 bucks to spy on the Olsen Twins in the bathroom? If we're giving up an Andrew Jackson, we'd better get back a zip-loc bag full of vomit or at least what's left of their eight-ball. But we suppose that's just another one of those differences between bloggers and the mainstream media.
—Paris Hilton's head touched Christina Aguilera's shoulder at a VMA afterparty, nearly opening up a skank vortex that sucked in Carson Daly's penis. Nearly. Sigh.
—Charlize Theron certainly dead: According to her publicist, the actress suffered "no cuts, no broken bones" from an on-set injury while shooting Aeon Flux.
—Jewel-juggling sister site Fleshbot gives a sneak peak of "DC Sex Blogger" Jessica "Washingtonienne" Cutler's Playboy spread. [NSFW]

1. Reminisce about the days before AHWOSG made Dave Eggers the unstoppable publishing juggernaut/ubiquitous literary mega-celeb he is today, as Eggers presents and signs Created in Darkness by Troubled Americans: The Best of McSweeney’s Humor Category 1998–2003 tonight at Book Soup. Maybe you can even ask him what it was like to sit by as a genuinely offended Janeane Garofalo tried to explain the Eggers legacy to decidedly less ironic fellow autobiographer Joe "Joey Pants" Pantoliano on Dinner for Five.
2. Phil Collins is the next ironic guilty pleasure just waiting to be ruined by The O.C. No? The Postal Service recently covered “Against All Odds.” Why not go hear the original live and watch as Phil rocks some serious "Sussudio" at the Staples Center tonight? Jacket totally fucking required!
3. Grab one of those rave kids and threaten to withhold their X and lollipops unless they can tell you the difference between techno and house music at the BPM Magazine release party at Pearl (and featuring Photek).

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com and let Jeremy Piven know that even though he plays a dick agent on Entourage, you're pretty certain he's not quite as bad while having a cup of coffee in Santa Monica.

—We honestly don't care if you've seen this before, where it came from, or if it's a fake. (Probably.) Go ahead, try and stop us from linking to it. Oops, you couldn't.
—The Day in Lindsay Lohan: Lindsay nearly killed inside the Love Bug, but survives only to face annihilation by Tara Reid in a fight for Paris Hilton's affection. Say what? [via Thighs Wide Shut]
—First Britney fails to wed at the VMAs, then pulls a no-show at her own charity event. This time she's gone too far! Those kids aren't going to learn how steal baby-daddys and court dangerous public bathroom infections all by themselves! [scroll halfway down page]
—Singer Laura Branigan dies. The funeral will be shown Friday on VH-1, with moving eulogies by Michael Ian Black and Hal Sparks.
—Dave Matthews Band PoopGate rages on: DMB offers DNA to solve RV BM SNAFU.

1. Atone for doubting the box-office clout of Hero (OK, maybe that was just us) and catch the epic on a proper screen at the Vista Theater.
2. Didn't get enough of Usher and Kanye West last night at the VMAs, when they were shown on screen every fifteen seconds? Then catch them at the Staples Center. Tickets are still available. Of course, if you really want to hear "Yeah," you could always just stick your head out the window and wait for the first Hummer to roll by.
3. All broken up that Craig Kilborn has abandoned you in your hour of talk show need? Catch the Greg Proops Chat Show at Largo.

Defamer checked out the opening of Hollywood Hell House at the Steve Allen Theater Saturday night to experience some good, clean, fundamentalist Christian scare-tactics as reinterpreted by some heathen Hollywood troublemakers. Our brief photo-essay follows. The vignettes are presented out of chronological order so that we don't spoil the House's surprises for anyone who wants to see graphic depictions of what awaits their sinning souls in the afterlife. Also, since this is a family-oriented blog, we're saving the (extremely) gory photos for ourselves.

↑ Vincent Gallo reveals his past in gay prostitution. We are so not surprised.
↑ We bribe Ted Leo, Sasha Frere-Jones, Eric Gillin, Jardine Libaire, and Adam Perry Lang into talking to us.
↑ Crack is so very, very back!
↑ The New York Times can barely control itself when it comes to popular porn books.
↑ Time reporter Matthew Cooper escapes orders of being in contempt of court, thanks to a man named "Scooter."
↑ New York mag takes the guesswork out of comprehending the convention with their special issue.
↑ Charles Isherwood and Steve Reddicliffe are hired at the Times for theater and television, respectively.
↑ Michael Musto shows us a thing or two.
↑ Not only is Captain Morgan running for president, but he'll also give you a ride to the Hamptons!
↓ The New York Times declares Williamsburg to be dead, because the Times always knows what's in and out.
↓ Everyone's writing books about Star's darling Bonnie Fuller.
↓ We don't just hate Philippe Starck because he's eurotrash; he's bad for unions, too!
↓ Holly Dunlap is still alive and kicking — but, at the rate she's drinking, we figure she'll fall and get a concussion any day now.
↓ The Republicans are coming to our sex clubs. Is nothing sacred?!
↓ 'WaPo' managing editor Steve Coll has fled the building.
↓ Maxim starts its own date-rape service.
↓ Donald Trump's online business school can make a mockery out of you, too!
↓ Stroke Julian Casablancas has a deluded admirer! Surprising, indeed!
↓ Paris Hilton gets fucked, again, but this time it's Burger King.

—We can all rest easy knowing that Scrubs star/celeb blogger Zach Braff isn't a Scientologist. "Garden State focuses on a character that was incorrectly prescribed some very serious medication at a young age and never had the opportunity to find a way or reason to come off them. He also quits cold turkey which is something you should NEVER do! I completely support medicine when it's needed."
—Indeed, we did hear that the new Apprentice cast has profiles on Friendster. Alas, the dictates of good taste limit us to one Friendster-related post per day.
—Low Culture offers the nation's headline writers some new ideas for covering The Brown Bunny.
—Former members of the Crüe (Tommy Lee and Vince Neil) opt for reality shows instead of suicide. Did they make the right call? Only time will tell.

Allow us to execute this brief "shout out" to this week's sponsors, who make this fine, Hollywood-obsessed weblog product possible. Want to support the cause? More here.

Friday
1. Get your mope on at the Curiosa Festival. Better get to the Rite Aid or beauty supply store before there's a run on white Robert Smith face powder.
Saturday
2. This weekend Los Angeles’ Hell House opens to the public, featuring a rotating cast including David Cross, Bill Maher, Traci Lords, Sarah Silverman, and (many) more. Go and see the vivid illustrations of why you heathens will one day marinate in the saucy flames of Hades. (No, Botox is not an damnable offense, but Uggs certainly are.)
3. Watch artists from around the world gather for Chalk Fest 2004, where they draw on and around the stars in Hollywood Boulevard and puddles of homeless people’s urine. Kids can participate in their own chalk area for a $7 donation! (Kiddie urine puddles should be self-supplied.)
Sunday
4. Rock the Right, because it’s almost been a full whole day since we’ve had an anti-Bush concert. Truthfully, isn't that way too long?
5. Make sure Dave Matthews takes his shit with him after he plays the Home Depot Center.

—"This will probably be the last edition until they come up with a new technology that will just beam us directly into your home and for $75 you get me and [co-star Jason] Mewes dancing and saying ‘Snootch to the Bootch!’" he added. "And you can probably do that with Ben Affleck too, star of Jersey Girl, if sh*t doesn’t turn around soon.”
—Scarlett Johansson's deeply, deeply troubling and misguided Daddy complex, starring the bloated John Travolta.
—Easily the funniest thing we've read all day, courtesy of geek-ass sister blog Gizmodo.
—The completely useless website of useless Queer Eye culture homo Jai Rodriguez. [via NewYorkish]
—Tom Leykis gets kicked in the head. Your first reaction is that it's a gang of women, but your first reaction is wrong.
—Low Culture has the "outline" for Tina Fey's latest script, about "[a] Hasidic Jew and a grizzled rock musician [who] form a band.
—Olympic swimming stud Michael Phelps totally hearts Lindsay Lohan, but we're pretty sure their training methods aren't compatible. [fifth item]

In case you haven't noticed, Gawker s Team Party Crash will go just about anywhere that advertises free drinks. Last night we tested our mettle at the Park Avenue Country Club for NY Times reporter Warren St. John s Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer book party. (Try saying that title five times really fast on your fourth SoCo and Coke — THAT WE PAID FOR, ahem) In a shrew bit of planning, Warren St. John's book party was also billed as an alumni event for Southeastern Conference colleges. In other words, frat party. After the jump, Gawker Special Correspondent Andrew Krucoff and staff photographer Eliot Shepard get too drunk to report.

1. Get tips from a pro at the Jenna Jameson booking signing for How to Make Love Like A Porn Star at Book Soup. You might want to save anything involving extra partners or complicated acronyms for a special occasion.
2. Recapture the excitement of the early days of your relationship, when you had to play along with classy things like "Mozart Under the Stars" at the Hollywood Bowl to get some action.
3. Impress your partner with the famous people you know by bringing them to DJ Jazzy Jeff’s party at Cinespace. Try to look convincingly disappointed when your "good pal" Will Smith bails on the event.
4. Take your partner to a period movie with a healthy helping of hot, bodice-ripping sex: The ArcLight screens Dangerous Liaisons followed by a Q&A with producer Hank Moonjean.

Sightings are provided by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.

Hello, it's Gawker HQ here. New Gawkette Jessica will be slightly tardy today, as she lives within that small zone of Manhattan that's experiencing Time Warner internet outage. Oh, did I say small zone? I mean from Wall Street to 125th Street, apparently. At least we can see how well Manhattan's infrastructure is prepared for the onslaught of 90,000 big-haired Republicans in the next few days.

—Either a very good reason to burn down the Beverly Center or to splash a liberal amount of Clorox in your eyes: Fez kissing Lindsay. We warned you. [via witz.org]
—Hollywood Second Acts Dept: Paul Pfeiffer, Esq. [via Thighs Wide Shut]
—Vincent Gallo whines about the "bad publicity" surrounding his blowjob movie, thereby perpetuating The Brown Bunny's seemingly endless bad publicity loop.
—Sometimes the lede's more than enough: Marc Anthony needs you to know that the kid isn't his.
—Does Britney even own shoes anymore? We're fairly certain she can afford a pair of flip-flops.

1. For those seeking live music: Patti Smith at the Ford Ampitheater, Blake Sennett of The Elected & Rilo Kiley at Spaceland and Joss Stone at House of Blues.
2. For those seeking magic water, red strings, or a chance celebrity encounter: Free introductory lecture at the Kabbalah Center. (Immortality practically guaranteed!)
3. For those seeking quality time for indulging their stalkerish crushes on Sarah Silverman: Ivy League Comedy at the
Hollywood Improv.

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com, and let the world know your X-ray vision can penetrate Cameron Diaz's floppy hat and gigantic sunglasses.