Friday
· Freitagnachtmusik: Nerf Herder, The Orange Peels, and Le Rev at Spaceland; Electrelane and Be Your Own Pet at the Troubadour; The Blood Brothers and (the presciently named) Plot to Blow Up The Eiffel Tower at the El Rey.
· Jerry "Permanent Midnight" Stahl and others read from The Cocaine Chronicles at Skylight Books. Wasn't Stahl more of a heroin guy?
Saturday
· Saturday Night's Alright For Music: The Makers at Spaceland, Phantom Planet and The Like at Downtown Gallery; The Adored at the Knitting Factory.
· A reader's convinced us that the "Portraits" Exhibition at BambooLane/Revisited is worth some eyeball time, so check it out here.
Sunday
· It's Father’s Day! If you finally find him, maybe you can bond over brunch or a round of golf. We hear fathers like that stuff. Otherwise, drinking alone has always worked for us.
· One of our writing heroes, TC Boyle, will read do a reading with daughter K. Kvashay-Boyle at the Hammer Museum.

• Think the defeat of the West Side Stadium means New York won't get a new sports arena? Think again. And again. And again.
• Radar reports that Russian gadfly Inna De Silva may or may not have fleeced New York mag and Phoebe Eaton for a luxury vacation in Monaco on Kurt Andersen's editorial watch. Eaton says it's untrue, Radar says it is. We're too hot to investigate further.
• Can't quite get your mind around the TomKat trainwreck? Neither could we. Fortunately, trainwreck expert Lizzie Grubman was there to help us through this trying time.
• Like, it's so totally awesome that Mr. Big knows our name. Now if only he'd stop lying about us.
• It's amazing what your gay ex-husband's oil millions can buy: Gawker spies visited the HuffPost's pleasure dome.
• A famous editor has a diaper fetish, but we have no idea who it is.
• Tucker Carlson's MSNBC show debuted, and Henry the Intern once again has a reason to live.
• We get ignored at lunch.
• And it was a sad week for notorious New York real estate.

Join us as we romatically scatter rose petals on the bed as a prelude to making the sweet, sweet love of gratitude to this week's sponsors. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer and catch the attention of America's most distracted office workers, see this page.

· "'I like a great sense of humor, a good personality and someone with a little spunkiness,' Katie Holmes says of her dream guy. 'Tall, dark, and handsome.'" Weel, she definitely got spunky...
· Attention Kate Mantilini diners: Just in case you neglected to read the warning on the menu, you are being monitored.
· Who does Sony have to burn at the stake to convince people that the Bewitched statue in Salem is a celebration of the witch lifestyle, and not just a cheap promotion for the upcoming movie (or the TV Land sitcom revival)?
·Greenlight this movie (and every movie like it) immediately: "'The scripts I get are always for the whore, or the motorcycle chick in leather, or the horny maid,' Alba says as she climbs a hill, panting slightly. 'I get all these screenplays that start, 'Tawnya is in the shower. The water streams down her naked, perky breasts.' " [via Whatevs]

· The LA Film Festival begins today with a screening of Down in the Valley at the ArcLight. It's just like Sundance, but when people wear hideous, furry boots, it's not because their feet are cold—it's because they are morons.
· WOW troublemakers/documentarians Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato will loiter around the Egyptian to answer questions after a screening of their short doc Sex in the 70s: Blue Movie Britain and Confessions of a Window Cleaner, one of the movies that inspired them.
· Tonight is Cabaret Voltaire’s 2nd Anniversary Musical Smorgasbord Extravaganza Tribute to Abe Lincoln at the Steve Allen Theater. If you dress like Lincoln, not only are your chances of sexual relations with Abe fetishists exponentially increased, you also receive a half-price discount on the cover. That's a win-win, friends.

· Oh, those Golden Girls, always trying to save the elephants! Next week, Bea Arthur will do her part and beat some ivory poachers to death with her bare hands.
· Nicole Kidman hangs out with man, makes news.
· Coldplay's new album opens at number one, proving the country's thirst for exceptionally well-produced elevator music.
· Porn-purveying sister site Fleshbot rounds up the most recent action in the runaway celebrity areola space.

· A Somewhat Smaller Night In Music Than Last Night, But Still Pretty Good: Helen Stellar at the Troubadour, Raveonettes at Spaceland. And if you care at all, last night's Wilco show was amazing. Just sayin'.
· A line-up of the late actor/monologist's celebrity friends (we don't know which ones, but we like surprises) will assemble at UCLA for "Leftover Stories to Tell: A Tribute to Spalding Gray." [It seems this event is a year from now. We're giving you plenty of advance notice. We're making the intern get in a time machine and hold seats for everybody.] How about a nice French movie about a gay dump-truck driver, courtesy of Flavorpill?
· A reader assures us that writer David Vann's reading from his memoir, A Mile Down: The True Story of a Man's Disastrous Career at Sea, at Dutton's Brentwood tonight, should not be overlooked. So we're not overlooking it.

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com (putting “privacywatch” or “sighting” in the subject line helps immensely) and let the world know that you didn't need to see Quentin Tarantino making out, but you did need to tell everyone about it once your eyeballs were seared.

We usually try to keep friends away from our pervy little brother — God only knows what he might pull from his nightstand and casually suggest might be interesting to "experiment" with. This particular romp, however, seems reasonably wholesome. We'll leave the seduction to him:

· The Butterscotch Stallion calls himself a "wild mustang," which prompts a reporter to get him to admit he knows all about his magnificent moniker. Our work here is done.
· NAMBLA embraces MJ, but will that support waver when they discover he's controversially reversing his boys-in-the-bed policy? [via Fishbowl LA]
· Buy the shirt, get the anti-Mark Cuban rant for free.
· Overzealous telecommunications enthusiast Russell Crowe is taking the fall for Cinderella Man shitting the box office bed.
· Katie Holmes gets audited.

· Writer/director/producer Franc "Empire" Reyes will be on hand at Voz-Box at Cinespace tonight for a 90 minute interview session, during which all of John Leguizamo's darkest secrets will be revealed (and perhaps there wi'll be chat about Reyes' new projects). But be forewarned: the website encourages people to bring their headshots and reels. Anarchy may rule the night.
· A Very Big Night In Music: Wilco at the Greek; Doves at the Wiltern, X at the Fonda, Stephen Malkmus at El Rey; Bright Eyes and the Faint at the Grand Olympic Auditorium; The Raveonettes at Spaceland.
· Gigi Levangie Grazer, wife of the Immortal Brian Grazer and recent media darling, signs her book The Starter Wife at Brentano’s in Century City.

· Ken Smokler reads and signs Bookmark Now: Writing in Unreaderly Times at Book Soup. The essay collection includes contributions by Glen David "Carter Beats The Devil" Gold, Meghan Daum, and our personal hero, founding Gawker editor Elizabeth "Don't Call Me Lizzie" Spiers.
· Last chance to prove that you are way more culturally sophisticated than we can ever hope to be (unless the possibility of getting laid is involved): Into the Unknown, featuring works by de Kooning, Gorky, Mondrian, Pollock, and others finishes up its run at MOCA.
· Some music: Hot Hot Heat at Avalon; The Hold Steady at the Troubadour; Foreign Born at Spaceland.

This was taken at approximately 7:30 this morning.

Well, I made it. I spent one week as the final guest editor here, and I somehow made it through without breaking any of the furniture. This is the first real, live blogging I've ever done, and I hope, when the new guy comes in Monday, I have not devalued the franchise to level of a penny stock, or, say, Salon. Thank you to the lovely Ms. Coen for fixing all my screwups and being a lovely host, to the readers for tolerating me and to Cinemax Adult On Demand, which filled in all those "downtime" gaps. Read The Black Table, pre-order my new book, hold your kittens tight and, of course, root for the Cardinals to whup up the Yankees this weekend. Let's get krump!—Will Leitch

Hollywood PrivacyWatch celebrity sightings are sent in by our readers. Send yours to tips@defamer.com (putting “privacywatch” or “sighting” in the subject line helps immensely) and let the world know that Elijah Wood has a special place to get his hair dyed.

In times of crisis, we try not to be complete assholes. So: One of our loyal, handsome interns, Neel Shah, has just completed his tour of duty at everyone's favorite fake Ivy, Dartmouth (where he was referred to as a "campus gadfly"). He even graduated cum laude — but don't tell his parents, or he'll shame the family as the only Indian who failed to pull magna. Besides interning at Gawker for the past year, Neel also knows how to type words and create sentences, having honed his skills at The Black Table and the Observer.

Join us in slaughtering the fatted calf to honor this week's sponsors, without whom, well, we wouldn't have a fatted calf to slaughter. If you'd like to advertise on Defamer and ensure generations of obese, sacrifical livestock for your family or shareholders, see this page.

Thanks to this week's sponsors, whose blood money keeps our bathtubs filled with caviar. Interested in catching the attention of our well-heeled audience? More info here.

· Why is Billy Idol chainsawing a sunroof into a Lamborghini? Fuck you, that's why. [Just to clear up some confusion, it's "Viva La" Bam Margera's car.]
· Hayden Christensen: May Not Be Gay, But...
· Oh, did we mention Katie Holmes canned her manager? Was it because he warned her that constantly making out with Tom Cruise would be career suicide? Nah...
· Available now on a dirty blanket on a black market sidewalk near you: Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith Special Edition, directed by Jerry Bruckheimer.
· Michael Jackson's prison: a preview.
· The LA Weekly's Nikki Finke gives Anne Bancroft a surprisingly sentimental send-off.

· Rebecca Heller signs Surf Like a Girl, more of an empowering how-to guide than an invitation to be a wave-riding sissy, at Borders in Santa Monica. Does anyone say tubular anymore? Tubular.
· We tend to break out in hives at the mere suggestion that we do something "cultural," but that shouldn't stop you from being classy: The Getty hosts a lecture on Rembrandt’s late religious portraits. If his paintings are nearly as good as his tooth-whitening system, your ass is going to be blown right off your body.
· Three shows, musical: Mark Gardener (from RIDE) at the Derby; Jason Faulkner at the Viper Room; Ash at the Knitting Factory.