As mentioned in our earlier post on the Post's self-fellation over the fruition of its six-year plan to beat the Daily News is the 1,400-word (!) article by Kevin Fucking Federline.

What is wrong with you people? We told you earlier to snatch up tickets for the Kevin Federline show at Webster Hall next Saturday before they sold out, but if today's Page Six is to be believed, the show may be cancelled due to poor sales. Do you not listen to us any more?

As Kevin Federline continues to spend most of his limited energies lately developing a niche acting career in which he improvises a few lines of dialogue before finding himself on the receiving end of a violent, audience-pleasing act, Britney Spears has been flying suspiciously below the radar. Unlike the arrival of the first, slippery little addition to their household, Sean Preston's younger sibling has yet to surface on the cover of a single celebrity glossy—surprisingly, not even in a telephoto shot of a sidewalk faceplant after the brave, little tyke pulled the short straw in a competition for mom's grip, losing to two Venti Frappucinos and a set of Mini Cooper car keys. There hasn't even been a consensus yet reached on the official official gender or name of the child, and the baby's parents seem perfectly happy to ensure that the youngest Federline remains swaddled in mystery:

Surely there's more important news with which to start the morning (or, uh, not), but we'd be remiss if we didn't alert you of a today's most-important to-do: at noon, tickets go on sale for Kevin Federline's concert at Webster Hall. Get your clicking finger ready for some heated competition, because rabid CSI fans, ironic music bloggers, and a bargain ticket price are going to make this one a quick sellout.

The Donald appeared Larry King last night, where he mused on pervy congressman Mark Foley, fired lackey Carolyn Kepcher, Martha Stewart...and Kevin Federline. While he didn't comment on K-Fed's moving work on CSI, he did explain how the little wifebeater that could eventually won Trump's bombastic heart. Apparently, it wasn't that hard:

Let it never be said that partially mummified, softball-tossing talk show host Larry King does not have sneakily impressive interviewing skills. King long ago realized that the majority of his guests would probably be inclined to share more of themselves by pampering their hindparts with his desiccated lips (it should go without saying that some kind of balm is applied prior to contact to prevent an unpleasant chafing), rather than by feebly trying to press an orthopedic shoe into their throats. On last night's show, King's ability to put his interrogee at ease was on full display, as the host somehow managed to coax notoriously media-shy real estate developer Donald Trump into sharing his opinions on a variety of
current figures of pop culture interest, first following up on his thoughts about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie. On Brad: Smart guy for narrowly dodging the marriage issue! Angelina: Eh, not even that attractive:

Not only were the producers of CSI generous enough to provide Kevin Federline with a speaking role on their hit show to help kick-start what is sure to be a celebrated acting career, it seems that they also let America's favorite background-dancing househusband improvise his own dialogue ("You bitches haven't caught them cats yet?" "Man, you're weak, weak, weak, weak."), wardrobe himself (white wife-beater, high-water pants, carefully tilted trucker hat), and perform his own stunts (getting sucker-punched in the stomach). Judging from this video clip of his upcoming cameo, their supreme confidence in the neophyte's varied talents was repaid handsomely, as Federline is utterly convincing as a sneering street punk begging to be brutalized by a cop. And based on how positively the viewing public will no doubt react to the doubled-over, wheezing K-Fed, CBS will have no choice but to invite him back for a prolonged, far more graphic televised beating later in the season.

Realizing, like Survivor, that their own, aging CBS series could use a little free publicity by way of a headline-grabbing controversy, the producers of CSI: Crime Scene Investigation wisely opted out of launching a spinoff entitled CSI: Black People, and instead cast Vanilla Ice-channeling couchhusband Kevin Federline in a guest-starring role. (Plot details are under wraps, though we hear he plays a murder victim ironically strangled to death in his sleep with his own wife-beater by the wealthy dimwit he's been sponging off for years.) Arrangements had been made to give People the exclusive non-story, but a leak occurred, resulting in a stern missive from CBS' publicity department being issued to the entire "CSI Team." A Defamer operative forwarded the e-mail to us:

• Kevin Federline to appear on C.S.I. Somehow the idea of Federline as a suspected murderer just doesn't mesh with the whole wife beater, no job, Kid Rock wannabe thing. WTF? [AOL]
• Tom Cruise in talks with Yahoo! to take his crazy wireless. [Liz Smith]
• Justin Timberlake visits sick kids in hospital, rocks their sick little bodies. [Lowdown, 3rd item]
• Kimora Lee Simmons turned away from night club, marriage, for being too ghetto. [R&M]
• Tori Spelling's new husband does not like her cats. Spelling insists there is no other way to be crazy, forgotten, washed-up celebrity now known as "that old crazy cat lady I think was on TV once, who lives in the spooky old house on the hill." [Page Six]

Snakes on a Plane wasn't the only opportunistically marketed entertainment product riding a groundswell of semi-ironic obsession to suffer through an underwhelming debut this weekend. On last night's Teen Choice awards, world-famous househusband and reformed background dancer Kevin Federline donned his best white-trucker-hat-and- matching-Oxford ensemble for his first-ever public performance. The predictably lip-synced affair was notable mostly for the aspiring rapper's maddening refusal to stumble into the on-stage pyrotechnics and attempt to put out the flames engulfing him by increasing the intensity of his Roger Rabbit steps, an admirable, if ill-advised, refusal to interrupt his flow. In the absence of an accidental K-Fed immolation, there really wasn't much to hold the attention once Britney Spears completed her introduction and removed her overflowing, pregnancy-enhanced cleavage from view, but if pressed for a favorite moment from the performance, we'd have to say it's when the bewifebeatered guy in the front row, presumably a member of Federline's posse, leaps out of his seat and offers some approving fist-pumps at the end of the song, which made our own wildly enthusiastic gesticulations celebrating Federline's triumph seem somewhat uninspired.

We're not exactly sure what connection there is between a white-trash guy whose only contribution to society was the rapid double-impregnation that finally broke the career of a fading pop star and Liberace's rooftop mausoleum of lavish, extreme kitsch, but some event planning visionary obviously connected those dots to decide to host Kevin Federline's Teen Choice Awards party in the deceased entertainer's Hollywood penthouse. The invitation optimistically indicates that the party will rage on from 9 p.m. to 1 a.m., but we imagine that Liberace's ghost and the phantom faggle he's having over to cackle at Federline and his friends will quickly tire of the soiree, and the guest of honor's impromptu performance of "PopoZao" will be cut short by a hail of candelbras rained down upon him by the gay poltergeists unimpressed with his musical abilities.

Tired of being recognized merely as an opportunistic barnacle fused to his more famous wife's leg, Kevin Federline is busily putting the finishing touches on his debut album, "Playing With Fire," the project that coaxed him out of the background dancing shadows and is set to establish him as a major non-talent in his own right. Somehow, Federline has convinced the Fox network to let him close the Teen Choice 2006 awards with a performance of his debut single, "Lose Control." From USA Today:

Because nothing helps sell a brand like associating it with Kevin Federline's cum, Blender's PR geniuses at Four Corners Communications put out this release earlier today:

· When you play this game, in which the object is simply to pummel Kevin Federline until his skin if flayed from his face, there will come a point when Britney Spears steps in to act as a human shield. And then you will punch her avatar, too, over and over again, wondering why you aren't more disturbed by this act of violence, or by the presence of the baby that your blows occasionally dislodge from her grasp. This is some fucked up shit, yo. [via Kotaku]
· We do not know which is scarier: This one of Maury Povich heartlessly torturing a pickle-phobic with hundreds of little green representations of her greatest fear, or any selection from these series of Scientology orientation videos.
· No matter what you do, famous people will continue to marry.
· Rescue Me's Peter Tolan learned the hard way that not everyone wants to see Denis Leary's fucked-up fireman character rape his ex-wife.

To celebrate the glory of K-Fed's wildly successful PR appearance in Times Square yesterday, wife Britney Spears took her pennies to Columbus Circle (you knew she was a mallrat). A reader provides the above images and reports that a stroller was on the scene, being put to good use as a shopping cart.

The action unfolded in Times Square, but wrong-coasted, media-whoring sister site Gawker was on the scene with our boss's video camera. "Man! I feel good about the penny. I love it," said one Kevin Federline, the most reviled househusband in all the land, at yesterday's Virgin Mobile-sponsored "charity" event to save the obsolescent coin. The onetime practitioner of the background-dancing arts then invited the world to text him at his ultra-secret cell phone number (310-876-4210, he'd love to hear from you!), and in an act of selflessness that very nearly shook free a tear from our eye (read: open weeping, with immediate phone call to Mom to tell her how much we love her), pushed the lion's share of this week's allowance through a slot on an armored car.

If you were wondering, Kevin Federline feels "good about the penny," as he announced to a crowd of at least 25 people who gathered in Times Square yesterday. As captured by our brilliant intern-cum-videoslave Scott Kidder, the occasion was marked by inexplicable skywriting, a penny-encrusted truck, and spastic publicist control of the "crowd" (consisting mostly of depressed cameramen), and a post-promotional smoke.

Britney Spears' Dateline interview gave us a rare, publicist-unaltered glimpse into the vast, open plains of her inner consciousness, while shedding some much needed light on what exactly it is that she sees in husband Kevin Federline ("He's very simple...He's so simple...His simplicity..."). That would have been enough for us to declare him the catch of the century, but there's also the matter of K-Fed's tireless philanthopic work. A press release in our inbox announces a live appearance by Federline in Times Square tomorrow, standing alongside the anti-Federline, self-made billionaire Sir Richard Branson. The cause? Saving the penny "in face of its possible legislative elimination," an odd choice to say the least, though we suppose there's no one more appropriate than Federline to stand up for near-worthless space-wasters.

Can we go back for just one sec to the Kevin Federline PR stunt in Times Square today? Yes, it's your rare chance to see The Impregnator out at a public event, and, yes, it's amusing — if expected — that the flacks won't let any reporters actually, you know, talk to him. But we must stop to highlight the allegedly philanthropic cause he and Richard Branson are supporting while also drumming for Virgin Mobile. They're working to save the penny. We'll repeat: To save the penny! "[T]o prove the value of the penny in face of its possible legislative elimination," the press release brags, "Branson, Federline and Eggers show their enthusiasm for the nostalgic coin by highlighting the value of the penny and being the first to sign the 'Save the Penny' petition to be presented to lawmakers in Washington D.C." Why the hell would you want to do that? Who needs more pennies? Wouldn't you rather just round everything to the nearest nickel?