· Mel Gibson has signed on for his first acting job since Signs and We Were Soldiers back in 2002. In Edge of Darkness, a feature based on a BBC miniseries from the '80s, he'll play "a straitlaced police investigator whose activist daughter is killed, probably by the Jews." [Variety]
· Could one-half of the lusty network coupling responsible for siring struggling, bastard offspring The CW be missing their former identity? Warner Bros. just launched TheWB.com, where you can catch streamed episodes of old programming and newly launched online series. [Variety]

• Carrie Fisher so totally did have take a ride in Harrison Ford's Millennium Falcon during the filming of the Star Wars movies. Fisher: "Once I left the room and came back and he was in the closet not wearing a lot of clothes." The Sun headlined their story, "Carrie: I gave Ford Obi-Wan." [Sun]

Self proclaimed "King of Malibu" Mel Gibson nearly caused a pile-up in his fair city as he attempted to decipher a text message from one of his children at a stoplight. Gibson asked a motorist in the next lane if they knew what "Hai *vin 4 cofy ditd <3" meant. The passing motorist shrugged their shoulders, but told Gibson that they loved him in Bird On A Wire and zoomed away. Gibson continued to decipher for roughly ten minutes before tossing the phone in the back seat while shouting, "Kids. These fucking kids today."

Actor/King of Malibu Mel Gibson expressed his dismay with escalating gas prices while filling up in the 'Bu yesterday afternoon. Gibson asked the gentleman at the pump across from him if he knew why the prices are so high and the man blurted out, "Cause Bush is a dick." Gibson shook his head and muttered, "No, that can't be it."

This just in: News of a bizarre death at Malibu land baron Mel Gibson's home today: "Law enforcement sources tell TMZ a construction worker committed suicide at Mel Gibson's house today. It happened at Mel's Agoura Hills home. The construction worker was 47-years-old. We're told he hanged himself." [TMZ]

Sadly, our cinematic dreams of Britney Spears and Mel Gibson making movie magic together will remain dreams for now. The odd couple's meeting in LA over the weekend was neither a business meeting nor a date, according to a People source: "There are no expectations, there is no agenda. It's simply an act of human kindness - one neighbor reaching out to the other." Maybe it's just us, but we're not exactly sure Britney needs a life counselor who's an alleged neo-Nazi, let alone one who's fond of calling lady cops Sugar Tits. Then again, he does have two years of sobriety under his belt. That and he's surely got it a bit more together than Michael Lohan. We guess you gotta take what you can get in these trouble-laden times. [People]

Though we hope Britney had been called to a meeting with Mel to fill in the cast of his upcoming Under And Alone, which stars Gibson as an undercover agent infiltrating motorcycle gangs in Southern California, the film is already in production. Still, Spears would be a cameo natural; looking rougher than ever and sounding like she's come to embrace misery as a primary emotion, stepping in as some kind of abused, washed-up rider's girlfriend, all while dressed in ripped leather (and with no need for a knotty, tar-colored wig!) would be a better comeback choice than her infamous Lip Syncing On Valium appearance.

Like so many other celebrities, alcoholic anti-Semite Mel Gibson apparently thinks he can help Britney Spears. Mel had dinner with Britney at a Russian restaurant in L.A., and now TMZ is reporting that Gibson and his family have "very privately befriended Britney Spears." The Gibsons reportedly "reached out to Britney during her darkest days" and have been in touch with her ever since "to give her support." I'm sure Mel has lots of great advice and wisdom to offer Britney. It must be comforting and helpful for her to know that the Zionists are responsible for all of her career issues.

Benedict Fitzgerald was the screenwriter selected by Mel Gibson in the spring of 2001 to write The Passion of the Christ. By all accounts, the process was a bloodletting, each subsequent rewrite returned awash in red-ink suggestions of, "Way more flesh rending here," "Watch out for those tricky Aramaic verb tenses!" and, "Maybe add, 'Don't blame us. This is all the Jews' fault!'...Or is that too on the nose?" Eventually, a draft was delivered that would become the blueprint for one of the most successful independent films of all time: a $30 million-budgeted production that returned $612 million in worldwide box office receipts. Yesterday, Fitzgerald filed suit against Gibson, accusing Gibson of fraud and breach of contract, and demanding no less than $5 million in damages from the Malibu land czar:

This morning in official denials of inaccurate reports emerging in the wake of Heath Ledger's untimely death: "Absolutely at no time are we going to be interviewing her. We never had any plans to interview her. At this point we are just waiting for the Medical Examiner's report," says the NYPD in response to a story that they intended to lock Mary-Kate Olsen in an interrogation room lit only by a single, flickering lightbulb until she revealed all the secrets of her phone calls with the 911-bypassing masseuse who discovered the actor's body. "[A] complete crock of s[hit]," hisses the oft-embattled publicist for Mel Gibson, annoyed about an item spuriously claiming that Gibson is anti-gay-cowboy, and "turned cold" towards Ledger for ignoring his allegedly terrible career advice about turning down Brokeback Mountain. [People, Rush & Molloy]

Not since Sharon Stone shrinkwrapped her below-the-belt Basic Instinct co-star for a gala fundraiser has the Make-A-Wish Foundation had such an exciting, celebrity-pants-related opportunity. Kathy Hilton has spent the holiday amassing an impressive collection of celebrity memorabilia for an eBay auction benefiting the dream-fulfilling children's charity, including a pair of stonewashed dungarees worn and signed by Mel Gibson.

The Independent Commission into Possible Police Censorship of Certain Jew-Baiting, Sugartit-Disparaging Comments Spoken by the King of Malibu Upon His Cazardores-Fueled DWI Arrest has reached its findings, concluding there was no cover-up in the omission of Mel Gibson's now-legendary statements from the initial L.A. County Sheriff's report. Their reasoning: "Because of a concern about certain information gathered during the arrest falling prematurely into the hands of media sources and because there was no clear Departmental guidance provided on how to handle this scenario presented, supervisors made spontaneous decisions with regard to how to package the information and describe the arrest." [TMZ]

With a significant portion of Southern California engulfed in apocalyptic hellfires sent by a vengeful God clearly envious of our year-round good weather and easily accessible, delicious produce, the hardy footsoldiers dispatched to the front lines of this unwinnable war display extraordinary courage in the line of duty. We speak, of course, of the paparazzi angling for a shot of Britney Spears's home. The NY Observer reports:

With its relaxing ocean vistas and its proximity to the area with highest density of well-monied, famous fuck-ups addicts on the planet, it's unsurprising that Malibu has become such a popular location for absurdly expensive drug rehabilitation centers, whose recent concentration in the welcoming beachside community provides a staggering variety of convenient drying-out options for out-of-control celebrities who've just driven their luxury automobiles into the Pacific following all-night benders. Today's LAT has taken a closer look at Malibu's impressive line-up of detox resorts, but discovers that some patients unhappy with their results claim that the some of the celebrity-studded rehab centers have unfair no-refund and pro-starfucking policies:

· This is what you're missing out on if you ever make the mistake of changing the channel from QVC.
· Even in Bali, Mel Gibson can't get "sweaty" and "bleary-eyed" without somebody sticking a camera in his face. Will this man never know peace?
· Who could've guessed that astronomers would be Star Trek fans?
· It appears that Pam Anderson's relationship progressed at least as far as the drunken-marriage-license-filing stage.
· The Flight of the Concords on the best part of fame: "Jemaine went to the Viper Room the other night, got to the door and the woman said, '$10, please.' Then somebody turns to her [mimes whispering] and she goes, '$5, please.' That's my favorite experience. Not free, but celebrity discount—half-off entrance to a club."
· We knew we'd seen that Spector look somewhere before.

We're know we're all still recovering from Kiefer Sutherland's drunken tackling of our collective Christmas tree, but, unfortunately, nothing but more heartache awaits: as noted in the above Today clip, Malibu land baron Mel Gibson, whose despotic control of the sleepy beachside community was undermined by some ill-chosen, tequila-drenched words about his Semitic and sugar-titted subjects, is abandoning our fine city for the badlands of Costa Rica, ignoring the warnings of a government concerned for the safety of our emigrating national treasure.

Yesterday, just a little over one year since the fateful night part-time Costa Rican resident Mel Gibson strolled out of a Malibu cocktail lounge and into infamy as the Hebrew-hatingest, sugartit-leeriest Oscar winner in all of Hollywood, a judge declared the actor free from having to attend mandatory Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. From the NY Daily News:

"I went to last night's Giants game to see Barry Bonds hit a home run or two. A failed mission. Between innings, the scoreboard had a quiz. Who is first baseman Ryan Klesko's favorite actor: A) Tom Hanks, B) Mel Gibson, or C) Jim Carrey? Then on came a video of Mr. Klesko in which he declared for B. The entire episode was sponsored by Hebrew National Kosher Hot Dogs." [Dot Dead Diary]

Our Wednesday morning survey of Hollywood loneliness shifts from love-starved starlets to superannuated talent agents who will soon find themselves back on the market once their messy divorces are finalized. Today's Page Six evaluates Ed Limato's prospects for post-ICM happiness, noting that any agency courtship might be hampered by the fact that the septuagenarian won't be a cheap date:

A flock of local female admirers pose with new Costa Rican resident Mel Gibson, blissfully unaware that the actor/director is one bottle of guaro away from disparagingly referring to them as "a bunch of starfucker sugarcane-tits." [TMZ]