This just in from a photographer who happened to be at Tullamarine when Lily Allen touched down on Tuesday night.

The paparazzi kicker, aka Lilly Allen touched down in Melbourne and kicked another photographer after not allowing photographs and walked through the terminal with her hands over her head.

LILY ALLEN, YOU BEHAVE YOURSELF YOUNG LADY!

We have a couple of insiders doing various things on this tour, so we'll keep an ear out for further reports regarding Lily's antics and by the end of the week we should be able to deliver you a definitive verdict on the little scamp - spoiled hack or just a feisty takes-no-shit pop singer?

Thanks for the tip, David!

Babyshambles frontman Pete Doherty has turned to the people closest to him - the tabloids - in an attempt to convince ex-girlfriend Kate Moss to fall back into his track mark covered arms.

The troubled Babyshambles rocker, who recently had another anti-heroin implant fitted to help him beat drugs, says Kate is a jealous "nasty old rag" but he still loves her.

Pete, who was dumped by the supermodel after he reportedly cheated on her, told Britain's Daily Mirror newspaper: "Kate has broken my heart. There's been this lockdown and I can't get hold of her. This is the only way I can get through. I'm here to tell her that I love her. Kate is both jealous and suspicious. She is a nasty old rag and she kicked me in the head. But I love her because of the things she does in bed and because she is a multi-millionaire!

In a strange way, we can't help but admire his brick-to-the-back-of-the-head brand of honesty.

Meanwhile, Kate is taunting him by singing songs from Audrey Hepburn movies!

He said: "She rang last night and left a drunken answer phone message, singing 'Moon River'. She has ripped my heart out. I don't know what I'm doing."

That tickles us, for some bizarre reason.

The latest development in the John Laws versus The Faggy Faggy Bum Bandits case...

Broadcaster John Laws has won an adjournment in a vilification case brought against him by gay activist Gary Burns. The NSW Administrative Decisions Tribunal (ADT) cleared Laws in March of vilification on the grounds of free speech over comments he made about Queer Eye For The Straight Guy personality Carson Kressley.

Laws called Kressley a "pillow biter" and "pompous little pansy prig" during a 2004 broadcast, comments he defended as tongue-in-cheek. The ADT found that Laws had vilified Kressley, but that the comments fell within an exception of the Anti-Discrimination Act designed to preserve free speech.

We didn't realise that calling a diamante-covered spade a diamante-covered-spade-owned-by-a-fudgepacker is actually part of the whole free speech deal! It's somewhat disappointing, actually. Part of the thrill of name-calling was that, you know, you're breaking the rules and sticking it up (but not in a faggy way) The Man. Now that picking on homos is considered art or whatevs, the appeal has lessened somewhat.

Anyway, as we've said before, we've always found it a bit rich that John Laws feels the need to fling unflattering monikers towards our homosexual brothers and sisters when his own nickname - Golden Tonsils - sounds like it belongs to a high class rent boy born without a gag reflex.

The Magazine Factory on Park Street in Sydney (that's ACP in case you're wondering) has banned its many minions from accessing Facebook at work.

And they're not happy about it either.

According to Sydney Confidential, the crackdown came after some of the Dolly and Cleo girls started bagging out company executives in a specially-created group on the site.

Since the organisation's bigwigs found out about he site it has been removed and while all the offending "whores" were believed to have kept their jobs, there was an ad for a Dolly web editor advertised on the company's internal website this week.

Firstly - how dumb can one bunch of girls be? Bitching about your bosses is fine - we all do it - but bitching about your bosses in a public forum where everyone can see who said what and when is the stupidest thing we've heard! All that nail-polish testing and talk about shoes has done some serious damage...

Of course, the girls can still access Facebook from their home computers, so they can still discuss the important issues, like whether to have a pizza day every month.

Incidentally, there is a group on Facebook called "Campaign 2 get Dolly back on Facebook" but surprisingly, it has nothing to do with this incident.

· By the time you get to the end of this video, the man with the microphone will already be dead, with Oreo crumbs and a curiously yoghurt-like substance found near his lifeless body the only clues as to who did him in. · Every wonder how Brandon and Dylan's 90210 sideburns influenced 9/11 jihad fashion? Radar explains. · NBC's Jeff Zucker is so in love with his new rock star that he can barely find the words to express his ardour: "Ben [Silverman] brings great enthusiasm, optimism and energy, so it's always exciting to have Ben around because his enthusiasm and excitement is boundless."· · Thighs Wide Shot celebrates The Lost Boys' 20th anniversary. (Damn, that makes us feel old.)

In this topsy-turvy world of starlets with brains and divine smitings, it's a relief to know we can count on our masterful DVD bootleggers to peer into their crystal balls and show us how good things could be. A reader sent us this still of the cover of a cheap, pirated copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, which radically improves the film by slapping an R rating on it to account for the antics of its salacious new cast: In this rich fantasy world, Marg Helgenberger stars as stripper-cum-academic Hermione Granger, Steven Seagal both appears and thoughtfully brought his prodigious vision as Director of Photography, and we're treated to the acting debut of recluse "Happy" Dean Stanton, Harry Dean's cheerfully rapacious prankster brother with a penchant for improv and pantsing people. It all makes us crave an actualisation of this potential Oscar contender - how much more satisfying would the climax be if Steven Seagal, slick ponytail snapping in the breeze, head-butted Voldemort in his noseless noggin before turning his wand into an Uzi? Finally the Academy could reward him for a career that has been woefully overlooked.

We had sensibly assumed the respiratory infection that struck down Christina Aguilera - forcing her to cancel her Australian concert dates - came from screeching those high notes prior to a parade of all-night, stress-relieving tour-bus orgies. But apparently we've been short-sighted, forgetting God's distaste for Louboutins, blondes, and wanton displays of sexuality the likes of which would make Satan pump his claws in triumph. Says the Baptists For Brownback blog:

[T]hanks to the majesty and power of God, the blaring megaphone of Chrisina [sic] Aguilera's sexual terrorism has been muffled.

Citing the lyrics to Aguilera's song "Naughty, Nasty Boy," which entreat a lusty hunk of sin-meat to "put your icing in [her] cake" and give her a spanking, the blogger - who runs a Web site in support of a Republican senator from Kansas - further suggests the virus is revenge for tainting the world with her red-lipped strumpetry:

"Naughty, Nasty Boy"... may as well be the official anthem for harlotry and sodomy. One can only imagine how many unplanned sexual events occurred as a result of impressionable young minds being exposed to such filth.

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While we at Defamer realise that any of our female readers with acting aspirations hardly need our help in procuring the services of "producers" willing to exchange sexual favours for empty promises of career assistance, we nonetheless feel it's our duty to occasionally serve as middleman between parties seeking this classic, mutually beneficial show business arrangement. Lounging in a VIP booth in Craiglist's virtual Hollywood nightclub is this anonymous starmaker, who's looking to send a drink over to the table of any struggling actress willing to blow him in a bathroom stall if he passes her headshot on to his favourite agency:

I'M REAL! FILM PRODUCER FOR NSA W/ASPIRING ACTRESS/MODEL NEEDING HELP - m4w - 35 Real Posting! Yes, I am a real motion picture producer with numerous credits of films you've most likely seen. I'm mid 30's, slim and fit, sexy as hell and easy on the eyes! I don't have much time for dating and am looking for a mutually beneficial situation/NSA with an aspiring actress/model who may need to jump start their career.

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Apparently, merely yearning for the sight of Scarlett Johansson lovingly devouring pounds of sweaty ladyflesh does not make it so. Johansson's reps are swiftly, stiffly nipping in the bud all rumours that she will step into porn star Jenna Jameson's edible panties:

While Jameson has gushed for months that the A-list beauty-cum-Woody Allen muse would be the perfect choice to headline her lurid tale of sex, drugs and award-winning girl-on-girl action [...] Johansson denies any and all involvement in the sure-to-be skin-heavy flick.

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From the "no shit, Sherlock" department, Star Jones Reynolds is finally confessing what anyone with half an eye and a brain cell already knew: that her 70 kilogram weight loss was due to gastric bypass surgery. After spending years denying that she went that route, in an upcoming Glamour column Star seems to gloss over the magnitude of that whole messy lying in favour of playing the insecurity card:

Why the delay in speaking up? "First, I didn't know if the surgery would work," she writes in the first-person essay. "I had spent my entire adult life telling everyone that I was fine with the way I looked. I never thought I'd have to explain it. "But the complete truth is, I was scared of what people might think of me."

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It must have been a slow news night for Access Hollywood, as this segment touting Discovery's Shark Week features nary a troubled actress being torn limb from limb by the ravenous predators. But you know what? Watching civilians fight for their lives has it own charms, and the network will probably have an all-celebrity shark attack special soon enough.

• Access Hollywood

Continuing its proud tradition of reality programming centred around larger-than-sane-life characters whose low-grade mental illness enhances their professional success (see Blowout's narcissistic personality disorder sufferer Jonathan Antin and Hey Paula's apparent dissociative identity victim), Bravo tonight unleashes Flipping Out and its house-renovating, compulsively abusive protagonist on the world. Notes the NY Times:

Jeff Lewis is a very scary man, and he isn't scary solely because he treats his employees like dust mites or consults a psychic to assist him in the running of his business or sends his cat, Monkey, to an acupuncturist. No, Jeff Lewis, a Los Angeles real estate speculator, evokes a chill because he is so leveraged, a man balancing multiple mortgages like bricks on a noodle.

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· Var issues its tribute to Hollywood ladypower, the Women's Impact Report, as well as its Hazardous Impact Report, an inventory of the tabloid-attracting trainwrecks who seek to sabotage the work of the Stacey Sniders, Nancy Tellems, and Laura Ziskins of the world. [Variety] · Has there ever been a worse time to be a TV viewer? CBS and Fox split the ratings race last night behind a Two and Half Men repeat and a new episode of Hell's Kitchen. [THR] ·"U[niversal] brass felt Vaughn was money and he didn't even know it." [Variety] · Wondering what Blair Underwood's been up to? Knock yourselves out. [THR] · Hollywood StrikeWatch, Stockpiling Edition: A report from permitting agency Film LA to be released today reveals that local TV and feature production has risen at a rate unseen since the eve of a feared 2001 strike, a figure suggesting that the studios are indeed squirreling away all the product they can in preparation for a possible work stoppage next year. Meanwhile, Writers Guild of America members are making their own preparations by fighting over pallets of canned corn in the aisles of Costco. [Variety]

As any Hollywood resident who has ever suffered the heartbreak of discovering that their freshly washed vehicle has been even more freshly shat upon by an incontinent flock of air-rats can tell you, the pigeon menace must be stopped at all costs. Good Morning America this morning looked at the efforts of local anti-pigeon crusaders to slow the filthy avian population explosion by mixing birth control into their feed (spiking their drinks with roofies and then carting off their unconscious bodies was a plan that proved far too resource-intensive), a measure that just might avert a crisis where every block between Western and La Brea is wiped out by a foetid, white blanket of bird shit. Should the pilot program prove successful, a more radical neighbourhood clean-up effort involving the mass sterilisation of all Hollywood clubgoers could be put in place by the end of the year.

• Good Morning America

As it turns out, it was not Social Hollywood that was proudly reigniting the soak-and-poke torch tragically extinguished by the ceremonial dumping out of the last tubful of the venerated Splash spa's overchlorinated, DNA-rich waters. A note we just received from a helpful publicist reveals that it was the neighbouring BOULEVARD3 (all caps theirs) that recently offered its upscale clientele the exciting opportunity to enjoy an evening of delicious food, top-shelf cocktails, and unrepentant, jacuzzi-enhanced fornication:

I am contacting you as I represent BOULEVARD3, the venue that is located next to Social Hollywood. The Cal Spas hot tubs that were delivered last week were actually delivered to BOULEVARD3 for an amazing special event - thought up an carried out by BOULEVARD3's owner Peter Famulari.

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Curbed LA notes a mysterious delivery of multiple hot tubs to Social Hollywood, speculating that their sudden appearance might be a harbinger of one of those charming, "actual famous people go here!" Entourage location shoots. It's certainly a possibility, but another explanation could be that with the recent closure of local soak-and-poke institution Splash, Social's savvy owners might merely be moving to fill the void left by its shuttering by offering a more upscale, fucking-in-a-disease-riddled-crockpot experience to its patrons.

• Delivery at Hollywood Social? [Curbed LA]