We would've made this a YouTube Clip Of The Day, except that, well, it's not really deserving of such an honour. In any case, you may have been aware that Hollywood starlet and nice young lady Emmy Rossum has had a music career in the pipeline for some time now.

She appeared in Phantom of The Opera and has been on Broadway (i.e. she can actually sing), so we're puzzled as to how her schtick has ended up sounding like Enya doing an Imogen Heap covers record (or possibly the other way around) to be sold only on the Home Shopping Network.

We'd also like to meet the singing coach who advised her to pronounce the word "down" as "daaaaahhhne", and plan to use said pronunciation in our day-to-day lives from now on.

Just popping daaaaahhhne to the shops, toodles!

We told you yesterday (inbetween shuddering guffaws) that Vin Diesel's management were launching legal talks with an Australian promoter who claimed the action star was to appear at the Rooty Hill RSL.

Well, if the fine people who take the time to comment on Defamer Australia are to be believed, it seems the Returned Soldiers of New South Wales weren't the only peeps rooting (eh, eh!) for Diesel. So sayeth reader "Dwaine":

I am ther manager of a Western Australian Night Club and would like to ad that wee have booked a Vin Diesel appearance also and were expecting the star to be in Western Australia this month also. Still waiting on confirmation of a new date.

Are you in the same boat as Dwaine, and the good people of Rooty Hill? Is Vin Diesel booked to appear at your venue, school fete, or cousin's bat mitzvah?

Get in touch!

In news that will not surprise anyone who's ever swiped on a 'miracle' mascara only to find that their newly beclumped lashes look just as spindly as they did before, Britain's Advertising Standards Authority has declared that Rimmel ads featuring Kate Moss batting lashes as lush as a Mason Pearson were possibly not true to life.

Two viewers complained the model, 33, was actually wearing false eyelashes in the campaign for Rimmel's Magnif'Eyes.

Ad firm J Walter Thompson could not prove that Kate's lashes were her own, so the Advertising Standards Authority banned the campaign for being misleading.

You can watch the ad after the jump to marvel at just how naïve some consumers must be, but then, there would've been someone out there who thought that a bowl, spoon and fresh milk - and if you're really lucky, chopped up strawberries and bananas - came as a free gift inside the cereal packet, or there wouldn't be such a thing as a 'Serving Suggestion'.

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We like nothing better than our apparently celebrity-starved local press going berko when a star comes to town, so welcome to the gossip pages, Gisele Bundchen!

The leggy stunner (pictured at left looking leggy and stunning, though without a kangaroo) jetted into Melbourne yesterday ahead of the "down under" launch of her curiously clompy sandal range, and wasted no time getting down to the serious business of patting native fauna with a slightly bemused look on her face.

The stunner showed she'd done her research for her first visit Down Under, arriving at the airport in a grungy AC/DC T-shirt.

Both Healesville and Melbourne zoos were on stand-by in case Bundchen wanted to visit, but Healesville Sanctuary won the day.

On stand-by? Does that mean they brought out the real animals for Gisele, and us chopped liver types just get animatronic versions of the red tree kangaroos etc? This is outrageous!

OK! sure know how to get the good quotes out of people and they've outdone themselves with their interview with just sprog-dropped Charlotte Church - so much so that both of our favourite UK rags are scrambling all over her admissions.

In the Mail, Charlotte tells of being out shopping and having her retail binge spoiled by the onset of labour.

"I wanted to go for a meal in the Toby Carvery but the contractions were every five minutes so we came back."

At home in Cardiff, where the coupled installed a birthing pool, Church watched the rugby with Henson but admitted she "was on gas and air by that point so I wasn't really concentrating".

Saint Victoria, bless, has a similar tale, but also notes that baby Ruby Megan has inherited a delightful facial attribute from father Gavin Henson:

She said: "She's got Gavin's bum chin."

Yes, "she's got Gavin's bum chin". No "Charlotte looks adoringly at her handsome partner and declares, 'The baby has his beautiful eyes' before planting a passionate kiss on the father of her exquisite child", just "she's got Gavin's bum chin".

We're going to start using that as an all purpose turn of phrase. Why did someone else get the promotion and not you? She's got Gavin's bum chin. Friends wondering why you broke it off with a promising date? Had Gavin's bum chin. Why is that person crying? Gavin's bum chin.

And so on.

You should know by now that whenever we say "Well folks, this looks like the end of Winegums Watch...", something always comes along to save the day - well, today we have been saved by Sir Mick Jagger. Class!

The Rolling Stones frontman and Winegums' knight in white satin has spoken out in support of Winegums (who pulled out of her Stones opening slot a few months back due to "exhaustion" or the like), who he sees a little of himself in (and that's not a metaphor).

He says he wishes Amy was his own daughter so he could guide her through the murky music world. He added: “It's a shame that happened. She would have been amazing on that tour.

“It would have been full circle for the Stones, as she is like some of these classic soul singers from the past that inspired us. To have a woman that sings just like them in this time is wonderful.

“If only she would sort herself out. It is hard as your mind has to make that switch. If my mind had not always told me that I should not do too much I could have ended up like Amy years ago. But I always had that voice in my head that kept me on my toes and told me to stop altogether in the end. I realised I didn't want to die young.”

His Mickness even went so far as to offer to record a duet with the troubled singer, if that's what it would take to help get her back on track.

And for once, we don't think he means a special "duet" in the "recording studio" that exists, magically, between his bedsheets.

Kate Moss has been moaning for some time that Sienna Miller is stealing Ms Moss' thunder as an It girl and fashion trendsetter, and raiding her extended friendship group for new pals.

Well, she's sure to be delighted to hear that not only has Sienna poached Primrose Hill setter Rhys Ifans to be her special man friend, now the pair have gotten matching tattoos - only the tatt design is also something Kate Moss might feel Sienna is nicking from her.

Following Miller's drunken row with Kate Moss recently, when she confronted Sienna at a pal's wedding and said she is sick of Sienna 'stealing' her style, Rhys has clearly taken a big step to show her exactly where his loyalties lie.

But maybe the tattoo will serve to convince Kate that she isn't being paranoid - but is in fact right.

Miss Moss already has a swallow tattoo, and has used them in her TopShop range.

You know, if we were a canny cable TV producer (we picture ourselves as falling somewhere between Joe Francis and Aaron Spelling), we'd be signing these two up for a straight-to-TV remake of Single White Female, set in Notting Hill with an awesome soundtrack featuring Babyshambles and The Kills.

It seems all the naughty stools and Continental "pass-tah and soss" meals in the world weren't enough to convince the children of the Young family that setting fire to your house probably isn't a good idea.

The five boys appeared on Supernanny a couple of years back, with mum Susan hoping that Jo Frost could tame her unruly brood. Apparently the changes were less than permanent.

Her strict influence failed to last long enough to prevent the youngest, three-year-old Joel, being blamed for starting a blaze in the living room, apparently with a kitchen cooker lighter.

...No one was injured but Mrs Young, 40, was given oxygen after inhaling fumes. Firemen spent 30 minutes dousing the flames but the interior of the house was covered in a thick, black layer of soot leaving it uninhabitable.

We did come up with a highlarious little closing witticism for this story, but unfortunately one of Britain's finest has beaten us to it:

A spokesman for Essex Fire Service said: "Someone is certainly going to be sitting on the naughty step for quite some time."

Thanks for stealing our thunder, mate. Why don't you go make yourself useful and, like, save some kittens or some shit.

*petulant pouting*

We're not sure about Mark Da Costa being a "shock evictee" in the same league as Ricki-Lee or Bobby Flynn, but we will miss his Cester-lite hairdo and high-note crazy eyes - so we are pleased to announce (for Marcia Hines' benefit, mainly) that he has made it his life's mission to keep rocking in the free world (and not returning to a life of couriering, as we at first predicted).

Da Costa plans to release an independent disc of no-doubt RAWKIN' numbers, pulling in favours from a couple of industry pals including, er, the proprietor of Sydney pub The Welcome Hotel, amongst others.

Adding a wealth of experience to the album project will be producer Craig Porteils, who has recorded big name international acts including Guns N' Roses, Fleetwood Mac and Rod Stewart.

Da Costa is likely to record his first album offering in the Eargasm studio in Kings Cross run by Porteils, who has been pals with the singer for eight years.

If this "album project" doesn't feature a) a power ballad or b) a photo of Da Costa staring into the camera with arms outstretched, we're ringing Channel Ten for a refund on the roughly $3.05 we spent voting for Mark before we became bored of him.

Okay, so that headline might have made this story look a little more exciting than it actually is, but humour us: Nicole Kidman has signed on to play the lead in the cinematic adaptation of Rabbit Hole (David Lindsay-Abaire's play about parents' grief at the death of their child, which recently won the Pulitzer for Drama), but Our Georgie Parker reckons the text should stay live on stage.

Parker who plays Becca, the mother of the dead child, in the Ensemble Theatre production said the beauty of the play was the intimate grief of the characters shared with the audience.

She said although the screenplay starring Nicole Kidman would be overseen by the playwright, the script was one for the stage.

"Part of the beauty of this play is that the audience is here going through everything with you, as soon as you adapt it to a screen you've got a distance from that," Parker said.

In other words, Georgie is saying "As soon as you put Nicole Kidman in it and not me, it's going to suck massive dog's balls and you'll be sorry you made that particular casting decision when your children wake up next to a severed horse's head on Sunday morning".

Or words to that effect.

Leave Britney Alone Guy, it seems, fundamentally misunderstands what is expected of him in exchange for the meteoric, disposable fame he's derived from those two minutes of carefully calculated YouTube histronics.

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Though it was Larry Birkhead who openly swore he'd sue Rita Cosby, to use the legal parlance, "back into the MSNBC rat-hole from which she first produced her twitching rodent snout," it is Howard K. Stern, the second half of the all-male coupling she licentiously described in Blonde Ambition, who's first to file suit:

Anna Nicole Smith's lawyer and companion, Howard K. Stern, filed a $US60 million libel lawsuit Tuesday against Rita Cosby and her publisher over a book she wrote that claims Stern and Smith's ex-boyfriend, Larry Birkhead, had a sexual encounter.

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A flurry of tanning-bed-related activity has followed Britney Spears' relinquishing of her two sons to Kevin Federline's custody yesterday (a moment to let that sink in like a rusty anchor), which we sum up for you here in an easy-to-skim, round-up fashion:

· Britney's first stripped-of-her-children activity was a tanning session at "Epitome, her favourite Bel Air tanning salon," some light shopping, followed by check-in at The Peninsula, traumatising fellow guest Dave Matthews after paparazzi threatened to convince a judge to take away his children, too. [Usmagazine.com]
· Who's the real victim here: Britney's toddlers wading in a salt-rimmed kiddie-pool filled with margarita, or Britney - victim of society's sexist double standards? We'll let you mull that one over for a bit. [abcnews.go.com]

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From the pages of today's THR, the compassionate folks at MediCann reach out to those most desperately in need of their medical marijuana-related services: industry assistants, whose stressful, abuse-marred lives could be marginally enhanced by some legal hash pills, a quick nibble of a special brownie, or a more traditional puff of a smoke-break joint. Like "Abby," any anxiety-plagued call-roller who accepts the firm's assistance will soon find him or herself free of the debilitating panic attacks often associated with indentured Hollywood servitude, numbing themselves to both the physical and psychological pain caused by those Blackberry-shaped "anythings" their bosses throw at them.

[Ad via THR Digital Edition]

• MediCann [medicann.com]

Even though the network might not want critics to have advance access to its retooled Cavemen premiere (weirdly, as we typed those words, we could've sworn we heard Peter Krause whispering from the sidebar, "The comedy that has everyone talking debuts at 8 p.m. tonight , only on ABC"), they realise the importance of making sure that awareness of the show is high among audiences who expect intellectual engagement from their television programming.

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When NBC's Ben "The Perfect Storm" Silverman appeared on Michael Eisner's talk show last week to serve notice to his network rivals that his resurgent Peacock would soon be feasting on their rotting, Nielsen-dead entrails, the full extent of his programming vision was not yet clear. But since then, Silverman has made two stunning moves that demonstrate he's utterly unafraid to strip-mine the past if that ensures a better-rated future: the revival of Knight Rider, and, according to TV Week, the appointment of '80s wrestling icon and recently recycled VH1 celebreality star Hulk Hogan to American Gladiators hosting duty:

Hogan made the rounds at NBC's Burbank offices last week and has accepted the job. The deal is still being finalised, but sources say both parties are committed.

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As our review copy of Rosie O'Donnell's memoir appears to have gotten lost in the mail, we've had to settle for the modest trickle of leaks available in press coverage, where so far we've learned of Donald Trump's molluskan qualities and of childhood tea parties in which the self-exiled former View panelist would horrify her stuffed animal collection by crushing her metacarpals with a croquet mallet. Now USA Today provides the most comprehensive preview yet, including an interactive feature that allows you to click on a celebrity to read what Rosie wrote about them (apparently we all killed Anna Nicole!), and a review:

[A]s the warring co-hosts tried to make up, O'Donnell told [Barbara Walters]: "... you did not defend me. And I have been a good, loyal daughter to you. And I want you to be a good mother to me. Don't let the bad man hurt me." [...]

She also has fuzzy recollections of a man climbing in through her window as a child to molest her - until her mother cut down the tree.

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Perhaps not as obviously stirring as Angelina Jolie's kneebuckling tale of a disadvantaged child caregiver she'd encountered on her recent orphan-collecting travels, something about the quiet urgency with which the apple of Tony Micelli's eye entreats HuffPo readers to join her in a fight against a variety of little-known but easily curable Third World diseases moved us in equal measure. We urge the time-pressed to at the very least skim the Read More section, where they'll quickly get the crux of her arguments by scanning a grab bag of tags covering essential talking points "Charmed," "elephantiasis," "river blindness," and "Who's the Boss?"

• The Threat of Neglected Tropical Diseases [huffingtonpost.com]

Yesterday, the leadership of the Writers Guild sent out an e-mail blast asking its scribe army for strike authorisation, hoping that letting the entire industry know that they've requested the ballistic launch codes from their membership will force the studios to take their just-revived contract negotiations seriously:

"Since talks began on July 16, the companies have refused to engage in serious negotiations," the WGA said. "Instead, they have rejected each of our proposals and responded with a 'comprehensive' proposal of their own: 32 pages of draconian rollbacks that would eviscerate virtually every gain that writers have made in the past 50 years."

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· 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 favourite experience. Not free, but celebrity discount - half-off entrance to a club."
· We knew we'd seen that Spector look somewhere before.

· Confident that Medellin left enough of Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar's life unexplored to warrant another biopic, the Yari Film Group is fast-tracking passion project Killing Pablo (starring Javier Bardem in the role immortalised by Vinnie Chase), though they likely won't be able to squeeze it in before a possible strike next summer. [Variety]
· Comedy Central thinks that Carlos Mencia has at least ten more episodes' worth of Arab and Mexican jokes in him, renewing its inexplicably high-rated Mind of Mencia for a fourth season. [THR]

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For undoubtedly strategic reasons that may not become clear for months - or even years - Creative Artists Agency has allowed a Fortune magazine writer to infiltrate the Death Star and publish a lengthy piece on the current state of the evil agenting monolith. While the scribe obviously couldn't get anyone with concern for their personal or professional well-being on the record about the agency's seemingly neverending reign of terror (said one "half joking," anonymous studio head whose spouse, children, and career are certainly already dead: "I value my wife and kids. And I value my relationship to CAA. If they don't like this article and I'm quoted, there goes my first look at the best projects.") the scribe did get some face time with partners like Bryan Lourd, Richard Lovett, and Kevin Huvane, as well as fly-on-the-wall access to some shadowy rituals rarely witnessed by outsiders:

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