Check it, old school Neighbours fans - it's the Ramsay Street Olympics! Prepare to marvel at the athletic prowess of Erinsborough's most beloved residents (circa the late eighties) as you witness the following clashes!

- Scott v Mike in the swimming
- Madge v Mrs Mangel in the cycling
- Charlene v Jane in the roller skating
- Jim v Des in the sprinting

Bloody reporters. They're constantly going on about the importance of "facts" but they forgot to deliver one particularly important piece of information to the reader in this article regarding the Claremont Crapper (name Defamer Australia's own) - is he available to catch any woo we may perhaps decide to pitch his way? We don't want to tread on anyone's toes, you see...

A 28-year-old Claremont man repelled fellow passengers when he defecated repeatedly over the seats of a Metro bus, Hobart Magistrates' Court heard today.

The Hobart Mercury reports the court heard that John Dennis Dymond boarded the bus in Main Road, Claremont on May 1 last year.

The driver noticed Dymond went to the rear of the bus and moved from one seat to another in rapid succession, police prosecutor Jennifer Wood told the court.

After Dymond got off the bus, the driver discovered human excrement on the seats.

Bus security video footage showed Dymond defecating on several seats, checking the tail of his T-shirt and sniffing his fingers, the court heard.

Sounds like a finger lickin' good time, if you ask us. But we're suffering from a real lack of sleep today.

Also, are we alone in thinking Australia's Grubbiest sounds like the sort of Channel Ten special which'd be hosted by Sandra Sully or someone of that ilk?

(Yes, the photo we've used for this post isn't of the Claremont Crapper himself - it's one of the LOLMETAL pictures that made us laugh in a deranged manner and we felt like using it, so cease your judging).

This is probably the most interesting concept for a website we've come across in a while - caricatures of celebrities alongside a list of ingredients which would theoretically make you smell like the star in question!

Take Kate Moss for example...

Like the gentle waft of burnt matchsticks in a public lavatory, Kate Moss exudes a subtle, yet poignant stench. High pitch floral notes are all but lost on this denim vixen!

- Damp ashtray
- Grilled asparagus
- Lemon Verbena
- Juniper berries
- Mascara crusts
- Fresh linens
- Chanel No. 241
- Interior old leather pumps.

Roll into little balls of clay and drop them in your purse. These bad boys are more powerful than mothballs!

We love it! Bravo, Elspeth Tremblay. We hope to manipulate you into performing works of artistic mischief for Defamer Australia before the month is out... which means we have until this evening, we suppose.

· Earlier today, Oprah emerged from her Oprahphagus long enough to welcome the world's fastest clapper onto her show. While we haven't scientifically verified this, we're also betting he's the world's fastest masturbator.
· If you're wondering how one goes about getting kicked off the My Little Pony fan forum, here's a handy primer.
· Since when does Indiana Jones have a bazooka? This probably means that The Beouf will be wielding a flamethrower.
· Paris Hilton spent last night frenching Elisha Cuthbert in NYC. We can think of worse ways to spend a Tuesday night.
· And lastly, looks like we just might have a baby J. Lo by this time tomorrow. Happy happy joy joy (or something).

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It seems Dame Edna emerged from her sick bed (well, Barry Humphrey's anyway...) to soak up the theatrical Canuck brilliance of Rufus Wainwright. She had the following things to say about Amy Winehouse and Britney Spears.

The Moonee Ponds matron has advised Winehouse to "have her tattoos removed and get rid of that spooky-looking husband".

But she wouldn't even draw breath on Spears, saying, "I think advice is wasted on a non-entity like Britney".

That's it? That's your smackdown? Disappointing. Especially from the host who (according to one of our mates who thought it was pretty much the greatest thing ever) introduced Michael Bolton to her talk show recently with a quip along the lines of "He's someone who has had over a dozen hits... to his website."

We can think of no better way to cap off a Wednesday than by relaying for you all the details surrounding Katherine Heigl's overcompensating 28th birthday party for the new husband she completely took for granted on a recent Late Show with David Letterman appearance. We now bring you directly to the PEOPLE EXCLUSIVE report, live from the Katherine Heigl's-husband-appreciating birthday scene. (All hors d'oeuvre descriptions must exclusively credit PEOPLE EXCLUSIVE.):

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Long before Dr. Phil first browbeat a thick-headed Oprah couch-guest into taking control of her drug/weight/self-image problem (we think we've covered the likely bases there) and ushered in a bold new era of daytime TV tough-love, there was Montel Williams, who, unlike the aforementioned, shouty fake-doctor, hardly needed to raise his voice to let the troubled know it was time to shape up. Alas, the Montel Era is coming to a close at the completion the current season, the show's 17th. Maybe it's just our grief talking, but we feel like it's not the craziest thing to hope that Williams might soon be fielding a call from Barbara Walters, offering him a chance to be The View's first penis-bearring permanent co-host, as seemingly countless days listening to Sherri Shepherd's nonsense have finally made her consider shaking up their tired format. [USA Today.com]

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A reader from San Francisco sent us the link to their Flickr gallery documenting the Castro's transformation back to its 1970s heyday for the filming of Milk, including this first known shot of Sean Penn as the openly gay city supervisor, pictured on a prop election poster. For comparison, here's a shot of the real Harvey Milk outside the camera shop that acted as his campaign headquarters. The facial hair discrepancy suggests to us Penn decided to go Method-bear with his performance. [Flickr]

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Frankly, if you've been on the internet at all over the last year (and as you are reading this online, we'll presume you have been) you need no introduction to the concept of LOLCATS.

Now the world wide web offers up LOLMETAL.

See them all for yourself.

Well, if we're going to be completely honest, we suppose that headline could be construed as slightly misleading--for the treasure before you wasn't in fact a major archaeological discovery, sealed for thousands of years behind stacks of A Million Little Pieces in a crypt 20 stories beneath an Mesopotamian talk show studio.

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A few months ago, we learned that the BBC were creating a new Aussie soap called 'Out Of The Blue' to replace Neighbours, as the folks from Ramsay Street were moving over to another channel. Now we read Australians will be able to watch the show, for Channel Ten have excitedly grabbed the series for themselves.

Reports News Ltd -

The BBC commissioned the series last year after it lost rights to Neighbours to rival channel 5 in a deal worth $750 million over eight years. The BBC needed a replacement and ordered 130 episodes of the five night a week soap from Australian production company Southern Star Entertainment - but no local networks were involved.

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Defamer Australia, like most normal people, lost interest in the Corey Delaney Worthington story a couple of days after it broke. Kid has party, kid is a smart arse to smarmy television host and becomes world wide YouTube hit, kid gets arrested, kid continues to ride the publicity wave all the way to the bank... Exciting stuff, to be sure.

But when we heard Zoo Weekly were auctioning off his famous sunglasses, we thought two things.

1) If you bid and win Corey's stupid glasses, you are officially a fuckwit.

2) Is the money going to charity? Specifically, the Further Breast Enlargements For Krystal Forscutt Fund?

Now we learn Corey's been beaten up by a "gang" of teenagers (it's all Bloods and Crips out there at Fountain Gate shopping centre).

Party pest Corey Worthington has been caught on camera taking part in a "pre-arranged" fight with a group of teenagers near a Melbourne shopping centre. The Narre Warren teen was filmed on a mobile phone camera trading blows with other teenagers at a park near Fountain Gate shopping centre on Monday afternoon.

"Chris, give it to him," one onlooker is heard to say on the footage shown on Channel 9's A Current Affair last night.

An unnamed witness said a fight broke out and Chris started hitting Corey in the face.

"The fight broke out when I got to the oval. Chris started like hitting him in the face, kneeing him in the face," he said. "The group didn't like him.

"Corey walked past the group that didn't like him. It was a sort of planned fight. He came with all his friends to fight. He thinks he's all that because he's famous now."

Kids, eh?

Remember Stonie, the gay porn star whose jail-baity looks were capitalized upon by the makers of Borat, casting him as the Kazakh journeyman's naked teenage son in a series of sexually suggestive Polaroids? No? Then the fact that he just got a sex change (but will continue to pursue a career in the adult entertainment field) will probably do nothing for you. Still, makers of Bruno: He's She's one featured role away from earning a SAG card. Think about it. Link NSFW. [WOW Report]

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Hey, if Woody Allen can get away with schtupping his adopted daughter and later having one big happy family with her, surely rumored rascal Ethan Hawke can be forgiven for knocking up his (and Uma's) former nanny, right? The Gen X posterboy and girlfriend Ryan Shawhughes announced today that another baby Hawke is on the way, his third (Maya, 9, and Levon, 6, are his kids from his marriage to Uma). For those of you keeping score at home, this makes Hawke the third well-known actor (following David Spade and Matthew McConaughey) to spend the last few months of 2007 completely and totally rubberless. Congrats! [US Magazine]

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Though we did try to communicate the level of pre-release excitement that consumed us during the run-up to Friday's debut of Rambo by sharing charts and pointing out near-unanimous critical support for our breathless anticipation of what we were sure would prove an instant classic, we never got around to offering our post-screening thoughts on Sylvester Stallone's opus. But rather than bore you with fifteen uninterrupted, giddy minutes of mimicking the sound of heads burst like overripe watermelons by high-caliber machine-gun fire, allow us to instead substitute the above, more considered appraisal of the movie's merits by a leading online critic. Enjoy.

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With two armies of ladies fighting over Christian Brando's body, the debate over where to put the recently deceased son of Marlon to rest is now being fought on a very public stage. In order to help win the battle, both Anna Kashfi, Brando's mother, and his girlfriend Donna Geon have recruited others closely connected to the actor to support their wildly contradictory claims. Kashfi's posse (which also includes Brando's ex-wives Deborah Presley and Mary McKenna) thinks that Brando's body should be buried in Washington, because, well, we're not exactly sure (we think it's because he once lived there for awhile). But! Geon says Brando told her a different story, and she's pulled some half-siblings out of the woodwork to prove it.

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At today's court proceedings for The Wesley Snipes Totally Fucking Insane Tax-Avoidance Trial of the Century, the actor's lawyer conceded that while his client's statements about how he wound up in this unfortunate predicament might bear the faint whiff of batshit, the tensions between Snipes and the IRS are over honestly arrived-at "disagreements," not something uglier like "fraud." Reports the AP: "Defense attorney Robert Barnes conceded Snipes' arguments may have been crazy, but insisted that didn't make them criminal. 'Disagreement with the IRS is not fraud of the IRS, is not deception,' Barnes said. 'It was an attempt to engage the IRS, to go through the IRS procedures and processes and see who's right.'" [Yahoo! News]

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While American Idol positions itself as the greatest singing competition in the history of the world--and, let's face it...It is! It really is!--it also performs a crucial secondary service for which it too often goes uncredited: Introducing America to the Small Town Gay .

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· Encouraged by the good-enough numbers generated by viewers lured to Celebrity Apprentice by the depressing lack of programming alternatives, NBC greenlights a second season of Donald Trump's salvaged franchise. Calls are already flooding in from other lesser-Baldwins, starving reality-show alumni, and aging supermodels hoping to fill out the next installment's roster of semi-recognizable names. [Variety]
· Though Fox, powered by American Idol and The Moment of Truth, is rolling along during a strike-affected early 2008, this week the top five broadcasters are down 21% in the 18-49 demographic compared to the same period from last year. [Variety]

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Recognizing that striking writers could really use a positive story to lift their flagging spirits after enduring so many disheartening months of marching in circles and dodging the occasional vehicular manslaughter attempt by lead-footed studio employees, this week's LAT Scriptland column relates the inspiring tale of improbably named WGA member Billy Frolick, who, by accepting "a mysterious offer" to script a Ukranian animation project, suddenly found himself transported to a kind of Bizarro Hollywood where scribes were not only not regarded with typical scorn, but treated as royalty. We join our narrative in progress, as Frolick alights in Kiev to meet his new collaborators:

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Instruct your assistant to hold all your calls, poor yourself a tumbler of whiskey, and fire up the Bose Wave to ease you into haunting opening strums of Gustavo Santaolalla's "The Wings"--this next one's going to be a little rough. Sources from the New Mexico set of Jake Gyllenhaal's new movie Brothers tell People that the actor is "devastated" since learning of his Brokeback Mountain sharpshooting partner's death:

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Why the Today Show waited so long to combine massive martinis, Meredith Vieira and Martha Stewart into a segment is beyond us. After watching two of the most regal small screen dames tip back an early morning stiff one, we're ready to hand the producers a Daytime Emmy. The festivities began with Martha calmly asking Meredith if she'd prefer gin or vodka in her martini (no Cosmos for these boozehounds), Meredith got all flustered and said, "Uhhhh, whatever you recommend?!" Martha's suggestion? "I like vodka!"

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Continuing his obsessive quest to take the finest slasher films the 1970s and 80s had to offer and update them for an ADD-addled teen audience eager to see the stars of their favorite The CW melodramas eviscerated in a budget-conscious fashion on their local multiplex's big screen, leading Hollywood re-envisionary Michael Bay has convinced New Line to allow him to run the A Nightmare on Elm Street franchise through his Platinum Dunes dream-despoiling factory.

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Tough love guru in the media crosshairs Mr. Phil has broken his silence™ about the Britney Spears incident, speaking with Matt Lauer on The Today Show this morning. Since exploding onto the national stage as Oprah's motivational-speaking protégé, no other case has managed to so rattle the foundations of his "Talk Loudly At People Until They Do What You Tell Them To Do"-based therapy practice.

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All you needed to do was take one look at Angelina Jolie's SAG Awards gown, a billowy sail of silk charmeuse that could have easily smuggled a schoolhouseful of multicultural toddlers, to wonder if the actress wasn't perhaps camouflaging something beneath all of that fabric. The world, of course, was not caught entirely off guard: News of a possibly Jolie-Pitt twins pregnancy inched its way up the tabloid totem last week, up from the paparazzi blogosphere, into the pages of supermarket literature, and now arriving in the semi-legitimate pages of Us Weekly:

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At last night's sold-out, tranny-filled Kathy Griffin stand-up show at Madison Square Garden, Kath slayed the audience with a brand-new act that leaned heavily on Scientology skewering material. You see, one of Kathy's best friends was a Sex and the City writer/producer named Judy Toll, who died in 2002 from complications of melanoma. Toll joined Scientology in an attempt to network with bigwigs in the entertainment industry, but then swiftly realized that she needed to get out as fast as she could. Only prob? Anyone seeking an exit sign from Tom Cruise's House of Horrors needs, according to Griffin, "a lawyer who specializes in getting people out of cults."

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By now, we've all read various accounts of Sean Young's valiant attempt to inject some drama into this strike-plagued awards season, seen video of Les Moonves's wife's perky reenactment of the DGA ceremony's disruption, and learned that the troubled actress has retreated to rehab to combat the demons that emboldened her inner acceptance-speech critic to give voice to her frustrations with the pacing of The Diving Bell and the Butterfly director Julian Schnabel's humbly proffered thanks-yous.

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