Parents of Australian children can rest easy - Mel B won't be appearing onstage scaring their children with saucy tales of clitoral over-stimulation anytime soon, as news emerged over the weekend that the Spice Girls had decided to cancel their Down Under tour plans.

“We’ve had such an amazing time over the last three months,” said the Spice Girls in a statement (we figure they dictated the note in unison). “It’s been incredible being back together and seeing our fans again. We want to thank everyone who came to see us… Really sorry if we didn’t get to see you this time round. We all have other commitments in our lives now but who knows what will happen next.”

The statement teases that the group will be reviewing “options” and muses, “who knows what the future might bring!”? Rumours have been circulating that the group has been offered a huge offer from EMI to record another album, despite the fact that their comeback single “Headlines (Friendship Never Ends)” disappointed on the UK charts.

Regardless, the Girls will not be performing as planned in Australia, Argentina, and China.

As the brilliant No Rock and Roll Fun put it - Spice Girls discover 'family' more attractive than 'half empty halls'

Those "other commitments" in the Spice Girls' lives - what would they actually be, then? Is the Australian Dancing With The Stars refusing to take 'no' for an answer from Geri? Has Mel B decided she needs to drive up and down Eddy Murphy's street bellowing DNA test results? Is Victoria thinking that, damn it all, 2008 is the year she needs to finally tackle Anthony Powell's A Dance To The Music Of Time, and no excuses?

Australian fans are apparently taking the news rather badly.

Outraged Australian fans have lashed out at the Spice Girls after the group scrapped plans to tour Down Under.

"I am absolutely disgusted in them," a fan named Charm said. "Most of us have been waiting years for this and they have just ruined it all for us. As far as I am concerned, they have just lost another fan. So much for girl power."

Some branded the group liars.

"They have known all along when their kids go to school or whatever," Stace88 said. "It's a crappy excuse, really it's all just about money ... they've made enough now so who cares about anywhere else right?" Fans said they were upset that promoters kept promising concert dates. "How dare they get our hopes up by sending emails asking us how many tickets we wanted," Ezzy B said.

On the social networking site Facebook, two groups have started recruiting members, Spice Girls Suck for cancelling tour to Australia and Spice Girls Dogged Australia. Also circulating on the web is a picture of the group holding up a sign - "We Lie".

The website SpiceNews.com, which has been running since 1998, announced it was closing down.
"I can't support people who I don't respect, and I don't respect people who plainly screw over and lie to their fans, that being the Spice Girls," the site's administrator said.

Ballsy move, Spice Girls. Personally, we'd never toy with the emotions of Ezzy B, Charm, and Stace88.

· As a couple of different people have now pointed this out to us, we feel compelled to share: Before Matt Damon was fucking Sarah Silverman, he was all over Scotty's ladyfriend in Eurotrip. [via Lindsayism]
· Robert De Niro has come down with Obamamania.
· Learn all about new Britney Spears lawyer Adam Streisand's not-so-secret connection to another, much more famous Streisand! Yes, it's the one you're thinking of!
· Turner Classic Movies dares the WGA to stay on strike.

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There are two ways of looking at 20th Century Fox's decision not to air an ad for The Happening during the Super Bowl last night (the trailer debuted online today). The first is that the company made a financially savvy decision by choosing not to blow $2.7 million dollars on a thirty-second advertisement (like all those other studios did). The other is that the studio is feeling a bit gunshy on the financial prospects of Night's first film since the unmitigated disaster that was Lady In The Water. And as for which theory we think holds more water? We're going with the latter.

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Life behind the gleaming walls of the CAA Death Star, it should hardly surprise you to hear, is not all baby-buffets and games: Being the most powerful agenting force in the universe means that daily, high-stakes deals negotiated by employees with Vader-sized ambitions will occasionally require the building to fold in on itself and munch on one of its own. Which is precisely what happened to TV packager Michael Camacho after getting his hands a little to deeply inside the Oprahphagus. From Deadline Hollywood Daily:

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Earlier this afternoon, the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences welcomed awards hopefuls to its annual luncheon, where nominees are free to mingle with both colleagues and competitors in a low-pressure environment, enjoy a delicious meal, and generally bask in the glow of their potential Oscar glory. Perhaps infected with the giddy spirit of cautious optimism spreading through the industry following the new round of rumors about an impending, Oscars-salvaging deal between the WGA and AMPTP, today's event seemed like little more than a high-wattage nice-off to see who could offer the most vigorous reacharound to his or her peers, according to the LAT:

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Although we did recently declare a temporary moratorium on burger phone jokes, it is worth noting that a blogger who goes by the handle of Big Ross recently got his hands on a copy of Diablo Cody's first post-Juno script, entitled Jennifer's Body. Megan Fox (Transformers) and director Karyn Kusama (Aeon Flux) are attached to the horror/thriller about a cheerleader who somehow becomes possessed by a demonic spirt which compels her to start offing all of the dudes at her high school. And while we haven't actually seen the script ourselves, from what Big Ross describes, we feel pretty safe declaring that Diablo's streak of consecutive Oscar nominations will come to an end at one.

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[Warning: Some spoilers ahead.] There's been an ongoing There Will Be Blood debate over here at Defamer HQ, with one faction having emerged from the P.T. Anderson masterpiece convinced what we had just witnessed wasn't just a searing allegory encapsulating the epochal struggle between American capitalism and religion, but also some very kinky oil-prospector-daddy on boy-of-the-cloth goings-on. (OK, fine. That faction was us.)

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Continuing with our love of slightly camp children on YouTube, we offer you the following performance piece titled "He is a Princess!"

The bit where he's standing in front of the mirror playing with his skirt makes us feel as though we're quietly spying on a youth as they come to grips with their somewhat kinky side. There appears to be a storyline involved in this clip but we aren't really sure of what it is, other than that the somewhat dowdier (but still in women's clothing) version of the boy seems bored by his more flamboyant self's antics. We also note the lyrics in the Cascada soundtrack - "You cheated on my from behind"

Commenter hypernessncandy is unimpressed, declaring "is he thinks hes such a girl, lets see him try to do a split". Touche.

Despite seemingly insurmountable handicaps--the loss of his striking writers, an inability to find guests willing to risk being considered WGA-undermining picket-line crossers, and a hated timeslot nemesis working at full strength due to his own Guild side-deal, Jay Leno has, amazingly, continued to win the battle of late night since everyone returned to work in early January. Today's NY Times attempts to unlock the secrets of Leno's crazy-making success, noting that despite the lower quality of available seat-fillers, he's been able to do the same show he's always done by maintaining his usual output of tepid monologue jokes. Asked about Leno's ability to crank out dozens of gags per night without the benefit of his absent staff, defenders cite his impressive talent for passing off his stale, unfunny material as fresh:

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After a disastrous experiment two years ago that saw them toying with their rock-solid formula and instead letting Tom Ford indulge his creepiest, Scarlett Johansson-in-need-of-diapering impulses, Vanity Fair is back to doing what it does best: glamming up a small army of up-and-coming starlets and splashing them across the gatefold cover of their annual Hollywood Issue. This year's list: Emily Blunt, Amy Adams, Jessica Biel, Anne Hathaway, Alice Braga, Ellen Page, Zoë Saldana, Elizabeth Banks, Ginnifer Goodwin, and America Ferrera. Oh, be nice: Jessica Biel has every right to be there. Are you forgetting The Illusionist? And, uh, I Now Pronounce You Chuck & Larry? [Slashfilm, Vanity Fair]

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Yes, it was a helluva game. And yes, the Manning bros' simultaneous smiles were near-cinematic, as were Plaxico's tears. But unlike the rest of America, we opposed conformity and muted the game, not the commercials. Why? Brand spankin' new movie trailer debuts! And no offense to unlikely hero Eli, but even your wildcard win can't usurp any heat from the likes of Iron Man's Robert Downey Jr. clad in jet-powered metal or Adam Sandler's Israeli accent as a combat soldier-turned-hair-stylist in You Don't Mess With The Zohan. All six trailers shown (and then promptly dissected) after the jump.

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Paris Hilton's last appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman was, in no uncertain terms, one of the greatest moments in U.S. television history, to go up there with the moon landing, the final episode of M*A*S*H, and the entire run of Joe Millionaire in the annals of essential road-markers tracking the rise, fall, and eventual obliteration of a once-promising colonial social experiment.

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Though we've previously mentioned Point Break Live! a few times in our daily "to do" list, we (regrettably) still haven't made the trip to watch as one lucky audience member is asked to forget everything he or she knows about acting to reprise one of the most iconic roles in the history of the skydiving-surfer-heist-movie genre, Keanu Reeves' Johnny "I'm an F! B! I! Agent!" Utah. Our friends at Boing Boing, however, recently headed downtown with their camera, documenting for posterity the attempt of one "Klaus Pierre" to recreate that elusive Reevesian magic on-stage, an emotional failure from which the aspiring actor has surely not yet recovered.

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A warning to all athletes dating insanely hot famous women: you might want to think twice about allowing your ladyfriend anywhere near your player's box on Game Day. During yesterday's Super Bowl, Fox repeatedly cut to shots of New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady's supermodel girlfriend Gisele Bundchen enjoying the game from the comfort of a luxury suite. Unfortunately for Brady and the Patriots, all that bouncy clapping and ear-to-ear grinning (perfect Chicklet teeth notwithstanding) just might have done more harm than good.

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· According to Nielsen's preliminary overnight ratings, a record number of Super Bowl viewers tuned in to watch the Giants shock the world™ by upsetting the heavily favored, once-unbeatable-seeming Patriots, with 97.5 million people tuning in (and 105.9 million at its peak) for the game. The telecast may also finish as the second-most-watched event of all time, behind MASH's 1983 finale. [THR]
· Rewarding him for his ability to profitably resurrect the Rambo franchise, Nu Image/Millenium Films signs new international political icon Sylvester Stallone to write and direct two more action flicks; blogging convention dictates that we must identify these next projects as long-awaited sequels to films from his back catalog, like Cobras and Over the Top 2: Back Over the Top. [THR]

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Madonna is putting the final touches on her forthcoming album, due in stores April 29th, to be followed by a world tour in which the fauxtrage-exploiting pop icon will unveil her most blasphemous set-piece yet: A performance of "Papa Don't Preach" remixed to a dancehall beat, in which the singer will don a slutty, Gaultier-designed Mother Theresa habit, then proceed to be simulated-gang-banged by a group of background dancers outfitted as Jesus, Mohammed, Moses, and Martin Luther King. It promises to be nothing less than a show-stopper, but until then, we have her latest video, co-starring Timbaland and Justin Timberlake, to tide us over:

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Sylvester Stallone's Rambo, the writer/director's powerful documentary on a mysterious, monosyllabic American boatman's struggle to unseat the bloodthirsty military regime subjugating Myanmar, has struck such a chord within the country that its ruling junta is trying to stop the cinematic call-to-action from reaching Yangon's black-market DVD stalls, where it could incite widespread rebellion by those inspired by Stallone's rousing catchphrases:

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We fear that after Snoop's flawless performance as a warm and fuzzy "gangsta" on Larry King this past Friday, the ol' suspendered geezer/legend is gonna call one of his 89 doctors and request some of this "medical marijuana" Snoop waxes silkily about in this clip. In the final moments of the show, King, as usual, saves the only question we actually care about for last: Snoop, what's the deal with you and this 'pot' you continuously speak of? After a stoned-out-of-his-gourd grin, the father of three responds with, "I'm on medical marijuana as we speak." Righteous! We just hope that producers from the Martha Stewart show were watching. After all, can you imagine a more awesome hour of television than Martha and Snoop making and eating a whole plate of pot brownies?

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Because we know that you've been plagued by disturbing nightmares that The Wolf Man might not begin production on schedule following the announcement that creative-difference-haver Mark Romanek had exited the film at the 11th hour: Universal's search for a director is over! Despite rumors that the studio had fallen crazy-in-hacky-love with a certain visionary, they've instead chosen Joe "Hidalgo/Jurassic Park III" Johnston to deliver their hairy baby on time, dashing all our hopes of a Ratnerian reimagining (i.e., anachronistic--but nonetheless thrilling--lycanthrope car chases) of the project. Relieved of this psychic burden, you may now return to a more restful sleep. [Var]

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If one 30-second Super Bowl spot fetched $2.7 million, as we've been told approximately 2.7 million times going into this year's festivities, then our cursory calculations put the cost of this Bud Light/Semi-Pro crossover ad at somewhere around the $7.1 million mark.

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In case you were too consumed with your Super Bowl preparations to scroll through the scores of "THE STRIKE IS OVER!!!" e-mails filling up your BlackBerry, various reports touting "progress" fueled by a breakthrough in Friday's informal deal-chat surfaced over the weekend, filling Hollywood with the kind of cautious optimism the beaten-down residents of a crippled company town haven't allowed themselves to feel since the AMPTP's Nick Counter stormed away from negotiations after claiming that someone on the WGA negotiating team had given him "the stink-eye" back in early December, ushering in weeks of unrelenting gloom.

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As you and your loved one attempt to pry off the beer helmet that became glued to your head by a combination of sweat and Coors Light runoff, enjoy the weekend box office numbers:

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