We were reading this story this afternoon, about a transgender man who reportedly kept his female sex organs and is now pregnant, and really marvelling at the wonderful fluidity of modern gender roles and relationships.

That was, until we got to the end of the piece and the "staff writers" had to go and stuff it all up with this clanger in the closing paragraph:

Mr Beatie doesn't appear to be the first "pregnant" male. See the story of Mr Lee Mingwei who is apparently the first born male to give birth to a baby from his body.

The thing is, if the News Ltd clowns had bothered to take the time to head over to urban legend and online hoax database Snopes, they would have found that Mr Lee Mingwei is to male pregnancy as "free c1al1s!" is to the hopes and dreams of flaccid systems engineers everywhere.

Go team! Keep on kicking them journalistic goals!

· The secret Tom Cruise Scientology video gets immortalised in Superhero Movie with perhaps the best impression we've seen yet, courtesy of astonishing Cruise-alike Miles Fisher. Seriously--someone give this lusciously be-eyebrowed kid a shot at a legit career! [superhero-movie.net]
· Someone sent in this picture of a framed portrait of Alan Thicke and family, spotted hanging in the window of a store in Pasadena. We find it terrifying. [Flickr]
· Steve McQueen's estate sues a clothing company for plastering the legendary tough-guy's face on a line of poser clothing that would eventually end up on people like Ryan Seacrest. [Reuters]
· Tina Fey's dream 30 Rock guest is Oprah, playing her best friend. She'd also happily work with Britney Spears again, whom she describes as "very professional and nice," standing in stark contrast to Paris Hilton, whom she likens to a morsel of excrement [USA Today]
· Please do not eat the Icelandic pony. [blog.icelandexpress.com]

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Brangelina has yet to officially support any of the current presidential candidates, but now that they have learned that they're related to two of them, we can expect that an endorsement (or two!) is forthcoming. According to the New England Historic Genealogical Society, Brad Pitt is "ninth cousins" with Barack Obama, and Angelina Jolie is coincidentally "ninth cousins" with Hillary Clinton. So will the couple happily add the Dems to their "soccer team" or will the wildly varying family trees tear 'em apart? After a bit of research, we discovered that even if the pair did welcome them into their many homes with welcome arms, one of the candidates isn't quite as enraptured with the Jolie-Pitts as the rest of the world...

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Today marks the first edition of "The Hills: Words Of Wisdom," a new weekly feature in which the bleached blonde cast of "real people" indulges us with life lessons worth learning. On last night's Season Four premiere, the one-hour chickfest was jam-packed with girly fever, tears, ruined dresses, dates with French rockers, and Spencer's Lucy Ball 'do. But the most important thing to take away from all that femitude is the wise words of heroines Lauren Conrad, Whitney Port and former meth addict Stephanie Pratt. This show is more than just quick flashes of fancy parties and shoes, combined with solemn pouts over which guy to tease; The Hills is the modern day version of Emily Post's guide to good etiquette. Thanks to the keen skills of Intrepid Defamer Videographer™ Molly McAleer, now you can learn just what to do when you feel nauseous over the loss of designer shoes ("breathe"), whether or not boys are hotter in LA or Paris ("way hotter in Paris"), and most importantly, how to successfully mount a motorcycle while wearing a dress worth more than your house. [MTV]

• WATCH VIDEO

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We weren't even aware that Channel 9 had nicked the Wheel Of Fortune format from Channel 7, but there it wuz, and apparetly not only are those at Stokes HQ having a big old cry about it (despite the fact that they didn't exactly stoke the Fortune fires; maybe it's one of those "we don't want you but we don't want anyone else to have you" things), but "Baby" John Burgess, he of the 'golden era' of the dizziness-inducing gameshow, is also sooking!

We're not particularly concerned by the career woes of superannuated old showbiz types, but we do like the way in which he celebrated his angst:

"I was told 'Burgo, if we get hold of it, you'll be doing it.' Well they've forgotten about me. Tim Campbell's doing it and I'm sure he'll do a terrific job, but I must admit I am just slightly gutted" he said, before playing Toni Braxton's Unbreak My Heart.

It should be noted, however, that he was actually presenting on the radio at the time, not just randomly ringing journalists, while sitting next to a stereo playing sad AOR ballads and wearing lipstick like Steve Buscemi in Billy Madison. More's the pity.

If there's one constant in this fickle, fickle world of ours, it's that Derryn Hinch will, without fail, find the time to insult, upset and scandalise those around him. And he's particularly fond, it seems, of doing this when the object of his waffling is no longer around to defend themselves.

To wit, he's now sounding off about what he sees as the cause of his late 3AW colleague Clinton Grybas' sad and sudden death earlier in the year at the age of 35. Naturally, Grybas' family (and no doubt doctors) have refuted Hinch's soundbites.

All together now: DERRRYYYYYNN!

The family of football commentator Clinton Grybas has lashed out at radio host Derryn Hinch after he announced his former 3AW colleague died from a food allergy and heart condition.

The talented Victorian sport broadcaster's parents angrily denied the allergy claim.

Yesterday, an upset Sandra Grybas insisted the exact cause of her son's death remained a mystery. Mrs Grybas said a coroner had painted a possible scenario, but she declined to divulge the information.

"It's all rumour and innuendo, and we have nothing to say," she said.

Grybas father, Vic, said: "The coroner found it was unable to be ascertained."

Mr Hinch reported a coroner had found the combined effects of an allergy to something he ate or drank the night before and a faulty heart valve had claimed Grybas's life.

Seriously, Hinchy - don't you think cruising the obituaries for material is a bit... naff? Particularly when they were your colleagues! Heaven forbid he actually talk about things that are, you know, current and not to do with speculation and innuendo.

To be honest we'd completely forgotten about "hilarious" National Bingo Night "Bingo Commissioner" Tanveer Ahmed - you know, "Nooooo bingo!" dude, who was probably made more memorable by his frequent unauthorised appearances on The Chaser.

He hasn't forgotten his own importance, however, and is railing against the organisers of the Logie Awards, because the "Ball Room Girl" has been nom'd and he hasn't. This, apparently, constitutes great "injustice". Read and learn, kids:

"The process of selection for Logie nominees must be called into question when the Bingo Commissioner [him] gets knocked back behind Renee Bargh, the ball girl," he railed.

"Realistically, the show flopped but the popularity and impact of the Bingo referee character [him again] was far beyond the short lifespan and lukewarm ratings of the program."

Anyone want to place bets on a Falling Down-esque public meltdown soon? He'll probably go on an indiscriminate rampage, burning down bingo halls and shouting, "The Bingo Commissioner just wanted a time to shine! Is that too much to ask?!"

Generation Rx sounded pretty cool when the term was first coined, but now that Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Britney and Lindsay have all boarded the Adderall bandwagon, we fear the pill-popping twenty-something crowd has officially snorted the shark. According to reports in both the New York Daily News and on abc.com, crushing the little blue pills and snorting them is the oh-so-coolest way to stay skinny, replacing old time faves caffeine, cigs and (if you're adventurous) cocaine. But just as we started hating on all the celebs using the pill-of-the-week to lose weight, we read a bit more about who else in Hollywood is hooked on the jitterbuggy meds. After the jump, learn which highest of highbrow actresses is also suspected of Adderall addiction:

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Filmmaker Anthony Minghella is staying in the news a week after his death, with Defamer learning that Elizabeth director Shekhar Kapur will complete Minghella's portion of the currently filming omnibus project New York, I Love You. A rep for the project confirmed that Minghella handpicked Kapur prior to undergoing the fateful March 18 operation to treat his tonsil cancer. "He knew he was going into surgery and was unsure of whether or not he would recover fast enough to be able to direct the film," Defamer was told this afternoon. "The production team obviously all hoped Anthony would recover, but they were relieved he had chosen someone of his own to direct the piece he wrote. It worked out well for all the parties."

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George Lucas is still traumatized by the sullen faces of Star Wars fans who filed out of the first preview screenings of The Phantom Menace, and, spotting its jittery director standing by the exit, spit, "You ruined Christmas, my childhood, and Life Day!" before whipping their crumpled comments cards at his head. So it's not terribly surprising to learn that the producer of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull is taking a far more tempered, "Hey, Indy fans: Let's just try to remember this is just a movie...and the originals weren't even that great to begin with!"-approach to his latest revisiting of a devoutly worshiped franchise:

"When you do a movie like this, a sequel that's very, very anticipated, people anticipate ultimately that it's going to be the Second Coming," Lucas says.

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Having done our homework about dedicated Hollywood recluses over the last few days, we can assert with 100 percent certainty that despite her disappearance after the Park City clusterfuck that was Hounddog, Dakota Fanning is no John Hughes or Terrence Malick. Nevertheless, while this somewhat frightening video passed along by MTV (with its insistent English narrator positing: "Was she scared off by the negative press for Hounddog, or did she simply run and hide because she hit that awkward pubescent stage? Because it seems like all the little girl roles lately have been filled by others!") helps allay our worst DakotAWOL fears, what replaces them is perhaps eerier than any exile we could have imagined.

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The Bachelor's movable harem made a pit-stop in Vegas last night for the second of two group dates. To be quite frank, the entire enterprise took a dive towards the mundane after being robbed of the effervescent presence of Bachelors in Nutrition-holding contestant Stacey, whose undiscovered-disease-curing ambitions could one day save millions of lives lost to cancer's even deadlier sequel.

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Remember when A.C. Slater used to strut around The Max in his orange short shorts and sweat-drenched wrestling muscle tees? All while dousing the rest of the cast with the greasy goo dangling from his curly mullet? And how much it kinda grossed you out to the point where you decided from then on you would never, under any circumstances, be attracted to dimpled, mullet-wearing wrestlers? Well, Defamer would like to officially announce that things have changed. Mario Lopez is no longer a bicycle-pants wearing meathead, he's a bonafide contestant for Best Male Body In The Universe. And he's got a new workout book to prove it! But we decided to go ahead and compare the original AC to the new and improved Mario, just to clarify exactly how far he's come. The before and afters, in all their muscly glory, after the jump:

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The Spears family is never short on surprises, and today's announcement that Juno Lynn Spears' sperminator Casey Aldridge will go from babydaddy to fiance is one of the most pleasant ones we've heard in years. Casey, who's all of 18, apparently gifted Jamie-Lynn with the extraordinarily detailed-in-description "rock" a few days ago, and People reports that Spears has been flashing it around ever since to friends and family. All we're left wondering is what kind of party the heavily preggers Jamie Lynn will throw come April 2nd, the date of her 17th birthday. Our suggestion? An Abba-themed 70s dance-a-thon, during which JL will sing/cry her way through "Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeeeeeen" over and over and over. [People]

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Having many years ago traded our shitkicking, bar-brawling days for a pastier, stir-crazy life of bloggy servitude, our bittersweet tears of joy welcome this violent throwback to the good times. To wit: Apparently upset with a scene-stealing drunkard crashing her performance at Austin's Saxon Pub, country-fu pioneer (and Willie Nelson offspring) Paula Nelson landed a kick that commenced a fantastic Lone Star ass-whuppin'.

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What would happen if you made a gorgeous mesh of Larry King, Regis Philbin, Oprah Winfrey, Dick Clark and Rupert Murdoch? Other than having one hell of a botox bill on your hands, you'd have the burgeoning boy wonder that is Ryan Seacrest. After years spent being bullied by the media (for being quasi-femme, for "dating" Teri Hatcher) and Simon Cowell (for being "yappy little chihuahua"), he is now being applauded for his ambitions to become "the Dick Clark, Larry King and Merv Griffin for a new generation." But how did the Chicklet-toothed boy from Atlanta who used to make Casey Kasem videos in his bedroom at the age of 8 manage to (gulp) win us over?

"I've never had any work done. I've had a facial or two because I've got to get that makeup out of my pores. Otherwise, I'll look like Pizza Face."

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Picking up on director John Hughes where our recent appreciations, laments and inquiries left off, Patrick Goldstein today has a more sweeping survey of the prolific filmmaker-turned-Great Lakes recluse. Of course we all know he's missed, as Goldstein's sources avowedly confirm (and despite his pseudonymous, decades-old contributions to Drillbit Taylor). But with little apparent likelihood for the director to return to work, we at Defamer are compelled to take matters into our own hands with our ambitious John Hughes Q&A Challenge. Allow us to explain after the jump.

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Last night, Britney Spears returned to her legitimate sitcom stunt-casting roots for the first time since her Will & Grace guest spot of two years ago. This go-around, she was called upon by lesser-threatening CBS comedy How I Met Your Mother to play Abby, a dermatologist's receptionist smitten with the show's main character.

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Judging by the ensembles worn by the Scientologist-heavy crowd at one of LA Fashion Week's recent shows, all those interrogations via E-meter and "detox programs" required to be a full-fledged Clear do not include any lessons on how to dress oneself. At Smashbox Studios yesterday, Giovanni Ribisi's sister Marissa debuted her Whitney Kros clothing line, and all a whole smattering of outed B and C-List Scientologists showed up to support the Scientologist designer. There was good ole Tom Cruise Rejectee Erika Christensen dressed in a shapeless fiery muumuu, Juliette Lewis in Hammer shorts, and Jenna Elfman wearing some kind of '80s era sweater that looks like it was hoisted from the Breakfast Club wardrobe department. More pictures, and our ideas on why the "A-List" Scientlebrities weren't there to support the cause, after the jump.

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After last weekend's flash of rebellion threatening to engulf parents' basements across America with smoldering dork rage, the Weinstein Company announced late Monday that it would in fact release the Star Wars-devotee dramedy Fanboys on DVD in both a cancer-subplot-free edit and the original, disease-of-the-geek version preferred by the angry fans at StopDarthWeinstein.com. But that's not enough for the fanboy offensive, who lashed out in protest yet again this morning:

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George Clooney's old-timey small town whistle-stop tour to promote Leatherheads made a stop at his home town of Maysville, Ky. yesterday (he's really from Augusta, Ky., pop. 2004). There he was mobbed by 3,000 fans, for many of whom this was the single most exciting event in their lives since corn-mulching went automated. Unfortunately, some confusion at the People.com editorial desk led to the site misidentifying the movie as "Leathernecks," a seemingly minor inaccuracy which could have led to mass confusion when thousands of moviegoers showed up to his period screwball comedy expecting yet another of Clooney's trademark probing dramas, this one about the 2008 Republican primary.

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Ever the upstanding arbiters of non-breaking, debunked news, The Sun today is all over The Lindsay Lohan Sex Tape That Wasn't, going as far as to say Lohan so vehemently protested ex-boyfriend Calum Best's (non-)indiscretion in not just one but two aggrieved phone calls. Because that will show him not to do what he, er, didn't:

A source, who overheard the rant, said Lindsay was screaming: I can't believe you would ever f***ing do this to me, I should have listened to everyone. I should never have f***ing trusted you."

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