· Dana Carvey. 100 voices. One ten minute Tonight Show interview. And none are the Church Lady. The mind reels. [Tonight Show]
· Now that's romance—Siegfried brought Roy a bouquet of tiger cubs to cheer him up! [AP]
· Ain't no party like a teenage boy/38-year-old-woman shower orgy 'cause a teenage boy/38-year-old-woman shower orgy don't stop! [TSG]
·That "office freakout" YouTube video was just viral marketing for Wanted. We should have figured that out when the guy throwing the computer monitors around paused to draw a tattoo on the sexy part of his co-worker's back. [Wired]
·"Dr. Drew meant no harm to Mr. Cruise and apologizes if his comments were hurtful," Pinsky's rep said in a statement. We'll get to the bottom of this when we talk to Dr. Drew on his radio show tomorrow at 12:40 p.m. PST—1260 on your AM dial! [People]

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There's no two ways about it, Meryl Streep is a national treasure. Even if she appears in forgettable dramas set on beaches, Lindsay Lohan vehicles, and yes, even in the same disastrous film as Hubbard Knight Tom Cruise, we forgive and forget. There are too few cheeky cougars who don't give a shit about best-dressed lists or husbands in Hollywood these days. So when we caught sight of this image, showing the 58-year old Oscar winner performing the elusive mid-air spread-eagle on the set of Mamma Mia, we even forgave the fact that she's appearing in Mamma Mia and fell even more in love.

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While we never expected Celebrity Circus to be a magical panacea that would cure us from the premature onset of the summer television doldrums, it's fair to say that we here at Defamer HQ were all more than a little bit pumped to watch last night's premiere. After all, as proud Gen Xers, we have fond, kitsch-filled memories of watching Lynda Carter dodge knives and William "The Greatest American Hero" Katt rock the shit out of the Giant Wheel Of Death. So when perfect '80s-storm plundering Ben Silverman announced plans earlier this year that NBC would be airing the show, we marked and calendars and began dusting off our bean bags and hot air popcorn poppers in preparation for what we thought was going to be an awesome night of television. But much to our dismay, our dreams were shattered when we found out that Celebrity Circus wasn't a one-time event where everyone comes together to celebrate the spirit of, well, circusness. Rather, we were hoodwinked into watching yet another entry in the tiresome reality "competition" genre, filled with yet another panel of judges with distracting accents and/or speech impediments. What a drag.

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Eater LA stumbled upon something as rare and precious as an Italian Deericorn recently, when a crew from MTV's The Hills wandered into a local restaurant they happened to be patronizing, followed moments later by that show's stars, Audrina Patridge and Justin Bobby. Turns out they were there to shoot a crucial dinner sequence between the two in which the topic of Korean BBQ was merely the pretext for a much deeper conversation regarding the speed that they, like, wanted to take their relationship. Plenty of photos were snapped revealing all the behind-the-scenes activity that goes into capturing just one moment of enhanced reality—more so than you ever might have realised, for moments after the crew zipped off to the next location, a dozen teamsters arrived to dismantle the entire restaurant and pack it into a truck idling outside.

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The NY Daily News makes a bold (and frightening) opening statement in their story published today regarding good girl Anne Hathaway and her very bad boy boyfriend, money-laundering, law suit magnet Raffaello Follieri: "You are who you date." While that statement may seem to be a bit elementary, they make a good point in Anne's case. No matter how charming she is on screen, how little she appears on the pages of tabloids or how impossible we find it to dislike her in any way, the fact remains that she is still with the sleazy mess of a man. And has been for years, despite all the trouble he's had with the law. And she's not the only major bankable goody two shoes actress lessening "her stock" by dating a guy who's far lower on the Hollywood totem pole: the piece also argues that Jennifer Aniston's summer fling with tattooed bed-hopper John Mayer is just as reputation damaging as Hathway's sketchy romance. So why are these beyond eligible bachelorettes digging through the back lot trash for love?

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For all his scribbling on his hands about coffee beans and occasionally writing overly ponderous epic rock songs, Chris Martin seems to have remained charmingly daft through his steep descent into the upper echelons of "celebrity" (see: famous rock band, famous wife).

For evidence, look no further than his latest Rolling Stone interview, which for some reason makes me think of Martine McCutcheon running off her mouth at No. 10 Downing Street in Love Actually (which in turn makes me think of Martine McCutcheon vomiting in Mick Hucknall's glorious ginger dreadlocks, but that's another story):

He admits that growing up he worried about being gay.

"It was more like, 'Oh s***, what if?', because was brought up to think it was wrong," he told Rolling Stone.

"But then it struck me: who gives a s**t? And then it wasn't a problem.

"It sounds silly to say it now, but when you're a kid you think, 'I'm going to burn in hell for eternity if I like other guys or if I marry someone Jewish'."

But he eventually calmed down when he realized he was heterosexual.

"I was swayed by boobs," he says. "Let's face it, they're fantastic." Even so, it was not until he was 22 that he finally lost his virginity.

"There were religious issues and s**t like that," he says, adding: "Also confidence. I had a tricky time with girls.

"I got trapped in the friendship tip many, many times.

"I don't want to be the person that makes everyone laugh before they go off and bang. I want to be the guy that everybody bangs." He says that was the key driving force in his career course.

Actually scratch the Martine reference; he's more like that kid on the insurance ad who tells the story about a crocodile that came up and bit his guts out.

No wonder Gwyneth is so into yoga and meditation and macrobiotic rice milk, if this is the sort of chatterbox she has to put up with at home!

Since this seems to have been the week of reader stats "hilarity", I might as well continue the theme and just go for broke until, as our sage Editor once said, it's the weekend and we're free to drink until we fall over.

So, without further ado, I present to you a possible challenge for the Brisbane Times' "Most Mildly Amusing, Like For While-You're-Having-Your-Morning-Coffee-Break-Amusing, Most-Read Articles' crown: step right up, AdelaideNow!

Before any Adelaideans put down their cheese chunks and chardonnay to politely tell me that AdelaideNow is an online-only "paper", I say a polite IT DOESN'T MATTER. There are still people, in Adelaide, furiously clicking on stories like "Sex Romp In Church Confessional".

Keep up the cats, Adelaide, keep them way up!

After the "OMG YAY" response when it was revealed that Summer Heights High would screen in the UK came the inevitably agonising wait, a lá Kath & Kim, to see if the Brits would actually dig Chris Lilley's rather particular brand of humour.

Well, the reviews are in, and they're... well, best to let them speak for themselves, I think.

Times reviewer Andrew Billen writes that the mockumentary style is 20 years old. He says "the script had its moments but Lilley needed to cast someone other than himself in the plum parts".

"It was like seeing Ricky Gervais (of The Office) play Brent, Gareth and Dawn. Virtuosity is good, Chris. Funny is even better." Billen gives it two out of five stars.

...

Britain's The Mirror is favourable, saying: "The program has the witty absurdity of Arrested Development, the garish characters of Kath & Kim and the cringe-making behaviour of The Office."

However, reviewer David Belcher, of Scotland's The Herald, is less impressed.

"Summer Heights High is a richly detailed and determinedly offensive creation," he writes. "At the same time, it's a bit too studied, and not as shocking as it wants to be. Nor as funny."

Okay, everyone set your watches, the countdown to certain tabloid newspapers (who shall remain nameless) crying foul and whingeing about how they just don't understand Australian comedy/noting that Chris Lilley didn't "win" the critics' favour starts... now!

If you haven't either been to or watched the ARIA Hall of Fame ceremony, know that in its short lifespan as a stand-alone awards night, it has far surpassed its bratty sibling as one of Australia's best nights of industry back-slapping entertainment, tear-jerking speeches and excellent performances.

This year looks likely to carry that tradition, with today's presser announcing the final inductee, Rolf Harris, bringing the full "cast" of the evening's gong-giving to Harris, Russel Morris, Dragon, The Triffids and Max Merrit - and John Laws.

But silence that chorus of "WTF?!" - old Lawsie has been a long-time champion of calling gay icons names country music, and will be given the Lifetime Achievement award (which has in the past gone to industry luminaries like Michael Gudinski). Sayeth the press release:

This year's recipient, JOHN LAWS, is widely credited with playing a major role in either helping break or elevate the careers of country stars ranging from relative newcomers such as Lee Kernaghan and Troy Cassar-Daley, right back to local pioneers including Slim Dusty and Reg Lindsay. Local country music icon John Williamson, who is also president of the Country Music Association of Australia, was such a regular on Laws' shows that the broadcaster nicknamed him "my little brother".

So there you have it, sports fans. This year's Hall Of Fame ceremony will be held at the Melbourne Town Hall on July 1st, and broadcast on VH1.

If you're among the five or six people who saw Bandidas, the 2006 Bonnie & Clyde: The Girl-On-Girl Edition! bomb co-starring Penelope Cruz and Salma Hayek, the first thing you should be is ashamed of yourself. Now that we've scolded you, it's time to learn the possible reason why the "comedy" caper was so downright awful. Yes, Salma and Penelope wore very cute little pink lacy numbers, the film had a scene featuring Hayek jumping spread-eagle on to a horse, and Steve Zahn provided some slight comic relief just by being in the damn thing, but a revelation involving where the two chicas called home while filming may explain why the film went awry: "The stars slept at a [cocaine] trafficker's house for several days during the 2006 shoot. The property belonged to Sergio Villareal Barragán, known as 'El Grande' or the 'Big One.'" We took a look back at the cringy trailer to see if there may be any truth to the suggestive allegations that Salma and Penelope spent some time living the glamorous drug den life while on set.

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After several weeks of sifting through the country's aspiring hoofers—eliminating, where necessary, any contestant they deemed perhaps better suited to Kevin Bacon stand-in work than a televised dance competition—So You Think You Can Dance finally paraded its top 20 before America last night for an unforgettable evening of high-kicking, rack-shaking, and hair-flinging. And that was just the boys! While the proceedings don't quite have the premium patina of sister-competition American Idol, both shows share something special in executive producer Nigel Lythgoe—who also serves here in the capacity of exacting judge, compassionate mentor, and sass-friendly father figure. In the above montage by Molly McAleer, we've compiled Lythgoe's greatest* opening night moments—which, in a promising sign for the season, were literally all of them. Oh, Naaaahjel, Nahhhjel—we just love that Southern attitude, too! And to think—thanks to SYTYCD, there's a chance hip-hop contestant Twitch might be allowed to come off the streets and actually enter a Broadway theatre! Now that's change we can believe in.

*We define "greatest" here to mean most offensive, unsettling, and just flat-out bizarre. [SYTYCD]

• WATCH VIDEO

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In a "candid Q & A" with a still-pregnant-as-of-press-time Saint Angelina, EW covers a great many topics, but it was their bold line of questioning regarding a mysterious apparition that most interested us. Like the face of the pillow-lipped, orphan-collecting altruist herself, whom we recently discovered on a sacred Eggo waffle (and which we ended up smothering in syrup and consuming against our better judgment), a tattoo appeared seemingly out of nowhere on the lower back of her genetically perfect life-partner, Brad Pitt. It's meaning was not known. Some postulated that it might be an ancient map leading to a lost glass-headed alien temple deep in the South American jungle. We ourselves thought we had cracked the Brad Coinslot Code when an anonymous caller with an impenetrably thick Italian accent phoned in a bogus tip. As it turns out, however, it was nothing quite so arcane:

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There's no denying Lindsay Lohan's "thriller" I Know Who Killed Me was among the most critically and commercially reviled B-movies of last year — of any year, really. But now that IKWKM is approaching cable oblivion with its premiere June 14 on Starz, we doubt our inbox has ever seen a publicity campaign this wonderfully defensive or reactionary — almost Warholesque in its celebration of its own product's awfulness, proudly emphasizing its Razzie Award cred and critical pull quotes exhorting viewers to check out "a disaster that exerts a perverse fascination" (Variety) or "the monumental trashiness of this mess" (NY Daily News).

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