Thanks to reader Johnny for pointing out that audio of the Derryn Hinch/Mick Gatto on air slapfight is now available on YouTube.

Hilarious - I love the bit where Mick Gatto's comeback to being called scum is "You wanna take a look in the mirror, and you'll see what scum is. You see what scum is if you look in the mirror, mate, cause you are scum."

VINTAGE 'I KNOW YOU ARE, YOU SAID YOU ARE, BUT WHAT AM I?' RIPOSTE!

· We defy you to watch Tyra Banks's Daytime Emmys acceptance speech for Best Talk Show (Informative) without getting a little bit moist-eyed. We especially liked her shout-out to Oprah, whose crown she's clearly claiming. You usurp, girl! [Tyra]
· Well, that was fun while it lasted: "This site has been closed. LucasFilm has asked us to remove this site. We have enjoyed seeing the tens of thousands of users over the past several days, and thank you for your interest." [StarWarsCrawl.com]
· Vassup! 105 people were invited to become voting members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, including Sacha Baron Cohen and Judd Apatow. [oscars.org]
· Dody Goodman, aka the fumbling Rydell High P.A.-system-xylophonist Blanche from Grease, also passed yesterday, at age 93. [USA Today]
· Heidi Montag has a single called "Fashion." It's the "greatest song of my life," says partner Spencer Pratt, who suffers from a rare neurological disorder which causes him to love the sound of a cat being cranked through a Vocoder-equipped meat grinder. [Us Magazine]

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Just when Hollywood has seemingly runs out of ideas, it appears that the city of Los Angeles has also run out of dateable men. Two of Tinseltown's most eligible bachelorettes, Jennifer Aniston and Cameron Diaz, have searched far and wide for the right arm candy, only to wind up scraping the bottom of the boy barrel. And their respective plights have gotten so dismal that the "sex-obsessed" blonde and "clingy" brunette are now swapping leftovers. As we already know far too well, Aniston has been gritting her teeth through this summer's most mysterious celebrity relationship with John Mayer, one of Diaz's former flings. And rumours earlier this month linking Diaz to a certain cokehead model have gained credibility after the actress was photographed out and about with the pretty-but-pretty-dumb Paul Sculfor. But the tale turns even more tragic: yet another sorry excuse for a man has nailed both A-listers, and managed to walk away the winner:

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Surprising absolutely no one, yesterday underworld figure Mick Gatto fired up and cut loose with threats and jibes toward Derryn Hinch after being insulted on air by the 3AW shock jock.

I think my favourite aspect of this whole story is that the pair apparently both happened to have a copy of Paul Keating's Guide To Verbal Fisticuffs handy when their radio tussle kicked off.

Hinch, fresh from a two-week holiday, opened his program on Fairfax radio station 3AW attacking the celebrity status attained by Melbourne underworld figures, including Gatto, particularly since the Nine Network drama Underbelly aired outside Victoria.

The scathing editorial prompted Gatto to phone in.

"You are scum, and I tell you what, I have a punching bag at home with your name on it and I punch the s*** out of it," Gatto told Hinch.

Hinch hit back.

"If burning you is my job in life, I'll be more than happy to do it. I think you and all your ilk and all your mob and the Carlton Crew and the Carl Williamses of this world, you are all scum."

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Now comes that portion of the broadcast where we break from our hard-hitting coverage of celebrity lingerie purchases and NBA ass-tastings to focus instead on what really matters: Bringing you, the lot-bound drone in desperate need of human connection, in contact with your perfect match. We turn to the always-fertile singles' mingling grounds of Craigslist for our latest bachelor offering, a pent-up fellow currently finding it hard to concentrate on his duties at Sony Culver Studios [NSFW] :

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It's been rumoured since the show went off the air two years ago, but it looks the Arrested Development movie is finally a go. While in the UK to promote his upcoming role in the Will Smith vehicle Hancock, costar Jason Bateman let slip that the embattled Bluths are finally reuniting on the big screen:

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We've never known David Cronenberg to pull any punches, which is why we're more than a little skeptical of the Rosanna Arquette Crash BreastMilkGate scandal presently unfolding thanks to Page Six. It all goes back to 1996, when the actress joined Cronenberg's infamous NC-17 paean to car-crash sexuality less than a year after giving birth to her first daughter. The director, whose handling of everything from mutant children to maggot babies over the years seemed so normal until then, later gave the elder, breastfeeding Arquette a long once-over before her sex in the wreckage with James Spader:

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Last night's episode of Living Lohan was filled to the brim with heartbreak. Emotions, both minutely real and highly fake, were on display for the cameras. The actual sound of Dina's skin cracking as her now-infamous crocodile tears struggled to liquefy was audible. And, as every Dina-phile knows, each opportunity to feign care for her cherished cash cow kids brings another lesson from the one and only Mother of the Century. After watching Dina and her brood prepare for a wild 'n crazy trip to Las Vegas that may or may not be ruined by lovable lush/I Know Who Killed Me fan Nana Lohan, Defamer Video Vixen Molly McAleer plucked three classic family values as illustrated by Dina herself:

1) Always Take Your Children's Needs Into Consideration. Except When You're 'Bout To Get Your Party On In Vegas! As the doomed 11-year old Cody quietly requests to remain home with his friends rather than follow Dina and Ali around as they con rich gamblers like Sigourney Weaver and Jennifer Love Hewitt in Heartbreakers, Dina smartly responds by laughing in his face, confessing "privately" to the entire world that her children do not have generic, boring human abilities like "choice." Thoroughly humiliated, talking back is no longer an option — job well done.

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ARGH! REMEMBER HOW AMAZING CUSTARD WERE?

I was looking for clips for the first and second album, but no dice. Love you, Dave McCormack!

Well, how things change when you don't care enough about a person to keep tabs on their personal life. Last time we checked in with Australian starlet Teresa Palmer, in January, she was getting her hands all over the nerdalicious Adam "Seth Cohen" Brody.

However, it seems Palmer is keen to, if at all possible, decrease her powers of recognisability (it's totally a real word, dumheads) on her home shores by hooking up with a decidedly less local-tabloid-baiting dude - so much so that it was up to The Sun to tell us all about it.

Step right up, Russell Brand!

Randy Russ is on holiday in Mexico with sexy Aussie Teresa Palmer - who got steamy with Daniel [Radcliffe] in 2007 movie December Boys.

The comic, sporting a pair of skimpy blue shorts, put a protective hand on his girl's shoulder while the pair had fun on the beach before Teresa went for a dip.

An onlooker revealed: "They looked like any loved-up couple on holiday.

"If I didn't know about Russell's reputation I'd be sure it was serious."

So there you have it.

If you listen very carefully you might hear the faint, distant noise of a cadet at the News Ltd stable suggesting this might be a good gossip piece, then being shouted out of the office and told to go get grande latte soy mochacinos for the entire editorial staff.

Ah, the blind item. Is there any other gossip variety that promises so much while risking so little? Damn you, Rush and Molloy, and your mystifyingly anonymous puzzlers, better suited for stenciling along a child's bookcase in a Yuppie House of Mysteries than for print. Nevertheless, out with your Blind Item Decoder Rings, everyone. It's now up to you, the endlessly clever membership of The Official Defamer Detectives Club®, to get to the bottom of The Case of The Gay Divorcé:

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The answer to the question posed by that title is naturally, "TABLOID HEAVEN!"

But first of all, remember Blue? They had that vaguely legalese-related "hit" song All Rise, did a bad cover of Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm Yours (which they somehow managed to convince both Stevie Wonder and Jill Scott to appear on), and Lee Ryan from the band offended just about everyone by whining, immediately post-9/11, "Who gives a f--k about New York when elephants are being killed?"

If any of those career "highlights" ring your bells, you'll be pleased as punch with this little corker from the Daily Mail:

Former boyband star Lee Ryan is expecting a baby with a fan who sent him revealing pictures of herself on the internet.

The Blue singer has fallen head over heels for Samantha Miller and the pair are planning to marry.

Ryan began dating the 20-year-old blonde after she posted a number of sexy photographs on his MySpace page.

The 25-year-old - who was previously engaged to Atomic Kitten star Liz McClarnon - asked her out on a date immediately and twosome have been inseparable since.

'He described the pictures as "well hot,"' a friend told the Sunday Mirror.

Doesn't that just warm the cockles of your heart? If only romance was as easy for the rest of us as posting some "well hot" pictures on MySpace and then snaring yourself a washed-up pretty boy!

Evidently Miller "was a huge fan of the group and even had a poster of Ryan on her bedroom wall". See? Dreams can come true! Just ask Katie Holmes! Who'll tell you they then turn into nightmares.

Pity Anna Nicole Smith's one-year-old daughter Dannielynn, who will grow up never having known her exhaustively documented mother. A tragedy to be sure, but one that fame-hungry babydaddy Larry Birkhead is determined to resolve in the most unorthodox fashion possible. If only there were some way (besides granting paid exclusives to The Insider) he could show Dannielynn just how much her mother meant to him...

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You know, it's not really in our nature to give two hoots about the Miss Universe pageant - or any beauty contest, for that matter, unless it involves psychotic stage mothers and a "too young to model" controversy, or maybe one of the contestants is secretly a man - so consider this piece merely a follow-up to the piece on Miss Universe Australia Laura Dundovic's... pretty 'National Costume' dress.

Unfortunately for the hopes and dreams of the entire nation, Laura's frilled Jayson Brundson confection has failed to push her through the preliminary rounds of the Miss Universe comp, currently underway in Vietnam:

...Sadly Dundovic didn't kick any goals in the real national dress competition of the pageant yesterday.

Knocked out in the first phase of judging, she is hopeful of attracting more attention in her vibrant Jayson Brunsdon gown when voting hits the internet.

Apparently she wore a boomerang as a breast-plate along with her souffle of chiffon, which takes the whole outfit into a new realm of "WTF". Thank you, also, to our beloved Defamer Australia family, who helpfully tried to decipher the dress' true meaning.

Highlights from their super-sleuthiness after the jump.

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After coming from way ahead to lose Game 4 of the NBA Finals and leaving a less-than-stimulated Hollywood A-list in courtside development hell, the ultimate indignity of the Lakers' lost season came down to this weekend and one impromptu freestyle session Shaquille O'Neal. The deposed centre, who never quite got over Kobe Bryant's comments that he might have avoided that whole rape-charge imbroglio a while back if he'd just followed Shaq's (alleged) lead and "paid his women," took the mic at a New York club and fired off a few of his traditionally clunky rhymes ("You know how I be/Last week Kobe couldn't do without me ... I'm a horse/Kobe ratted me out, that's why I'm getting divorced") before finally delivering the official Feel-Good Anthem of the Summer — and probably the de facto chant for the remainder of Kobe's career road games. It's catchier than Gary Glitter, anyway. [TMZ]

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Move over Norma Desmond — Katherine Heigl is here. After Heigl's baffling antics over the past few weeks, namely snubbing her Grey's Anatomy fame enablers and any fan who may have actually enjoyed her pretty neurotic mess of a character on the show, this clip of Heigl voicing her disgust with "writers?!?" proves just how big Heigl's nicotine-scented head has grown. And to make matters worse, the images awaiting you after the jump of Heigl vacationing with emasculated husband Joshua Kelley, in which her emasculated servant is used as both her kickboxing target and ashtray give new meaning to Desmond's infamous diva-turned-delinquent madwoman trajectory. Catch Heigl at her heights while you can before the inevitable backlash to the backlash to the backlash begins, after the jump:

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Triple-digit temperatures can drive a woman to do nutty things, but in the case of Courtney Love, it's not a very long drive. Inspired, perhaps, by the 1920s wardrobe worn by Angelina Jolie in Clint Eastwood's upcoming The Changeling, the skeletal Hole singer rang in the weekend by swanning through Malibu dressed up as a ghost flapper. Said the concerned Daily Mail:

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After the troubling events that brought Season One of The Two Coreys to its Corey-splintering conclusion, we honestly weren't sure if we'd ever see the two best friends and faded idols in the same room again. Still, as all of Hollywood knows by now, Haim is ready to work, and work—that undependable mistress—eventually came: Haim was a last-minute addition to The Lost Boys 2, necessitating the above reunion in a diner booth. And while we've always enjoyed the lightly structured drama that propels each and every episode, nothing prepared us for the bombshell revelations that would come tumbling out of the Bottomless Coffee Thermos of Shame. Did Corey H. just say he was "raped?" Did Corey F. just respond by saying he was "molested?"

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Keeping in mind all the optimistic overdrive before and after Sex and the City's $57 million opening weekend, the putative Chick-Flick Revolution should probably feel a little more dug in right now than it actually is. But such is life for the accidental genre, which received another once-over on Sunday at the LAFF when writer-director Diane English discussed (and briefly previewed) her troubled updating of the 1939 all-female ensemble dramedy The Women — a/k/a "Unreleaseable Meg Ryan Project," the subject of its own endless drama and speculation as Warner Bros. determines how it plans to bury it.

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There exists a certain type of filmgoer (I know him intimately, for he is me) whose weakness can be summed up in four words: "Robots with Human Emotions." This sort of film fan grew up on movies like Short Circuit, thrilled to videos like Bjork's "All Is Full of Love," and even has been caught defending A.I. Artificial Intelligence (you take the good with the bad, people). A 30-second clip of Pixar's Wall-E could drive a man like this to tears, but for the other 99% of the population it will provoke nothing but head-shaking, for the $180 million Wall-E contains virtually no dialogue.

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While most old folks would reward a query like, "Tell me about your fourgies, Grandpa!" with a sharp caning, Playboy founder Hugh Hefner is of a different breed. In his upcoming book, Mr. Playboy: Hugh Hefner and the American Dream, Steven Watts convinced the swinging octogenarian to open up about his earliest sexual adventures, including one aborted wife swap that led the mogul to seek out friendlier, more familiar partners. Says Page Six:

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· Disney may have another "bankable tyke-and-tween franchise" (why does that phrase sound vaguely offensive and child-pornish?) in Camp Rock, says Variety, with 8.9 million viewers tuning in to watch the Jonas Brothers sing their newest hit, "(Yuck!) There's A Mosquito in My S'mores." [Variety]
· DreamWorks bought a comedy pitch called Home Schooled, about a 30-year-old man who was home schooled and is now heading off to college. The clash of cultures is sure to yield hilarious results! [THR]
· Tom Hanks sides with AFTRA in the escalating SAG-AFTRA feud. [Variety]
· Plastic pony fetishist Sloane Crosley's book of short, personal essays, I Was Told There'd Be Cake, was purchased by HBO for development into a possible series. [Variety]
· Supernatural EP Eric Kripke has signed a two-year deal with Warner Bros.TV, which—get ready to be spooked out—secures his showrunner duties on the shows upcoming fourth season on The CW. [Variety]

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Judd Apatow's comedy-godfather status isn't quite translating overseas, The New York Times noted in a probing piece on Sunday. While the filmmaker-producer looks set for a late-summer spike in the States with the upcoming Step Brothers and Pineapple Express, his signature blend of pop-culture refraction and infantile male bonding has come to symbolize American cinema's rut in Europe and Asia. For disappointing starters, we hear France and South Korea have developed interests of their own outside our sex-and-drug romps, piling panic on top of panic as the dollar crashes and the world turns its back on Genius:

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Following last week's surprise announcement that India's Reliance ADA Group would sink a half-billion into DreamWorks, the lines dividing Hollywood and Bollywood continue to blur: Today comes news that national action-hero treasures Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger have carved some time out of their busy franchise-rebooting / incomprehensible-speechifying schedules to sign on for the most epic Bollywood production of all time. And it's all going down right on the Universal lot, a stone's throw from Steven Spielberg's DreamWorks offices:

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Bad news for film fans but delicious news for those of you who love DVD extras: David O. Russell's political comedy Nailed has been shut down again, for the fourth time. As per Nikki Finke, the trouble-plagued production "was shut down by IATSE on Friday for the same reasons as before: crew not getting paid," though Variety reports that filmmaking is scheduled to resume today for two more days of principal photography. As enticing as the film's synopsis sounds (Jessica Biel has nail shot into her forehead, becomes nymphomaniac) we must concur with Hollywood Elsewhere's Jeff Wells, who'd prefer to skip straight to the making-of documentary where the mercurial O. Russell calls Biel a string of nasty names she hasn't heard since Ruthie hit puberty on 7th Heaven.

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The heat, a killer surf, and a clear shot of Hollywood's favourite shirt-eschewing leading man was a recipe for disaster this weekend. Having returned from his recent Nicaraguan escapades a proud flop-owner in search of his missing flip, Matthew McConaughey combated our city's punishing heat wave by hitting the tasty breaks of Malibu's Paradise Cove. It was there that several upstanding members of our city's paparazzo community—hoping to catch that elusive, $1 million photo of McConaughey hanging toes to the nose while clutching his newborn—were confronted, and ultimately assaulted, by an intimidating and unruly mob of board-shorted surfing henchmen. From the LAT:

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If you're a diva with an image problem (like, say, Monica Lewinsky or Hitler), there's no friendlier filmmaking duo than Fenton Bailey and Randy Barbato. In fact, the World of Wonder partners have such a reverence for tarnished camp that they once began an interview with your guest blogger by pointing to a half-drank Evian and solemnly intoning, "That? Was Nicole Richie's." However, former Hollywood Madam Heidi Fleiss didn't quite see eye-to-eye with the pair, despite their attempts to flatter her in the new HBO doc Heidi Fleiss: The Would-Be Madam of Crystal. Says Page Six:

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With the summer solstice finally arriving in our rear-view mirrors over the weekend, join us in recognising the first real box-office hits and misses of the season:

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All roads led to rapture for fanboys (and girls, we suppose) over the weekend at the LA Film Festival, where Sunday closed with a glimpse at scenes from the forthcoming X-Files: I Want to Believe. It seemed a busy enough couple of days elsewhere in Westwood, but it wasn't like there were shrieking throngs delivering signed thank-you cards to Diane English after a preview/discussion of her troubled updating of The Women, or a geek-to-seat ratio of 1:1 at the Melvin Van Peebles event on Saturday. This was the sort of a climactic bedlam most fests save for their closing nights, not the last screening on a sleepy Sunday.

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If you haven't yet heard, George Carlin died of heart failure yesterday in St. John's Health Centre in Santa Monica at the age of 71. In that time, the prolific stand-up and actor produced 23 comedy albums, 14 HBO specials, and three books—to say nothing of having saved the universe by helping the founding members of Wyld Stallyns pass history. In a poignant twist (as if we needed one), it was recently announced that Carlin would be the recipient of the 11th Mark Twain Prize for American Humor, scheduled to have been presented in a PBS-televised presentation on Nov. 11.

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