Hola, Melbourne-based Sime Nugent fans (or passionate lovers of his music willing to travel great distances for a good live show).

As you may or may not know, we're big fans of "The Nuge" around these parts, and I was rather excited to learn that the man himself is playing a very special show, Bruce McAvaney style, this Friday night at Melbourne's own East Brunswick Club. With support from Matt Walker and Suzannah Espie, a couple of special onstage guests, and a rollickingly talented band who will probably make your brain explode a bit when you watch them do their "thang", the gig was always going to be ace - but it's also being recorded, which means there's every chance your girlish cries of "TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF, NUGENT!" and "PLAY KHE SANH!" will appear on a CD in the near future!

If you'd like to join me and other people with taste on Friday night, you can buy tickets from the East Brunswick Club's website or on the door at the night. Do it! DO IT!

OR - if you email tips AT defamer.com.au and offer up a remotely interesting YouTube link, you might just win yourself two tickets. Bring a date! Feel them up while one of the country's finest singer-songwriters bangs out the musical bliss! Buy me a beer! Whatever!

If Peter Andre can re-straddle the British pop scene after an appearance on I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here a couple of years ago, then I cannot imagine there'll be anything able to stop Big Brother UK contestants Darnell & Kathreya's amazing ode to biscuits Cookie Love from hitting the number one spot on the UK singles chart in a few months time.

To beloved reader Lee - don't stop sending the updates. And you're right, Kathreya is such a glorious character that despite her lack of any connection to Australia, we shall only refer to her as Our Kathreya from this point onwards.

VIVA OUR KATHREYA!

Some of you might have suspected that Lleyton and Bec (sorry, Rebecca) Hewitt's 'baby joy' news of yesterday was conveniently timed to coincide with, say, a mortgage repayment, or perhaps a very expensive piece of furniture that Rebecca just had to have.

Well, o' ye of little faith, who's laughing... oh, what? Right, looks like they did get a lump sum.

Despite earlier denying widespread rumours the former Home and Away star was pregnant with their second child, the Hewitts confirmed the happy news to a women's magazine yesterday - for an estimated six-figure sum.

The baby, due in January, will be a sibling for the couple's two-year-old daughter Mia, whose birth, conception and early milestones were sold in a reported $1 million magazine deal.

The latest tell-all, posed at the Hewitts' luxury Wimbledon rental home, is rumoured in management circles to have netted the celebrity parents $100,000.

The phrase "luxury rental home" sounds like a bit of an oxymoron, doesn't it? Sort of like "delicious cardboard souffle", or "Lara 'Intellegent' Bingle".

Anyway, gee whiz, what a surprise, who knew they were only in it for the money, etc and so forth.

The reviews are in from this past weekend's Glastonbury Festival, and while the Herald Sun would have you believe it was all about Gabriella Cilmi, it seems that expat and big mouth Sam Sparro was in particularly good favour with the Brits.

He was also on the bill at the legendary music fest, and here's what The Guardian's Alex Needham had to say about his festival slot (ooh err!):

Dress code: Sam Sparro is wearing a frankly outrageous ensemble consisting of skin-tight black and gold (geddit?) diagonally striped leather trousers and a multi-coloured vest. His three backing singers, meanwhile, wear tops bearing the letters "S.A.M."

In a nutshell: Sam Sparro is in ebullient form having scored one of the year's biggest hits with Black and Gold, and has the audience eating out of his hand. Easily engaging with a crowd that spills out of the dance tent, he mixes his own material with house classics in an exuberant set which perks up Sunday evening at a point where many might be starting to flag.

He scored 8 out of 10 on the Guardian's Glasto scorecard; given that Jay-Z copped 9 out of 10 and current indie darlings MGMT got only 6 out of 10, that's a pretty good result for Sparro.

Because, you know, our press only really care about Aussie expats once they've been bigged-up overseas.

Remember Graeme Isaako from So You Think You Can Dance Australia? The slightly earnest young insect who liked to have a cry after dancing for his life, looked like he thought partner Kate was a bit of alright, and surprised everyone by announcing, upon being booted, that what he really wanted to do was sing?

Well, some forward-thinking Herald Sun scribe got in touch with Isaako and asked him if he was going to play reality TV two-up.

"My goal, even before the show, was to do recording and stuff and I think now is the perfect opportunity," he said.

"But I'm not going to go for Idol. How embarrassing. Everyone would just look at me and go: 'Reality-TV whore'."

Yes. To paraphrase that old knight guarding the Holy Grail in Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade, he chose... wisely.

Via the ever wondrous b3ta.com, please marvel at the following escalator moves.

If anyone needs me, I'll be at my local shopping centre.

Last night's Living Lohan was all about Ali and her glass-breaking array of vocal talents. The happy family, which is somehow shrinking and growing simultaneously every day now, is still taking Las Vegas by storm as each member's collective talents go into creating International Superstar-Turned-Trainwreck number two. Little Cody helps out by distracting Dina with adolescent silliness like concussions and that all-too-common need to be "loved," Ali helps broaden the franchise by doing her best Daddy Left Us And I'm Gonna Record My Angst- And Nicotine-Laced Breakdowns For You! rehashing of Lindsay's already perfected musical adventures, and Dina grants us with another round of must-have parenting lessons:

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Burned once by the infamous Class of 2000, upon whom they bestowed their Vanity Fair ® Fresh Faces™ Seal of Approval—only to see each and every cover subject's careers offed in increasingly elaborate, Final Destination-esque death sequences—the celebrity-fellating periodical of record is taking no chances with its current "Hollywood's New Wave" issue: Virtually every actor below the age of 18 to earn so much as a single line of dialogue on an episode of iCarly has been profiled in their Bright Young Hollywood portfolio, each posing seductively in their very own Annie Leibovitz "just fucked" portrait. Among the inductees is Superbad star Christopher Mintz-Plasse. We shit you not: McLovin gets to answer his own Pimply Proust Questionnaire:

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A new book claiming to unveil "fun, fascinating facts" about celebrities and their drug habits may just be a collection of ancient quotes and anecdotes. As the NY Post reports today, The Curious World Of Drugs And Their Friends promises sordid tales involving Lindsay Lohan and details from her substance-fuelled evenings before cokepants and trees put them on the back burner, but the story they cite from a "friend" sounds eerily familiar to one of our favourite classic Lohanisms from over a year ago. And the celebrities quoted as being "unable to talk to anyone without a nose full of cocaine," and having "spent the first 35 years of my life in a fog" due to drugs have either kicked their habits long ago or already (endlessly) confirmed to the world that they were once big league nose candy fans. The stars "featured," and exactly how dusty these quips are, after the jump.

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"On Sunday, June 29," the web-blurb legend goes, "Shootout aired a 'Best of' episode on Summer Blockbusters. Guests Jon Favreau, Michael Bay, and Brett Ratner shared their experiences working on major summer spectaculars." And so it was written, and so it should come to pass, that through the magic of repackaging, three of Hollywood's most venerated fauxteurs should share reminiscences and insights with Variety's Peter Bart and Peter Guber. Highlighted above, an exchange with Transformers director and unwitting spondylitis spokesperson, Michael Bay: Acknowledging Bart's observation that he was born into box-office brothels, Bay goes on to pay loving tribute to shlock-piloting cicerones Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer. (Note their imposing, circa-Days of Thunder publicity-shot in high-contrast B&W.) Without them, not a single extraneous helicopter explosion or lingering shot of Megan Fox's ass-crack would ever have been possible.

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The series of events that led up to the arrest of Anne Hathaway's con-ex Raffaello Follieri by the FBI has the NY Daily News wondering—as voiced by an unidentified, freeform-hypothesizing "pal"—if perhaps the Get Smart star had colluded with the Feds in exchange for a "get out of jail while we book your crooked boyfriend for scamming God out of his savings"-card. They report:

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After proving she had little to contribute to the film or starfucking industries, Jessica Simpson finally realised she should keep her pretty-but-pretty-dumb mouth shut for the time being and instead let her t-shirts do the talking, angering PETA in the process. Though the feisty baby seal saviors have their fair share of enemies, they've also impressively managed to get celebrity spokespeople like Alec Baldwin and Eva Mendes to embarrass themselves in public by demanding the public do drugs (Baldwin) or taking off their clothes in the name of fur (Mendes). So naturally, Simpson's public cry for attention irked PETA's most compassionate celebrity nudist, Pamela Anderson, who called her fellow talent-challenged blonde "a bitch and whore" on a radio show. But this is far from the first time Jessica has ruffled another starlet's feathers just by being Jessica. We took a look back at the many ways Simpson has made herself a household name not by selling records or movie tickets, but by starring in her own personal Catfights franchise.

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We're still flipping through "The New Classics" issue of Entertainment Weekly that hit newsstands about two weeks ago. And while we feel that, on the whole, the staffers over there put together a pretty thorough examination of the last 25 years of pop culture, we do have a few qualms with their list. Chief among them is the inclusion of Casino Royale, the 2006 rebooting of the Bond franchise, which came in at #19 in their list of Top 100 movies. While it was certainly a serviceable action thriller, we've never quite been able to understand Owen Gleiberman's fascination with the film (he also rated it the top movie of 2006). Sure, the opening sequence was pretty cool if you've never seen Banlieue 13 or The Bourne Supremacy, but for us, the rest of the film was pure, uncut meh. After all, it couldn't have been just us who fell asleep during that interminable card game of Uno* that took up the entire third act of the film, right? But we're getting off track here. What we meant to be discussing all along is the new trailer for JB22, aka Quantum Of Solace, which we have for you after the jump.

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As we noted last month, the New Village Academy is a private school in Calabasas set to open its doors Sept. 3, founded by Will Smith and wife/appearances-upholder Jada Pinkett Smith. It has become a source of much controversy for having several Scientologists on its staff, who espouse a number of L. Ron Hubbard-advanced learning concepts in the curriculum: among them, the meaninglessly designated "study technology" programme for effective and complete child mind-absorption. The Smiths—still not public with their Scientology affiliations—claim to only be committed to creating "an ideal educational environment." But Carnegie Mellon University professor David S. Touretzky, who has dissected study technology like a rusty E-meter and found it to be about as useful, warns parents away from this particular learning institution, lest they want to find themselves helping with homework essays entitled, "What I Did on My Billion-Years of Servitude Vacation." From the LAT:

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It's rare that one feels as though they can make a difference on this Big Blue Marble—even more so when that difference directly affects an internationally beloved movie star who's fallen upon hard times. And yet there Defamer was, driving a harrowing sequence from last night's The Two Coreys. At first, we were paralyzed by the "He knows we exist!"-effect that occurs when any lowly Movable Type drone is acknowledged by an eight-times undefeated Tiger Beat Fantasy Boyfriend of the Month. But we soon enough regained rudimentary use of our limbs as we observed Haim being guided by new assistant Nelle to our post about his "I'm ready to work" Variety notice—already considered a masterpiece of the self-perpetuated-comeback trade-ad genre.

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Until now, we had some troubles fully accepting Lindsay Lohan As Lesbian. Don't get us wrong. We are major fans of unicorn-straddling shoe fairies, C-list lesbian couples coming out, and someone finally putting food on Portia de Rossi's table every night. But we were fond of Lindsay's borderline feminist habit of having zipless fucks with every guy she found in bathrooms, overseas, or on her friends' arms. So seeing the freckly nudist settle down was easier to swallow knowing the "relationship" was likely a figment of our horny imaginations. But as these new pictures from the set of Labor Pains show, the girl on girl performance may be more real than we hoped. A closer look at Hollywood's happiest couple, and details on what's making Lindsay so smiley around her Smokey Bunch girlfriend, after the jump.

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If you emerged from Saturday's city-wide, Paps vs. Surfs caste riots with two or more limbs (and both flip-flops) intact, consider yourselves one of the lucky ones: It was a massacre out there, folks. Slow the bleeding with the box office numbers from this robust, bullet-bending moviegoing weekend:

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