The world awoke this morning to the chirping of little birds resembling Kristin Chenoweth and Neil Patrick Harris, perched at a podium in the Academy of Television Arts and Sciences, announcing nominations for the 60th Emmy Awards. While most rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, we sat bolt upright as usual and sprinted to the window, our furious note-taking chronicling a few snubs, surprises and plenty of the conventional wisdom we've come to expect from the annual ritual.

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Everywhere we've been around the LA Film Festival this week, the chatter du jour is either oversexed studio minions or how folks plan to spend their off-days during the increasingly inevitable-looking SAG strike. The latter conflict came into even sharper relief today in Variety, which published a SAG-AFTRA Bullshit Scorecard (hardly an improvement over our SAG Strike Mad Libs™, but whatever) breaking down the lies, celebrity endorsees and various other spin the unions are wielding in their steel-cage labour war:

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If you've ever wondered how far below the poverty line Tara Reid is living these days or what kind of child support Alec Baldwin doles out to Kim Basinger, there is a guy in Cincinnati named John Snyder who is living your dream right now. Illegally, of course, and maybe under threat of prison time, but still: Snyder, an IRS tax examiner, is accused of viewing the confidential records of 197 celebrities over the last five years, including Kevin Bacon, Sally Field, Vanna White, John Cleese, Portia De Rossi, Randy Quaid and even "the late Eddie Albert of the classic sitcom Green Acres." Eddie Albert! Has this man no shame? Maybe not, but you can bet he has a lawyer:

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We're still (pretty unsuccessfully) trying to shake off our Emmys hangover - drinking was really the only way to make it through all three-plus hours of last night's telecast without going insane from boredom - but we're now lucid enough to tackle the "mystery" of that trio of perplexing cuts (compiled in the above clip) from Ray Romano, Katherine "If You Call Me Hi-Jel I Will Fucking Cut You" Heigl, and Sally Field to the giant, profanity-erasing Sphere of Censorship hanging in the rafters of the Shrine.

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It's telling that seemingly the only thing worth discussing following last night's Emmys - an exercise in show business self-gratification only marginally more entertaining than watching a Lassie stand-in lick its genitals between camera set-ups - are the three words we weren't allowed to hear (to review: "screwing," "[shit]," and "goddamn") during the telecast.

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