Now, gentle reader, you may be wondering, “Why even bother scraping together some low-rating bit of TV pus to honor shows that peaked three years ago or have always been kind of crappy?” And gentle reader, in that overlong query, you’ve got yourself a point. Some things we can already tell about this year’s Emmys: True Blood will never get the love it deserves; Weeds will be rewarded for turning in what’s so far been a lackluster fifth season; somehow CSI and Law & Order will sew up all the guest starring awards even if that one may actually deserve to go to Weeds, or more specifically to Jennifer Jason Leigh for her work as Bitchface; one of the Desperate Housewives will get a nomination for Best Actress nomination even though with the exception of Felicity Huffman, they’re no more talented than any of the girls on Gossip Girl; and Mad Men and Breaking Bad will be handed a grab-bag of nominations based on their performance at last year’s Emmys. But enough bad news. The silver lining on all this is that this year, Neil Patrick Harris could be pulling hosting duties. Swoon!

The lovely ladies competing for a spread in SELF Magazine, a contract with Wilhelmina, and $100K on She’s Got the Look are not your average models. They’re all proudly flaunting a little detail about themselves that most models strive to conceal at any cost: their age.  It’s hard to be cynical about a show that according to celebrity stylist and SGTL judge Robert Verdi, “is desperate to show the beauty and diversity of women over the age of 23.” And these women, ranging in age from 35 all the way up to 72 are smokin’ hot. “There’s been a major cultural shift,” Verdi explains, “women are now allowed to be mothers and to be sexy, to be married and to be sexy.”

Because sex sells! And you’ll recall Ugly Betty may need something just short of a Zachary Quinto bukkake outtake to roll out from under the axe of cancellation when it returns this fall. But more importantly, who wants to actually see Betty going nose-to-nose with a real-life Ugly Betty like Susan Boyle? Anyone? Anyone? No? Not even you guys, studio bigwigs? Hm. Well then. What about a prince of modern gay erotica who forked over $18,000 to appear on the flagging soap?

Some time ago, Gossip Girl’s Leighton Meester embarked on something of a spiritual journey through pop music. Her traipse down the worn actress-turned-singer path turned up a few gems, including a cover of “Bette Davis Eyes”, this other cover originally by this band, and a curious little electro-pop romp titled “Good Girls Go Bad,” where she shares singing credits with Cobra Starship—but not until about 1:31 into the song. Just yesterday, the video surfaced onto the web. It features such Gossip Girl-ish things as salacious texts, drinking from flasks, some blokes in white-framed spectacles (I think they’re the Starship), subterranean bacchanalia, and of course Queen B casting her signature ice queen glare now and again. Video after the jump.

Even when not stalking Robert Pattinson or being Ryan Adams, our trusty interns remain vigilant. Early this morning, we received a tip that went straight to the BlackBook Red Phone: the cast of Gossip Girl was shooting on location at Japonais, two blocks from our office. I quickly dispatched our elite squad of hardworking, perpetually awesome BlackBook interns on a mission: locate the cast of Gossip Girl. Document them with your high-tech image capture devices. Extend a copy of our tangible paper product visible in the frame. Finally, exfiltrate from the hot zone and return safely to HQ. Did they succeed?

Once upon a time, down by N’awlins, probably in the French Quarter, there was a princess who was fairest in all the land. There was also a creepy frog who wanted a French kiss from the fairest princess in all the land. ‘Cuz it’s the French Quarter. And then—oh, crap! This isn’t a copywriting assignment where I have to concoct generic back-of-DVD text for Disney’s latest fairy tale conquest is it? Well, I guess that makes some sense as neither Ryan Seacrest nor Lindsay Lohan are near the Big Easy. And that it’s mystifying to figure out who’s the princess and who’s the frog. And while no amount of kissing occurred (perish the thought!), the two did have something of an illicit tryst, where their foreplay led to something worse. Not procreation, but creative genesis. With their powers combined, Seacrest and Lohan hope to unleash a reality show on America so terrifying that it would make us yearn for the fame-mongering ways of Demonella and her beau.

The trailer for Bored to Death is here, you guys. Sorry, Videogum says that all the time and I just wanted to see how it feels. Anyway, HBO’s Bored to Death stars Jason Schwartzman as a Brooklyn writer who procrastinates by stalking the streets as private investigator. We took out our magnifying glass to help examine the 40-second clip for five clues as to what this series will actually be like. The fact that we only came up with three proves just how hard being a detective actually is. 

Kelly Rowland remains one of two surviving members from Destiny’s Child who has escaped Beyoncé’s mandibles alive and well (rest in pieces, LeToya, LaTavia, and Farrah). And in many ways, Rowland, very much like that new Mariah Carey song, Robert Pattinson stalkers, and pay-per-pee airplane toilets, embodies the American spirit. Reaching for the stars, Kelly Rowland has to be content with nursing the scrapes and bruises incurred while washing ashore with the rest of the rubble.

Previously on I’m A Celebrity ...Get Me Out Of Here: Demonella and her weird-bearded prince of darkness finally finished all their grandstanding and exited the jungle, stage right. Upon re-entering the world, they got royally rebuked by Al Roker and the she-beasts of The View. But more importantly, Demonella was replaced by sister Holly Montag, whose name we can invoke without fearing the plague because she has yet to piss us all off and consequently invoke the wrath of The Furies. And now darling Holly is making googly eyes for former American Idol showboat Sanjaya. They may even call themselves “Sanjolly.”

This week’s edition of the New Yorker takes a look inside the home of Barneys’ inimitable creative director Simon Doonan. Doonan’s Nasty: My Family and Other Glamorous Varmints, was adapted for television by the BBC last fall as a series called Beautiful People, and it recently debuted stateside on the Logo network. Right off the bat, he describes his digs as a “palatial gay fantasia.” The grandiose description, though over the top, isn’t surprising given the fact that Doonan recently married his partner of 14 years, interior designer Jonathan Adler. Not to mention the abode in question is outfitted with garden gnomes, a paisley ping-pong table, and a “burlap bust of Napoleon” in the fireplace.