Well isn't this utterly vile! Our condolences, Jennifer Aniston! Not only has your former flame's flick flat-lined over the weekend, but he's allowed himself to be swooped by the ever-enterprising Lindsay Lohan, who is apparently looking to plant a few tabloid seeds before her big excursion to India. We're not blaming Lohan, who's willing to attach herself to the underbelly of any high-profile Hollywoodster in order to climb back to studios' good graces. That's an epic ascent. How to speed it along? With a little tongue naturally.

I'm buying two Greyhound tickets to Atlantic City to check out The Water Club at AC’s famous Borgata Hotel, Casino and Spa. As we exit the city, the last billboard catches my eye: an advertisement for a nightclub at Caesar’s in AC called Dusk, with a headline that reads “DJ AM presents Dusk” Sort of a glum way to kick off a trip, though part of the motivation for the pilgrimage is to catch the Blink 182 reunion tour at the Borgata. As we all know, Travis Barker and DJ AM were the survivors of a plane crash in 2008. Point is ... might be time to update the billboard.

● Now that Star magazine won’t have her, Kate Major (a.k.a. Kate 2.0) has run to E! to tell us she was deceived by Jon Gosselin, saying he planned to be with her, not Hailey Glassman. [E!]
● Jeremy Piven once again proves he can’t take a joke by getting into a fight with Chris Kattan (yes, Mango) over the former's sushi-mercury poisoning thing. [Gatecrasher]
● Miley Cyrus has jumped onto the Robert Pattinson bandwagon, admitting she now sees his appeal after meeting him at the Teen Choice Awards. [Examiner]

'Tis the season for sneaker collaborations. In just 24 hours, news of four separate sneaker launches has hit the web. For starters, there are the Ronsons (seasoned fashion designer Charlotte not included). In fact it's DJs and siblings Samantha Ronson and Mark Ronson who are embarking on their own designer endeavors with two separate collaborations. Mark has designed a series of sneakers for Gucci which will launch in conjunction with the brand's traveling pop-up shop (which hits New York in October and will subsequently set up shop in London, Berlin, Paris, and Tokyo), says Elle UK. Sam, on the other hand, is staying stateside with her line of kicks for Supra -- an update on the brand's Indy NS model.

● Alexander Rodriguez was left seeing red after rumored girlfriend Kate Hudson and a gal-pal wrecked his SUV while getting their morning coffee fix in NYC. [Radar]
● Could the reason Academy Award-winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow was left out of Entertainment Weekly's Iron Man issue be that the publishing world considers her newsstand poison? [NBC]
● Star reporter Kate Major has taken it upon herself to become Jon Gosselin’s girlfriend for the sake of her magazine. [JustJared]

Lindsay Lohan seems to be getting herself into all types of sticky situations lately, and I’m not talking about her on-again-off-again romance with Samantha Ronson. After denying that she was culprit behind the missing jewels from a British Elle photo shoot last month, Lindsay is again in denial mode -- this time over the formula used in her newly released self-tanner, Sevin Nyne.

When my BFFL broke up with her man in college, she first played the whole I'm fine game by posting inspirational Facebook updates. When she was past fine, she had to show she was really, really fine -- or as some might enunciate: fooo-iiiiiine. This was strategically done by taking those half-naked shots in the bathroom mirror, paired with other half-naked photos of her glowing at a club surrounded by other half-naked girls and maybe a few of her ex's pals just to be sure the ex would see them when the friends were inevitably tagged. Lo, the convenience of modern technology. So, what is a celebrity to do when the whole world is your Facebook, and you've just been dumped for the second time by your beau? Well, if you're Lindsay Lohan, you simultaneously prove you're fine, and you're fooo-iiiiiine by posting a super-hot topless shot in the bathroom mirror to your Twitter ... for Perez, me, and all the world to see.

● It’s on, it’s off, it’s on, and it’s off again ... Sam Ronson broke up with Lindsay Lohan via text message, prompted by a dinner with Ronson’s friend Nicole Richie. [E!]
● If you see an ad with Barbara Walters hawking anti-aging pills, don’t believe it; Exilatrol is using Bab’s photo to promote their pills unbeknownst to Walters. [TMZ]
● Kim Kardashian gave Heidi Montag the "final OK" for posing nude in Playboy; Kardashian told her the magazine is “very classy and artsy.” [US]

● Angelina Jolie will grace the cover of July Harper’s Bazaar, but the actress has nothing to promote; she isn’t even interviewed for the magazine. Rather, feminist writer Naomi Wolf will explain why so many woman would go gay for Jolie. [US]
● Ed Westwick -- more commonly known as Chuck Bass -- would like you to stop calling him "fat." He’s practically svelte. [E!]
● Miley Cyrus isn’t attracting the same crowds as in the past; thousands were expected to show up for the casting of her latest film, but less than ten showed up. [WTOCTV]

As the economy recovers and money becomes available, places that were long ago shuttered or recently deceased prepare for rebirth. Restaurants lay around like old chairs and sofas covered with white sheets like in an old horror flick. The biggest prize in my eyes is Plumm, that ripe spot on 14th Street with a ton of tradition. Nell Campbell had her infamous joint Nell's there back in the day. It became famous for charging everybody -- and I mean everybody -- door admission. Cher refused, got turned away, and the little gimmick turned the place into a hit overnight. In later years, I would go and listen to jazz bands and eat good food before the mayhem of the dance halls. Noel Ashman took the joint over and called it NA. Some said it meant "Nell's Again," but most thought it was a tribute to his own dapper self. Noel eventually closed NA and transformed it into Plumm, with a gaggle of celebrity investors including Chris Noth, Damon Dash, Samantha Ronson, etc. Plumm proved to be a bitter fruit, never really catching on with a crowd that spent enough money to pay the rent.