While we're trying to figure out if actress Natasha Lyonne is still alive and, more importantly, if she has a publicist, a reader disputes the veracity of the Natasha-in-jail claim:

Just wanted to respond to the email sent to you by someone who's male roommate allegedly was in a cell with Natasha Lyonne this weekend.
Sadly, I have been arrested in NYC recently and had to spend the night in central booking myself. Therefore, I can tell you with certainty that men and women are kept nowhere near each other in the pokey. Definitely not in the same cell. The women are kept in a separate wing, with all female guards. So, there's a chance that some guy may have seen Natasha when she was being photographed or waiting to be taken to her cell, but they don't let the men speak to the women AT ALL. The rest is bullshit.

Sure, we totally believe that the jailhouse Natasha information we received might've been an exaggerated account ā€” but the girl was actually arrested on Friday, so she probably did go to central booking. And what, you ask, would happen to Natasha there? Junky details after the jump.

Although, I can tell you that the junkies manage to smuggle in an incredible amount of heroin. They put it in their poon, the one place that the guards don't look. The junkies also are the only ones who eat the disgusting bologna sandwiches that the guards throw at you three times a day. (One of which, inexplicably, is 4:00 in the morning. 4am is meal time?) And I can tell you that you haven't lived until you've watched a 90 pound junkie eat 12 welfare-grade bologna sandwiches.
I particularly enjoy telling people about how when you have to pee (in the one commode in front of the 15 other people in the cell with you) you need to hold up your pant legs while hovering your ass in the air. Why? Because otherwise the swarming roaches will crawl up your legs. How many roaches? Think Joe's Apartment.