• So, wait, when did Michael Lohan become a contracts expert? Oh, that's right: when he started representing Jon Gosselin. Yeah: that's what they were doing hanging out together all those times. Lohan was representing Jon Gosselin. Jon Gosselin elected Michael Lohan to represent him. First of all, I don't care if Michael Lohan is offering to pay your cable bill in person, you do not elect Michael Lohan to represent you in any way, least of all in any kind of contract dispute. This is a guy who can't pay his child support which is probably like $15 a month, I mean, fucking really, Jon Gosselin. We kind of thought you were a lunk before but this is absurd. The agreement was in some kind of management capacity, and Lohan brought the documents to Zombie Radar, because that's where you go if you're the Deep Throat in contract negotiations between TLC and Jon Gosselin. You go to Zombie Radar. [NYDN]
  
  
• Robert Pattinson is slowly having his soul sucked from his face because of Twilight. TMZ has the proof. Of course they do. [TMZ]
  
  
• I know, I know, you're not supposed to use this word. Can we, just this once? No? Whatever, I really don't care. My ear hurts. Carrie Prejean is retarded. How retarded? Really retarded. I mean, besides being a complete ignoramus and misanthrope, she's so retarded that she can't even fill out her own questionnaire for the Ms. California pageant, so she had the guy she boned on the sex tape help her out with some of the questions. Synergy! One of the questions she needed help with was If you could have lunch with any one (1) person, who would it be and why? Like, you need HELP with that question? If my job were to sit around all day and answer questions like that (instead of solving the philosophical mysteries of the universe, as I'm doing right now), life would be pretty swell. Can I answer this? I would like to have lunch with Joey Bishop over some well-cooked steak. And then I'd like to ask him who he was and why nobody knows who he is and discern whether or not he had enough talent to be in The Rat Pack. That is all. [TMZ]
  
  
• Hey, so! Remember that time ESPN denied sexual misconduct in the workplace? Right, like, every one of them. And then remember gossip jock sister site (and we do mean sister) Deadspin reporting on all those juicy ESPN sexual misconduct rumors that they'd been holding in their pocket forever? Turns out they were right. Katie Lacey, SVP of Marketing, was fired after ESPN had a change of heart on her longtime affair with ESPN's programming VP, David Berson, who was having an affair with Lacey. Jay Mariotti has yet to be fired for his love affair with being an asshole. [Page Six]
  
  
• I don't know if it's my computer or what but seriously, look how the Daily News gossip pages came up this morning:
  
  I mean, it's not necessarily gossip, per se, to note what a bunch of squares the people at the Daily News are, but when even the tech guys are messing with you like this, you've got problems. John Mayer reference? Maybe they're hiring. Just a thought.
  
  
• Speaking of assholes at newspapers, stupid narcs, at stupid newspapers! Get this: Gov. Paterson's stepdaughter Ashley Dennis (pictured) was gonna have a bunch of her friends from Ithaca College come rock the Gov's mansion with Jell-O shots and beer—which is bad form, everyone knows you follow Jell-O shots with actual shots—in an invite that called the place "FDR's Polio Poolhouse," which, I don't know if that's official, but I like it! I would like her to come up with a crafty name for my apartment. Anyway, her party got canceled (or as the government would have it NEVER EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE, #conspiracytheory) because word of the jam got to a local newspaper. Mellow: harshed. [Page Six]
  
  
• Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck is going on today. Read this story. Seriously. It's about some West Wing acctress I've never heard of defending the honor of J-Lo and Marc Anthony's dog as a "Lassie" and not a "Cujo," which is what I feel like I'm about to transform into. Seriously, everything's broken, the Daily News gossip pages are squares I have to interpret, and I feel like there's a cosmic dick in my ear and it hurts. Wrong side of the bed? More like wrong side of the universe. [NYDN]
  
  
• Okay, seriously Warner Music Publicity? This is absurd. Nobody knows who this Katherine Jenkins person is, or what she sings, or why we should be so crazy-excited about her. Who is this person, why is she sooooo big in England, and why should we care? Go! Damn. Time's up. We still don't care. No, but really, look at this quote from "iconic" Warner Music Publicist Liz Rosenberg: "I call her Leg, which is short for legend." Well, I call her "WTF," which is short for "One could theoretically spent ten minutes trying to write this item up trying to convince themselves to look up some of this person's music to find out who she is and not bring themselves to. Why?" Seeing as how that just happened, it works, right? [Page Six]
  
  
• Oprah's quitting and some of her celebrity friends like Ellen are sad. But oh, hey look, MORE OF THESE GODDAMN SQUARES.

  

  [NYDN]
  
  

• Ha. Sporstcaster Len Berman visited NBC for the first time since being fired in April to promote his book on Today. He ran into Barbara Corcoran, and she threw down a pretty solid diss on Len. You need to read it to get the set-up, suffice to say Page Six also took the time to find the right photo of Berman before going to press with this one. [Page Six]
  
  
• Another woman was stalked by the supreme creep who stalked Erin Andrews and made those peephole videos and she had to deliver testimony via a four-page statement that was read in court. Meanwhile, I know, I know, eye-for-an-eye justice is philosophically bad, because we should be humane (or something). And we should be. But this guy should, if convicted, have to spend the rest of his life with his dick in a peephole-sized vice. Honestly? I hate people. Also, this story is kind of sort of important to read and these squares are making me very, very irascible. This is not an enjoyable experience. [NYDN]
  
  
• Ed Koch had an 85th birthday. Ed Koch is old. The only thing Ed Koch could do to celebrate not being extinct was to make a bunch of shitty jokes at the expense of dead New York mayor Abe Beame. What's so funny about Beame? HE WAS A SHORT JEW HAR HAR. Not reported: when Ed Koch ceremoniously shit out a Brontosaurus Egg and gave it to Sardi's for research like he does at the end of every 85th birthday. [Page Six]
  
  
• More great news delivered via the Associated Squares that make this all the easier to write about: a South Korean supermodel was very, very depressed, and hung herself. She was beautiful. Her name was Daul Kim, and she blogged about her depression before this happened. [NYDN]
  
  
• Can we talk, for a second, about the best sighting the New York Post has ever published? No comment needed. This is just art. "Natalie Portman leaving the NY Public Library on Fifth Avenue smoking a cigarette and wearing Ray Bans." Okay, comment: #SWOON. Related: Who doesn't leave the NYPL like that? New York is cool. [Page Six]
  
  
• Enough with the hashtags already, right? #Wrong. Go away. Anyway! Apparently Tila Tequila, she of the short-lived MTV reality dating programme A Shot At Having Your Own Unique, Obscure STD with Tila Tequila—it's like Top Gear, but they test drive different strains of herpes—apparently had some kind of freakout on her live streaming broadcast page where she stripped and spoke in tongues or something. Now she's blaming it on her ex-boyfriend Shawn Merriman, who she tried to get convicted of domestic abuse. Shawn Merriman probably doesn't even know Tila Tequila's name anymore. Harsh, right? Kinda probably true though. [NYDN]
  
  
• Nick Cannon doesn't go anywhere without Mariah Carey who is now his bodyguard. The Emancipation of Mimi apparently involves the imprisonment of Nick Cannon. Also, Ben Silverman grew a beard to distinguish himself from Ricky Van Veen, and Vanity Fair was there to get all the action. [VF]
  
  
• Ha! Remember the scuzzy fuckball paps that tried to infiltrate and mess up Britney Spears' life? Yeah, well, he's going to jail for 45 days on charges associated with being a scuzzy fuckball and Brit-Brit is still fabulous. Don't call it a comeback, bitches. Mess with the gays' icons and they'll get you put in the slammer, for serious. Speaking of: when is the inevitable batshit craziness of a Lady Gagadong and Brit-Brit collab joint gonna pop off? Needs to happen. [NYDN]

Okay, well, this day's going to be nothing but strangeness, apparently. Have you ever seen someone blog with an ear infection? You're about to! I feel like I'm leaning exactly 23 degrees to the left. Here's a song, let's all get funky and just try to ride this one out, I guess. Happy Saturday!

[Image via Bauer-Griffin]

Corcoran, whose track record in her two years as a real estate analyst for NBC is almost as horrendous as Jim Kramer's is as a financial analyst, is the subject of a Women's Wear Daily profile that revealed some somewhat surprising tidbits about Corcoran's penchant for potty-mouthery, something she claims has helped her get ahead in business.

"I got a complaint yesterday for using foul language in a speech I gave," Corcoran says. "I said, ‘holy s—t.' I mean, what other word can you use? There's no other word you can substitute for that. People loved my language. I usually get compliments on it. It makes them trust me. They say ‘She tells it like it is.'"

In fact, there are dozens of phrases one can substitute for holy s—t starting with "oh my gosh," but Corcoran avoids them when possible because they do not fit as readily within her media persona.

She tells dirty jokes, uses bad words, and makes vaguely inappropriate comments about your physical appearance less because she's a different kind of real estate broker than because she's selling you the idea of a different kind of real estate broker. By being ever so slightly inappropriate (more PG-13 than R rated) she says, "I'm your friend, not your salesperson." It's smart, another way to close the deal.

And naturally, Corcoran isn't shy about infusing her game with a little girly fliration.

"She was constantly telling her brokers how attractive they were," recalls a former Corcoran underling. "The first time I was in the office she felt my butt and said something like, ‘Welcome to the office.' Or she'd squeeze a guy's arm and say ‘You're so muscular.' She's not hitting on you, she's selling you. It usually works."

We suppose this all shouldn't be too surprising. After all, this is the same Barbara Corcoran who dropped her pants in the Central Park Boathouse to show off her ass to John Stossel and a group of her friends two years ago.

All told, we have to admit—We've kind of got a bit of a "Mrs. Robinson" crush on Barbara Corcoran. She'd probably destroy us though. Sigh.

For Barbara Corcoran, the Housing Crisis is a Glass Half Full [WWD]

Luckily, the Times has a very random selection of answers! Obama wants to limit the pay of Wall Street execs to a mere half mil. How would that meager salary affect, say, real estate ninja Barbara Corcoran?

Barbara Corcoran, who started a Manhattan real estate firm with $1,000, also looked back to the early 1990s, when she crossed the $500,000-a-year threshold..

"The other life difference," she said, "was it made it affordable to go to extreme measures to have a child." She signed up for in vitro fertilization treatments that cost $12,000 each. After seven tries, she said, "finally it worked. Without that kind of money, I don't think I'd have my first child."

Death. 500k would literally mean death. Now, how about somebody whose life was apparently the inspiration for the movie Big?

"It would take me back to '91 or '92," said Mary Rodas, who made big money when she was a teenager as vice president for marketing of the company that made Balzac, a ball-in-a-sack toy that became a top seller at F.A.O. Schwarz.

In those days she rode around in a limousine ("I was too young for a driver's license," she said) and did her market research at the private school she attended, trying out product designs and colors on younger students.

Probably wouldn't have been able to afford that sweet loft with the trampoline and the Coke machines and the older girlfriend and the magic fortune telling machine either. God willing, the rich will never see those dark days again. [NYT]

John Stossel may have gotten an eyeful as he dined at the Central Park Boathouse recently. The "20/20" investigator was at a table close to Barbara Corcoran when friends told the real-estate royal she'd lost weight. "Show us your butt," cried one, and Corcoran obliged, dropping trou ...

At any rate, Barb's catching on to the blogging thing quickly:

By her second post, she's got the boring pictures and pithy commentary thing down pat. Just like a real blogger.

Barb's Blog

"All of America right now is having a love affair with real estate," says New York real estate mogul Barbara Corcoran, founder of the Corcoran Group.

Most Americans — almost 70 percent — are homeowners. "Everybody's bought in," Corcoran says, "everybody's in the parade. . . . With so many people bragging at cocktail parties or at church how much their properties have gone up," it was just a matter of time before we'd see our personal obsession played out on the little screen, says Corcoran, who has her own real estate television show in the works.

Because if the glut of programming on HGTV, A&E, BBC America, TLC and Discovery Home doesn't satiate your appetite, there's a big plate of CorcoDevil being prepared. Just don't forget your laxatives.

TV's Hot Properties: Real Estate Reality Shows [WaPo]

We don't even have a joke for this.

Barbara Corcoran Resigns [The Real Estate/NYO]

I had forgotten what a pleasant city London is. No doubt it comes to seem more attractive as New York be-comes consistently less so. From the moment a New Yorker is confronted with almost any large city of Europe, it is impossible for him to pretend to himself that his own city is anything other than an unscrupulous real-estate speculation, whereas a capital like London is a place where people are supposed to live and enjoy some recreation and comfort rather than merely pay landlords rent.

The above was written by Edmund Wilson nearly 60 years ago. And no, realty-fiend Barbara Corcoran was not yet in business.

Notes on London at the End of a War [NYer]