According to the source, the perpetually-dazed Parker snatched 25-year old Mars away from his girlfriend, Lindsey Brown, a journalist for local Mississippi station WTOK. And now Parker, who was left by baby daddy Billy Crudup, should wear a sign warning the world of her evil bitchery: The email, in its unedited glory:

Readers may find it interesting that actress Mary Louise Parker who was dumped late in her pregnancy five years ago went on to rip apart the three year relationship of her new boyfriend Charlie Mars and his then 25 year old Mississippi girlfriend.

Early June Mars was still in a relationship with news anchor Lindsey Brown who is a journalist in Meridian Mississippi. Mars and Brown met while Brown was finishing up college at the University of Mississippi. It was Brown who helped Mars move through his substance/drug abuse problems he has battled for the last decade.

You would think a woman who suffered so greatly at the hands of a man would work to make sure other women aren't betrayed the same way...

The note ends with "ladies beware, cougars have no shame," which leads us to believe there's an inter-generational war brewing. And we're putting out money on the cougars — those girls have been around and no doubt have some tricks up their sleeves.

Nederlander runs 'Broadway in Chicago,' so some are suggesting that the extravaganza—based on the 1983, John Landis-directed creepshow homage—could plant its roots in that windswept burg. It doesn't sound as if Nederlander plans to obtain rights to the rest of the songs on the same-titled album, but MJ is broke as an M F'n joke and maybe dying, so maybe he'd sell them at a discount. A rep for the Organization says that Jackson "will be personally and fully involved in the creation of the show," which might mean new tunes. We could make a joke about his involvement simply being as a model for the zombies or something, but that would be too easy.

We could also moan and groan yet again that every musical these days is based on a movie or whatever, but this is based on a music video. The key word there being 'music.' Oh, and there's great dancing! This probably has more potential than, say, Chocolat. [via Observer]

In other theatre news, much-beloved actress Mary-Louise Parker is starring in a revival of Hedda Gabler at the Roundabout that received a right thrashing in the New York Times this morning. Chief critic Ben Brantley called it "one of the worst revivals I have ever, ever seen." Yeeouch. We're still curious to see it, if only so we can understand just what Brantz is talking about. This could be our Carrie! Though, um, it's probably not that fabulously awful.

Among the recent ranks of mostly-untested LA fugitives are Jason Biggs, Jennifer Garner, Katie Holmes, the mercury-doomed Jeremy Piven, and the soon-to-be-hoofing-it Lauren Graham, Susan Sarandon, Rupert Everett, and Jane Fonda (among others). While big namers do earn more than a typical theatre star would to glow under the lights, the pay isn't great and the performance schedule can prove grueling. So why are so many folks jumping on the theatre bandwagon?

Well, of course there's the whole building-cred thing. Though that's sort of been debunked in years past. Ashley Judd (Cat on a Hot Tin Roof) and Julia Roberts (Three Days of Rain) proved that bad notices for stage work can make you look like kind of a jackass. (See Julia's sad "you people are insanely talented" Tonys mea culpa.) And how often has the risk really paid off? Holmes (All My Sons) and Garner (Cyrano) got mostly decent reviews for their performances, but does anyone really respect them more because of it? At some point—especially in Ms. Holmes' case—doesn't it start to seem like it's just a lame fallback? When the screen work dries up, go hobbling off to New York where devoted theatre fabs will greet you with open, grateful arms. Right? Increasingly, not so much.

Did you hear that collective grumble that rose up among young male actors in New York when Haley frickin' Joel Osment got cast in the ill-fated revival of David Mamet's American Buffalo? The kid got that role simply because he starred in a couple of shitty movies ten years ago. He'd done little to no acting since. But producers, desperate for ticket sales, will throw just about any known screen actor into a significant role in a play, despite their lack of any discernible chops. Which is, you know, kind of a slap in the face to actual "theatre people." The more it happens, the more true straddlers of both mediums—your Mary Louise Parkers, your Laura Linneys, your Ethan Hawkes—get lumped in with the sad pile. The stunt casting cheapens the medium, reducing it to just an excuse to see your favorite star live and saying things. (Who the hell really wanted to see Pygmalion? No, they just wanted to see Angela Chase up close.)

So who knows about Miller. She did study acting in New York, but so did Jessica Alba. Maybe she'll flourish though, and stick around. Just once it'd be nice to see that conversion (you'd better stay put, Denis O'Hare) happen in reverse.

Anyway, this is probably just sad theatre nerd grumbling—there are plenty of good, hardworking theatre actors all over the country (Elizabeth Marvel, Thomas Derrah, etc.) who've seemingly no motivation to cross over into the glitz. It's just sad to see them overshadowed. But really, who's to argue with ticket sales? Lord knows the industry needs it.

Let's just avoid that Anne Hathaway Oleanna that was rumored about a while back. I don't give a shit if theatre is her "first love."

Pal Joey is apparently not so good (if you believe Ben Brantley). Shame for the "misused" Stockard Channing, but nice that Martha Plimpton got glowing reviews. She has been quietly taking over New York theatre over the past couple of years. Actually, I would see this show just to watch her sing "Zip." The overall lack of good buzz is bad news for Roundabout, though, as it heads into a play-heavy spring.

Speaking of their play-heavy spring, everyone should be excited about Mary Louise Parker in Hedda Gabler, which comes rumbling along in January. It's perfect casting, in a weird way. Plus, Parker is just one of the best reviewed theatre actresses of her generation, so seeing her return from the thick weeds of California is always nice. And Roundabout's Waiting for Godot, with Nathan Lane (ugh) and Bill Irwin (hooray!), ought to be interesting. (Or, you know, it could be kinda boring except for the times when you're marveling at Irwin. Like in Rachel Getting Married.)

On a smaller scale, I'm pretty interested in Potatoes of August. A play-with-music about metaphysical philosophizing sparked by a creepy potato boom? Yes, please. Plus it's right off the F!

But really, the best thing about all of these shows, even Pal Joey? Jeremy Piven isn't in any of them.

After the jump: Why is Gus Van Sant about to drop gobs of acid?!

· Jennifer Lopez has signed a two-year deal with Universal Media Studios, which will develop "a wide variety of Jennifer Lopez-related TV projects" for the studio. [Variety]
· Milk writer/director team of Gus Van Sant and Dustin Lance Black will re-pair for an adaptation of the The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, hopefully to feature Emile Hirsch as an LSD-induced, gayfro'd gnome in Ken Kesey's imagination. [THR]

Well I think we know who it's not:



Jessica Lange: hair looks good, but the eyes look all senile and disoriented. Possible?



Oy, Edie Falco. But it's nowhere near as scary as the Wikipedia photo she has not to my knowledge made any attempts to alter, so it's probably not her.



Ha ha ha, Lypsinka



Oh God it's totally Ellen Barkin, duh. Maybe don't pose with Julianne Moore next time, lady! But what a week for the phantom plastic surgery shadow, huh.

Proving that truly great actors don't even need lines to turn you into a laughing-while-weeping mess, our Celia found herself sharing a cell with the makeover-happy Chita, who decided to make Celia "her special girl." Meaning, use her as a voodoo doll dressed in the kind of clothing we see gathering dust in our grandmother's attic and wearing rouge so red we're in pain just imagining Perkins scrubbing it off after shooting. But as much as we enjoyed our trippy half hour with the knee-deep-in-shit Weeds-ers, we're slightly apprehensive about next week's episode's theme: euthanasia. Getting high off your TV set is sort of interesting, but we have yet to ponder the delights of assisted suicide.

• WEEDS [Showtime]

To summarize, the town of Agrestic is burning. Relocation means somehow entering Andy’s mother’s old house equipped with a barking doorbell, the charm of which is entirely lost on the Botwins and their smiling-through-gritted-teeth realization that an imaginary attack dog has been freaking them out for years. Though the presence of the dead grandmother is revealed eerily by little public masturbator Shane, our favorite moment occurs when Nancy, the epitome of how a jaded suburban adulthood spent in Southern California renders the smart ones barely conscious, lists the 10-year old Rad’s many accomplishments: “He’s read the whole Narnia series, and now he’s moved on to His Dark Materials which he likes, his favorite dragon is the komodo dragon and he thinks dodgeball is gay.” Dibs on Rad ten years from now.

• 'WEEDS' SETS SHOWTIME RATINGS RECORD [THR]
• WEEDS [Showtime]

• Apparently Naomi Campbell called arresting police at Heathrow "fucking white honkeys" and called one officer a "white ****." I actually have no idea how to fill in the stars in "white ****." But if the Sun, of all papers, is censoring it, it must be pretty bad. And yet still far better than a mobile phone traveling at 100mph. [Sun]
• Jennifer Aniston and Orlando Bloom hugged, which means the movie stars got to first base as far as OK! is concerned. "For the full story on Jen's possible blooming romance with Orlando, pick up the latest copy of OK!" OK! [OK!]
• AP reported Mary-Louise Parker broke off her engagement to fellow Weeds star Jeffrey Dean Morgan. Since we all get angry and confused when salacious celebity gossip is attributed to unnamed sources, the wire service carefully explained its source was anonymous "because of the sensitive nature of the relationship." [AP]
• Britney Sears, in addition to exploring Dutch furniture sales and a possible comeback tour, is also considering a T-shirt deal with fashion designer Christian Audigier. For when you want to flash some nipple, but need plausible deniability. [OK!]
• Paris Hilton is starring in a movie about a biotech company that repossess organs when recipients fall behind on their payments. And she wants everyone on MySpace to know how she's totally in love with her boyfriend.
• An activist on the Lower East Side is organizing a protest against "right-wing Republican" Bruce Willis' "yuppie wine bar," because clearly the supposed invisible hand of the market never did jack about Planet Hollywood. [P6]

And what's an episode of Martha without at least one cringe-worthy celebrity interview moment, such as today's exchange with Jeffrey Dean Morgan, the Weeds and Grey's Anatomy actor who's cornered the market on puppy-eyed, dying and/or deceased love interests to TV's stouthearted anti-heroines. Pressing him for details about "fancy shmancy girlfriend" Mary-Louise Parker, Stewart mistakenly assumes Morgan is the mother of Parker's two children, then presses him to label the parameters of their relationship—which Morgan quickly deflects by reminding her of "the incident." Surely, if Martha had intentionally meant to slice the actress's supple flesh, she could have just as easily butchered Parker into a variety of delicious cuts of meat faster than you could say, "Trump Steaks."

• The Martha Stewart Show