This afternoon I was lucky enough to score an invite to a screening of James Franco’s Saturday Night Live documentary Saturday Night. I am particularly passionate about both James Franco and Saturday Night Live and probably would have enjoyed the film regardless of how well it was made, but it was hilariously funny, informative, and a surprisingly fresh take on the much-covered behind-the-scenes action at Saturday Night Live.

The film took you through an entire week’s process and focused on John Malkovich’s turn hosting last season. From the pitch meeting to show night, you get to see all the action. At times these scenes go on a bit long (like, did we really need to check in on the Italian talk show sketch four times and for five minutes each time?), but generally everything is so interesting to watch that it’s hard to hate on that. One interesting undertone? Former cast member Casey Wilson’s clear struggle to fit in and keep up with the rest of the cast. Between an awkward Liza Minnelli impression during the table read to a confessional-style on-the-fly interview about how bombing in front of her cast members is humiliating, it’s extra insight to why she was canned at the end of last season.

I’m not sure what the availability of the documentary will be, but if you have a chance to see it, DO IT! If you’re an SNL die-hard, a fan of comedy, documentaries, writing, Saturdays, whatever: you will find something in this movie for you. And no, they didn’t pay me to say that.

At least, according to her Twitter page.

Lohan took a spill of epic proportions last night after lines of coke and Adderal being totally sober, in case you hadn’t seen the photos. I didn’t even really think it was worthy to publish a story on it, ’cause the drunkard’s always falling on her ass in one photo or another, but her Tweet actually made me for-real-LOL.

Lindsay’s Tweet earlier in the day read:

Only I would get pushed into a large, sharp plant by crazy paparazzi!!! I need to start wearing more flats :/

You can check out the photos in the gallery.

And who the fuck is that helping her up in one of the photos, Don Cheadle?  If so, dude, you are so on my shit list.

While she’s a disgusting piece of white trash and James is kind of up there on the sick-o-meter, they just seem to be trumping one another in heinous behavior and statements.

McGee, James’ mistress, comes forth regarding her affair-prompting ways and claims that the reason — and the only reason — she ever involved herself with James was for the money.

Michelle McGross states that she entered into sexual encounters with James because she wanted a piece of his Monster Garage Penis fortune and claimed that it would be to secure a “better life” for her family.  Fuck, how noble.

Whether he would have turned this hoe into a housewife will remain to be seen, but she’s made her cheap buck anyway — she was allegedly paid a couple grand for even speaking to the press about the icky, white supremacist-themed affair.

What a gutter rat.

Yeah, and he was on his way home from a fishing trip with his eight year-old son this past Friday. … ‘Cause that’s cool and I guess it’s just how he rolls, right?

What a fucking loser, man.

I read the story last night about how the two had spent this wonderfully bonded father-son time during a daytime fishing trip and on the way home, Puck had supposedly hit this deer and flipped the car and both passengers had sustained some pretty horrific injuries … and now I find out that alcohol had a large part to play in the accident in which he had his CHILD in the car.

Well, authorities are calling his bluff and saying that there never was a deer, David “Puck” Rainey was just drunk. Puck’s son has been already been released from the hospital — he was treated for bruised internal organs and liver damage. Puck is still hospitalized with injuries consisting of broken bones in his feet, neck, collarbone and sternum. Don’t get your hankies out just yet; upon release from hospital, Puck’s going to be whapped with a child endangerment charge which’ll probably result in some legal custody issues with his son.

People who put children — especially their own — in danger? Peh. Yeah, there’s a special place in hell for you, pal.

Jennifer Love Hewitt steps out for her first Big Premiere since splitting with Jamie Kennedy, well, whenever it happened.  Sometime recently or whatever.  She appeared for the flagship opening of the Esprit store in New York City last night and although I kind of dig the new hair — sort of — she’s really grasping at straws in order to thrust herself into the spotlight again, heaving bodice first.  In her defense, though, what better way to do it?  Endure a public breakup with someone who’s even less famous than you are and hit up the major cities for whatever clothing store opening that’ll grant you entrance.  Boy, now her split with Kennedy will surely give her the publicity-fix that she so desperately craves … at least for another few weeks.

It’s actually kind of funny how she made sure to attend the Esprit opening … and kind of appropriate, ’cause I haven’t worn Esprit since eighth grade, back when Jennifer Love Hewitt was actually relevant.

Ah, poetic justice.

And how could you blame him? It’s not a hard comparison to make — crazy, Nazi-bitch porn star or gorgeous Oscar-winning cash cow that just happened to find some attraction in your ugly, philandering mug. Really, it’s not a huge stretch to wonder who he’d indefinitely want to be with.

Sources say that James is feeling pretty low and very contrite at the moment; Bullock allegedly left the two’s shared home over a week ago and Jesse’s claiming to do everything in his power to win her back and take care of his children, who he doesn’t want to be “affected” by his “mishaps.”

The friend who’s speaking out on James’ behalf states:

“You’re talking about one of the most beautiful, talented women in the world, just an absolute wonderful human being, and there’s a great loss to him and his children.”

No doubt — a great loss to his personal empire as well as his joint bank account.

You lay down with dogs, Sandy, sometimes you get fleas … and mange … and the HERP.  You seem like an admirable, strong-willed woman, Ms. Bullock, so go and get some Frontline Plus and wash that louse right out of your hair or call the Orkin man or something.  Please.   And while you’re at it, sleep with him.  He’d be a total upgrade from Jesse “Nazi-fucker” James.