So, like, I think what this blog needs today is more Lindsay Lohan stories.

No, I’m kidding. Sort of.

Since we’ve essentially become LohanWatch2007.com (does someone own that?) these past few days, I’d like to skip today’s Lohan story, and I would, I really would, if only it didn’t involve Ryan Seacrest. Make sense of this oddball Page Six item:

LINDSAY Lohan just can’t seem to stop partying – and, unluckily for her, word on the street is that someone may have recorded her revelry with a cellphone video camera. We can’t divulge what Lohan was allegedly caught doing, but if true, it won’t sit well with her younger fans. Apparently, all the naughtiness went down last week at a party at a private house in Beverly Hills that was also attended by her frenemy Paris Hilton, shipping heir Stavros Niarchos and Ryan Seacrest. At one point, the party was disrupted by a huge rat that ran into several rooms, causing revelers to scream, drop their drinks and run, until Niarchos kicked the rodent out onto a balcony. A rep for Lohan told Page Six, “I have not heard of this.”

Okay, forget Lindsay Lohan. I really don’t care if someone has video of her doing cocaine. Her whole life is basically video of her doing cocaine. I want to see Ryan “Idol Gives Back” Seacrest doing some fat ass lines while Paris Hilton sits on his lap giggling. You know what I hope? I hope Lindsay puts on a fake British accent and is all like, “You know, Paris, your singing is like bad karaoke. It’s like … cheap cruise ship hooker music,” and then I hope Ryan’s all like, “Oh, Simon, is it really that bad?” and then Lindsay — still all British — is all like, “Ryan, you know you just want to have sex with me. In the anus,” and then Ryan’s like “That’s so true, Simon, I want that gigantic cock of yours so that I can …” and then I hope Paris falls off his lap, passed out. I hope this is all on camera and I hope it hits the Internet soon.

With himself. Hot.

Halle Berry claims she’s never had plastic surgery. [Bossip]

Gold is the new rehab. [INO]

Solange Knowles tells her husband … eh … Lisa beat me to it. [A Socialite's Life]

Fantastic. As soon as we find a fashion designer who’s not gay, he turns out to be a rapist. [Warship]

Um, who is Julie Bowen and why is she talking about her body hair? [Celebslam]

I hate to admit it, but Donald Trump’s little boy Barron is probably the cutest child on the planet. [Monica Monroe]

Get this: Janice Dickinson is probably a lot older than the appearance of her face would imply. [Yeeeah!]

Eh. Jessica Simpson is not adopting a child anytime soon, I assure you. But since everyone is reporting this, here’s a link. [Mollygood]

Jennifer Hudson uses her MySpace blog to try to convince us that not everything you read in the gossip columns is true. Yeah, right. Like I’m supposed to believe that from a girl who tried to bail last-minute on the Soul Train awards! [SOW]

The Beckhams settle on an L.A. home: Meg Ryan’s. [Rumorficial]

Cameron Diaz will have to battle Lindsay Lohan if she wants to get to Jude Law. [BYLTH]

Ryan Seacrest: His Straightest Moments. [Gawker]

Reese Witherspoon jogs the blues away. [Drunken Stepfather]

As I stated previously there is nothing going on. However, I remain very afraid of EvilBeet’s whip and so I’ve got this for your dome:

(re: both entertainers hosting New Year’s Eve shows) Carson Daly has dismissed the idea that he and Ryan Seacrest are in a rivalry to replace New Year’s Eve icon Dick Clark, who suffered a stroke two years ago.

The obvious comment is: How can two entities that suck have a rivalry?

Not much today, kids. Not much at all.

• Gawker’s backstage reporting from the VMAs is worth a read.
• Remember when Ben Affleck was cool? And when he was in a movie, people wanted to see it? Yeah. Not so much now.
• You know how you can tell it’s a really slow news day? Pictures of Jamie-Lynn Spears.
• Ashlee Simpson may or may not be dating Pete Wentz. “Who is Pete Wentz?” exclaims America.
• Pre-VMA report from Page Six: Ryan Seacreast hanging with his gays; Jason Wahler makes Lauren Conrad cry; Brandon Davis may (shhhh) be on drugs.