Maybe you think Vince Vaughn has had his day. Maybe you think he's just gotten older and lazier, and has been playing the same character in every movie since Swingers. Maybe you think he's gained an impressive amount of fat on his 6-foot-5-inch frame. Maybe you've never forgiven him for dating Tori Spelling. All true, but it takes nothing away from his appeal to the ladies. Ask around. Men think he's bloated, puffy and one-note. Women think he's bloated, puffy, one-note ... and totally sexy. We know, deep down, that he's no good for the long term. Just watch him in Old School when he's got his son strapped to his chest in a BabyBjörn. He looks pained and awkward, like the second the take is over, he can't wait to fling the kid back to the baby wrangler and cuddle up to a nice warm shot of bourbon. If I were breaking up with Brad Pitt, I'd head straight for super-manly Vince too. But remember, Aniston, Vince isn't for keeps-just for fun.

I'm a diehard Page Six fan. This daily New York Post gossip column is full of juicy celebrity and powerbroker tidbits, easy-to-decipher blind items and, mercifully, no mention of Angelo Cataldi or Howard Eskin. But these days I'm totally obsessed with Ted Casablanca, who's deliciously catty weekly column the Awful Truth has just been switched to a daily format by the evil geniuses at E! Online. Casablanca scoops just about everyone, proclaims as loudly and clearly as the E! legal department will allow that every rail-thin celebrity stays that way by snorting copious amounts of cocaine, and has blind items that are elaborately detailed and tantalizingly hard to figure out. Even better, while he won't tell you who the blind item is, he'll tell you who it isn't. Reading Casablanca has always been something of a challenge as he writes in a bizarre staccato of abbreviations, slang and oh-my-gawd!-ness, but the site now features "The Awful Decoder," a handy glossary of Tedspeak, where you can just roll over the unrecognized word, like "soosh" which will prompt the definition "Uhhh sushi ... Hel-lo?" or "fag" which apparently means "cigarette ... or Ted Casablanca."

Malls are bad. They're ugly and stifling, and everyone in them is wearing velour sweatsuits, whether or not they really should be. Franklin Mills, with its weird Benjamin Franklin theme and massive suburban sprawl, is one of the worst offenders, but its Blue Zone, a strip of higher-end retailers, makes it worth visiting-if you're the kind of person who gets a thrill from finding Seven jeans for $65 instead of $165. As a skilled bargain shopper (who trained for years at the Sorbonne of bargain shopping, the original Filene's Basement in Boston), I give the Blue Zone my stamp of approval. There's Saks' Off-Fifth, an enormous H&M and Last Call Neiman Marcus, which has a rack of luxury couture gowns. If you're feeling blue, rifling through Narciso Rodriguez dresses that cost thousands of dollars without a snotty saleswoman eyeballing you and your moth-eaten sweater truly is one of life's great pleasures.

I love my cat, Moto-Kitty del Fuego, but scooping up her little pucks of hardened cat pee and shoveling around in a litter box for her buried stash of shit kibbles isn't near the top of my list of fun. I'd been coveting the very expensive as-seen-on-TV automatic litter box, which cleans itself at regular intervals with an internal rake, until I got an email from self-appointed arbiters of cool www.DailyCandy.com . DailyCandy's messages are usually fashion or beauty-related, but this particular one profiled CitiKitty, a toilet-training system for your cat. It's a round litter box with removable inner rings that fit over your toilet seat. Fill it with litter and remove the rings week by week while Puss practices her aim. Eventually she won't realize the rings and litter are gone and voila!-she'll just climb up on the pot, drop trou and settle in with the morning papers. I'm not sure if my cat will go for it, but it's worth a try, so I'm saving up the $29. If it works, I think this settles once and for all the question of whether dogs or cats are smarter. Success stories are posted on the CitiKitty website, although, interestingly, there aren't any stories about how you'll now have to wait for both your roommate and your cat to quit hogging the bathroom.

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