As any media outlet knows, the way to attract the attention of the D.C. big wigs at the White House Correspondents' Association dinner, held Saturday, is to seat celebrities at your table. It's like bringing cheerleaders to a chess club social (except in the case of President Bush, who was a cheerleader and doesn't really understand chess). For the stars' part, it's their chance to prove they aren't all airheads. So they strutted up a red carpet into the so-called Hinckley Hilton in Washington, posing for CSPAN, screaming fans, and the paparazzi. Then inside, away from the brain-numbing flashbulb frenzy, they pretended to find the President's speech remotely entertaining. It was a clip reel, really, but then again last year, he canned his speech out of respect for the Virginia Tech massacre victims. And everyone, really.

We're getting ahead of ourselves, though. First, to the red carpet!

Tweens who filled out the gawker throng let loose glass-shattering shrills for the likes of Nick-bots the Jonas Brothers, "McSteamy" Eric Dane, other Simpson Ashlee and her pocket pal Pete Wentz, and breakthrough fashion visionary Lauren Conrad. Those above age 14 were treated to glimpses of Tracy Ullman, Morgan Fairchild (who, unlike Donatella Versace, looks more natural in person than on TV), Newt Gingrich, and a relatively subdued Perez Hilton. The strangely ubiquitous BunnyRanch man-madam Dennis Hof (wearing a promotional baseball cap so people would know him) filed in just ahead of U.N. punker Colin Powell.

Martha Stewart was, true to form, less than gracious with the masses. Fox News's Megyn Kelly set tongues to wagging and paps to wagering on when her extremely low-cut dress would provide the party with a requisite nip-slip. At the parties surrounding the main event, we spotted CNN's Christiane Amanpour looking almost as stunning as her husband and former Clinton cabinet member Jamie Rubin, Catherine Bell (of JAG "fame") staring up at the leaves on the trees, Doug Feith looking about like you would expect the "stupidest fucking guy on the planet" to look, Pamela Anderson looking more like a Barbie doll in person than one would expect (especially if you're a horny guy in a Brooks Brothers suit), and Tucker Carlson in something other than a bow tie holding the attention more people than ever watched him on TV.

Rosario Dawson smartly arrived late to the pre-party—after the dinner chimes dinged and the majority of the press had departed, so she had time to chat and pose with actual fans and act as cool as most of the characters she plays. People table-hopped during the dinner, celebs were mobbed with picture requests from political bold-faced names and everyone got drunk enough to convincingly applaud Bush's less-than-original speech while itching to get to the after parties.

Of course, no one knew it had begun to pour outside, so car service was a total SNAFU. Bloomberg staffers walked people to the Costa Rican embassy where one after party was being held (under leaky tents). John McCain's Straight Talk Express was turned into a sort of Noah's Ark for anyone who could manage to avoid mentioning the name Obama.

The award for inappropriateness goes to Wentz who was spinning at the Capitol File party at the Newseum and blurted out things like, "I want to thank champagne for getting me drunk tonight and my girlfriend's vagina for getting me fucking hot." So D.C.! (She better be careful or she's gonna get double pregnant!) His hypery and mix of "99 Problems" and "99 Red Balloons" wasn't enough, however to lure Kal "Kumar" Penn into a booty clap, robot, or even a light caustic potash, but Wolf Blitzer and Dana Bash did bust significant moves. Christopher Hitchens hosted the Vanity Fair party his place, which was the mellowest stop of the evening (no thanks to Kumar's glaring lack of intoxicants). It was easy to hold Matt Cooper in contempt, as he seemed to be some kind of media wraith, everywhere at once. Does he have a book out or something? Who knew he was a scene whore?