Let's get this out of the way first: Although the balance of available evidence would seem to indicate that Chad Lindsey is, in fact, a gay hero, it hasn't exactly been spelled out yet. Queerty asked him whether fanatical blogs such as this one are trying to turn him into the next gay hero:

Hmm. That hadn't occurred to me. It seems we live in a world where we're past that. I know we're not and I have a good idea that we don't, but I don't know. I'm trying to be judicious about how much I even talk. You know what I mean? I mean, "Look dude, you jumped in the train and got someone out, now shut up already." You know? It's enough to say I'm an actor. People are already rolling their eyes.

Never! This cycle of intense and fleeting adulation is all perfectly normal, Chad. Enjoy it before it fades away, next week. He told Queerty he's barely even had time to read the blogs, but when he spoke to Playbill yesterday he'd obviously had time to read the comments of you, the Gawker readers, who hurt his feelings:

"'Smoldering' is hilarious," Lindsey said. "Later in the blog they have comments and somebody wrote, 'We have obviously lowered the level of smoldering considerably.' I was like - Ouch."

We hope you're very proud of yourself. How would you feel if that was the last thing you ever got to say to Chad?

Queerty: Well, if there's anything people should take away from your story, what should it be?
Chad: *car honks* Oh, God, I almost got run over.

Chilling. Chad, now we know you're reading. Email us at once.

However, they'll be happy to tell you their sexploits themselves: they'll be reading at the In the Flesh's True Sex Confessions series this Thursday at the now-nightclub but former "massage" parlor Happy Ending in Manhattan at 8, the same place where "Love guv" Spitzer partied with Slate earlier this week.

Also, "Neal Boulton's wife, Claire, will also be in the audience, and it's her birthday." Those two have an open marriage, as they happily told Page Six Magazine. (We saw Boulton's former makeout buddy, Rolling Stone publisher Jann Wenner, in an Upper West Side Starbucks this Sunday.)

Update from Neal: "you forgot to mention that claire will have her hot girlfriend with her, and I will have my 21 year old boy toy with me and we will all be nude. :-) "

We'll be there with bells on.

[via Nonsociety]

Of course no one cares about Leigh Lezark and Cory Kennedy and Peaches Geldof and even Julia Allison and no offense but their "zero money down" strategy w/r/t talent! This silly idea of Andy Warhol's about everyone getting to be microfamous is just as silly as the idea that everyone in America needs to own a house when obviously they really don't have the "marketable skills" our society would deem worthy of that sort of security. But we invested then-valuable hours in their crappy fundamentals and look what happened: they and Lindsay and Paris and the pothead socialite tranche and the Kardashian tranche and the reformed rapper concubine tranche brought the WHOLE CELEBRITY MARKET crashing down with them. And now it is up to Us Weekly to make sure Sarah Palin doesn't get elected while we at Gawker educate you in the ways of the new communist regime. Look, it is not like people were paying us to give them "AAA ratings." We hated them all along, every one, but we get paid by the page view. That is how the free market works. Or doesn't, I dunno! Anyway thank you market for rallying in support of us trying to figure out complicated things such as "How fucked are the people who don't actually have any money?" Please celebrate the liquidity while it lasts this beautiful cold weekend!

*My roommate, who incidentally stole my October 'Harper's' but that's okay because if she hadn't bought the last like 90 rolls of toilet paper I would be using it to clog the toilet, is the subscriber.

"But first I had to ask [pageant coordinator] Misha one last thing: 'What’s with the MC? No one can understand a word he says.' Misha started sweating missiles. 'This fucking DJ is huge in Berlin!' she sputtered, 'the crowd should be lucky to hear him mumble. So he did a little too much Xanax before the show and maybe a bunch of other stuff.'"

Also, scandal: we hear the newly-crowned Ms. Williamsburg is actually from Jersey...! And that the dude winner is actually coordinator Mischa's sister's boyfriend!

[New York Press; photos Lola Wakefield]

But when I was shooting heroin every day for seven years the last thing I wanted was a girlfriend in addition to my all-consuming vice. Junkies had expensive habits, rarely wanted to have sex and were an all-around reminder of why I hated myself. So I had a string of flings with straight girls that would last until my behaviors added up to something that—even if they couldn’t place—were impossible for them to ignore. The last of these relationships was with a tiny 19-year-old brunette who made me desperately want to kick dope...

We're sincerely glad he's clean now. The lesson here has nothing to do with drugs, however. The lesson is the "who?" you thought after "Matt Harvey." (Nothing against Matt—you're just the example here, dude.) Internet microfame is short and fleeting. But oh, how fun it is to elevate people to miniceleb status until it becomes theater of the absurd.

(It's not that absurd if you think about it, however—if the many blogs of the world are gonna insist on churning out content 24-7, we're going to all need some entertainers to provide us with freaking content. Microcelebs serve this purpose.)

Enjoy your fifteen minutes while it lasts, folks.

It's not really that riveting or particularly clever, but that's not the point: fake sex diaries are how you know you've made it as a micro-celeb (for a couple minutes.) Fake anything (Steve Jobs, Nick Denton) being created in your name is simply one of the Internet's strange customs.

[Fake Sex Diaries]

"Hello! I'm Julia's intern and we're currently working on compiling some emails from readers. Julia loves part of your email (below), and we'd like to include your last name, age and where you live (city and state) along with it.

The email has only been read by Julia and myself. Currently, Julia is just using your email for her own personal collection, but I will update you if anything should change.

Thanks so much,

Samantha"

One more bit from Jules for the prospective new intern(s): "PS. Please let us know if you would be comfortable on camera. It’s TOTALLY okay if you’re not, we just need that info for planning purposes." Oh, right, for that imaginary TV show!

Since many blogs have a readership of one — or, at best, the writer, his mother and some guy he sat next to in seventh grade who found him on Google — piggybacking on a more popular site offers a wider audience for a keyboard jockey's gripes and quips. Not everyone is up to the task of creating a blog with the kind of consistent tone and provocative topics that attract visitors.

The real-life identity of one of Gawker's most frequent contributors, and a best of the week honoree, LolCait, was a mystery to the editorial staff until a few weeks ago. That's when Richard Lawson, a 24-year-old sales coordinator in the Gawker Media ad department, who was worried his insider status could be discovered and ethically embarrass the company, confessed that he was LolCait.

His success shows how good commenting has become social currency online. Mr. Lawson, who studied playwriting in college, said he started leaving comments after he was hired five months ago, just to see if he could survive the audition as a Gawker-approved commenter. He made it...

"That was when some of the other commenters started saying, 'Hey, I like your stuff,'" Mr. Lawson said in a telephone interview...

Since he confessed, Mr. Lawson's job responsibilities have grown, although he has not received a raise. He was put in charge of choosing the best comments of the week.

And now, for the first time ever, a video of a blog commenter commenting. Herewith, "A Commenter's Art: LOLCait Live."

All-Stars of the Clever Riposte [NYT]