Oh, and before the hate comments start pouring in, Moby said it! We don't think that Britney's fat. She's just looks like your average American girl now. Your average American girl who doesn't live in New York, L.A. or Miami.

New York magazine recently called you a "stealth slut." What does that mean?

More often than not, whenever gossip has been written about me, the gossip is more interesting than the reality. I know some public figures hate gossip, but personally I like it because it makes my life sound more glamorous and interesting than it really is.

A part of me wants to sort of try and sound cool and feed this myth that I'm some sort of glamorous lothario, but I was raised by women — my mother and her mother and my aunts — and as a result most of my friends have always been women. So I guess some people in the media will see me with lots of different women and assume that I'm dating all of them, and as unsexy as this might sound, they're just my friends. Of course, I'm not a saint; occasionally I go out and get drunk and go home with a stranger, but I'm not at Tommy Lee levels or anything.

My, thanks! But Moby, how to you keep up this frantic Lothario pace at your age?

Is it a little bit more difficult now that you're older, staying out late and going to clubs?

No — if anything, I go out more and stay out later now than I ever have. The only difference is, the recovery time is longer. When I was 19, going out and drinking all night, by noon the next day, you're fine. And now, the hangovers really do last 24 hours. It's almost like every hour that I'm out drinking is going to involve four hours being hung over. The ratio just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

See, as a barely functioning alcoholic, I've tried every hangover cure. I'll stumble into the deli, and they'll have some new Russian hangover medicine, or I'll read online that it's all about bananas; it's potassium. The only thing I've found that works for me is water and Xanax. You take a Xanax, you drink a lot of water, you go to sleep for six hours, and that usually helps.

You've been such an ally to the gay community that you've taken some heat for it — like when you stated in an interview that gays were "superior to straight people." Do you stand by that?

Yeah, and I also said that if and when I ever have children, I want gay children, which didn't really endear me to the Christian right wing of America. There are a lot of people in the world who are virulently homophobic or misogynistic or anti-Semitic, and what baffles me is that if you just look at it empirically, gays, women, and Jews are certainly responsible for far fewer violent crimes than straight white guys. They've started fewer wars, and they tend to be well educated, fun to hang out with, and they have nice homes, bars, and restaurants.

....

You've described yourself as "neither straight nor gay." Do you consider yourself bisexual?

I just like to think of myself as being pretty open-minded. Also, you never know what the future might bring, so I have no idea. It's a cliché to say this, but in a perfect world, the dichotomous definition of straight and gay would probably carry less weight.

Fine, hush now!

• Britney Spears hanger-on Sam Lutfi must henceforth keep 250 yards from the singer because as Britney's mom reminded us, he "gave Britney Spears pills ground up in her food to keep her quiet and at one point he told Britney she had to take 10 pills a day if she wanted to see her two young children." [Reuters]
• Lutfi's lawyer tried to say he wasn't properly served with the restraining order paperwork. The judge basically laughed. Lutfi's legal team then asked if the judge would like maybe a home-made scone or some coffee or maybe an "aspirin."
• Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes will supposedly come to Prince's hot Oscar party, along with Penelope Cruz. When the catfighting and Scientology recruiting speeches begin, scoot on over to the real LA Oscar party, hosted by queen diva Elton John.
• Ryan Phillippe endorsed Obama, and has the cool Shepard Fairey t-shirt to prove it. Against all odds, the left-of-Hillary, cool and charismatic black Democratic candidate is dominating among gorgeous celebrities. [X17]
• Brangelina were confused, until they realized Clint Eastwood and his wife were waiting for them at the uncool restaurant across the street. Then everyone not pregnant ordered wine and got drunk and happy. Lesson: Clint Eastwood likes to drink. Oh, and you'll usually have a better time at the uncool restaurant! [Showbiz Spy]
• Teen star Miley Cyrus apologized for not wearing her seatbelt in a movie or raising your children for you or transforming you into a responsible human being who has better things to do than yell at a teen star over some stupid shit. [AP]
• Riverbank Hotel staff "baffled" that Amy Winehouse trashed her room over two weeks, leaving "the floor strewn in champagne bottles and unwashed knickers." Maybe if she had checked in under the assumed name "I Live To Trash Hotel Rooms" they might have seen this coming. Probably not, though. [Showbiz Spy]
• Eminem to finally let the world in on his family dramas and emotional issues, in a book. [People]
• Moby thinks people hate him because Natalie Portman was his girlfriend this one time. Oh, Moby. [P6]

From the paper:

Moby, who began playing just after 5pm this evening, started off with well known tracks, such as 'Honey', 'Natural Blues' and 'Why does my heart feel so bad', but soon began to run out of material because he, and singer Joy Malcolm had not rehearsed.

He continued: "It was good. we did not announce anything and I did not even tell any of my friends in the UK, so it was very impromptu.
"We ran out of actual singles, so we started improvising and playing the Blues. Joy started making up lyrics - she's fearless."

Stuck in the subway, and I've run out of all my hits I said, I'm stuck in the subway, and I've run out of all my hits Hasn't been this bleak down here, oh baby, since the London Blitz. I'm too old to cry and I'm too young to carry on. I said, I'm too old to cry and I'm way to young to carry on (don't you know, baby girl?) I live in New York City, but wooo (Falsetto) I grew up in Darrien.

Heavy black eye makeup, black hat and walking casually with someone. I know, everyone sees her, her and Moby in NoLita. I think I've seen them like five times! Maybe next time i will say hi.....i bet they are craving a friendly "hello neighbor!" :)

Tonight is Kol Nidre; tomorrow, the Jews of the world apologize to anyone who will listen about all their conniving heeb behavior during the previous lunar year. On Saturday, city and state machers (and anyone who shelled out $150 for the honor of dovening next to Gov. Spitzer) can be found self-flagellating at Temple Emanu-El. Observant lesbians will be found beating their hoary bosoms at the prestigious Park Slope Jewish Center. Hipster Jews in pink tights will like pray or whatever at The Shul of New York, the Mr. Black of synagogues. So in the spirit of atonement and definitely wanting to end up in the Book of Life , here's a list of individuals to whom I'd like to apologize.

Moby Finally Finds a Buyer for Upper West Side Penthouse [NYM]

Moby is a man divided. And by divided, I mean "is a massive hypocrite." By day, Moby dines at veggie bistros and wears sunglasses purchased on St. Marks, but at night—while rainforests are being destroyed and glaciers are melting—he sleeps peacefully curled up under his bear-skin blanket beneath the whirring sound of the central air conditioning that cools his modest 1,500 square foot apartment.

They say Moby originally moved uptown because of his disgust for the gentrification of downtown, with its proliferation of Calypso stores and Starbucks. In an effort to escape the LES bourgeois citadel, Moby moved to a $4.5 million apartment in the El Dorado on the UWS, where he could shop with the poor at Zabar's and slum it for brunch at Sarabeth's. Perhaps realizing the irony of his choices and the inconvenient truth of his energy bill, Moby, "racked with class guilt," then put his 3-story apartment on the market for a paltry $7.5 million, in an effort to reunite with the masses and prove that he is indeed... whatever it is that he wants to be. Moby's feast at Counter was the last horseman of the Apocalypse—he's back, and downtown is now officially as played out as, well, Moby's Play.

Unfortunately, Moby is not content to simply ruin several Manhattan neighborhoods. (Question: Why has he never taken to Brooklyn?) He is also in the business of ruining lives. Instead of saving the environment at Live Earth—like Ludacris who sang "Pimpin' All Over"—Moby was at home in his solar powered kitchen complaining about the concession stand options. Instead of supporting our glorious war in Iraq, Moby is inciting murderous rage by serving shitty granola at his restaurant, Teany. And let us never forget how he completely RUINED Z100 for an entire summer when they were forced to play his Muppets Casio creation, "South Side," ad nauseam.

And here he is now, returning to the Lower East Side. Please do not issue him a check for $7.5 million. Boycott the undersized and overpriced crumpets at Teany. Let us return Moby to his rightful place: not on the UWS, not in the LES, but in the Keebler tree, where he will be free to bake delicious rainbow chip cookies all day long and be of some use to society.

Previously: Alec Baldwin Feels Inadequate

hi, as some of you might know, 2 years ago i bought an apartment on central park west at 90th. it still stands as the most interesting and unique apartment i've ever seen in new york city, but i've decided to move back downtown and am now going to put the apartment back on the market.

"Hi Moby," said a downtown art star who, when she's wearing a fruit headdress, is known as Carmen Mofongo. She was in civilian mufti last night so maybe that's why Moby was like "Mph." He and his posse were headed out; they had only stayed for the meat of the debate, which was on the topic of "Is It Better To Be Dumped or To Dump Someone?" It is interesting to think about what side of this issue Moby falls on; maybe "better to be dumped because then you don't have to feel obligated to underwrite the dumpee's vegan teahouse business," but that's just a wild guess.

Reverend Jen opened the debate by explaining why it's worse to be the dumpee. Her main contention was that it's worse because while you're being dumped, this is what the dumper is essentially saying to you: "Remember that awesome blow job you gave me last week? I never want that again." Point Reverend Jen.

Then Katherine Taylor, who once won us over by calling out Indecision for being "simple," took the floor. She was wearing shiny, possibly leather, pants and pointy nude heels. She was tasked with arguing that dumping someone is worse than being dumped, which seems counterintuitive but is actually sort of correct. "Being dumped is out of your hands, like being hit by a bus is out of your hands," she explained.

Unfortunately, this was pretty much the only funny thing she said. The rest of the time she was just sort of studiedly earnest and a little too enamored of her own cleverness. And these problems seem extend to the small part of her book we've managed to read so far, but we're trying hard to reserve judgment till we've read more! After all, the Kunkel thing is still priceless. She went on to talk about guilt and how a little sliver of doubt haunts you for the rest of your life. But Reverend Jen had the last word: "Most relationships boil down to a choice: sex or self-respect."

Well, for the most part it's an honest-to-goodness residential neighborhood. Downtown is still interesting, but living there had become a bit too much like living in a shopping mall for rich Europeans. [As opposed to living in a neighborhood that actually boasts a real shopping mall for rich Europeans!] It might sound odd, but I'd rather be in danger of getting run over by someone pushing a stroller or walking a dog than someone seeing how many Calypso stores they can visit in an afternoon.

Trader Monthly

Sometimes we feel bad for Moby. After all, just because someone is overly self-righteous and makes boring music doesn't mean everyone should hate on him!

But then we read things like his interview on Paper magazine's website, and, well, the goodwill we'd stored up floats away like so many mid-'90s Ecstasy tablets. Some of the highlights:

"Most of my music isn't really electronically generated, I just somehow got tagged with the 'techno' label, so even if I write quiet classical music for a film people still think of me as the techno guy."

Oh, boo-fucking-hoo. More Mobyisms after the jump.

How would you say your tastes and creativity is different today than when you were part of the hardcore scene?

They haven't changed much, actually. I've always liked just about everything.

How long have you been a vegan?

19 years. With one lapse...I had yogurt in 1992.

If you had to write down one flaw to wear as a banner around your neck, what would it be?

I worry too much.

We'd give you more, but we just fell asleep.

Moby on the Go [Paper]

my email fast has become an email diet. i'm restricting myself. my original idea was to get rid of: phone, email, internet, etc, and just sit on my front stoop for an hour a day. it seemed like such a civilized idea. if you wanted to talk to me you could just meet me on my stoop. it ultimately seemed to be a bit too impractical.

Wake us when it's over, k?

ok, some random things: [Moby, via Stereogum]

Earlier: Gawker's coverage of Moby

We're not going to judge you too harshly, Mobe. We know how hard it is to stay off "Casual Encounters" too.

Moby Turned Off His Computer For A Day [Stereogum]

Earlier: Moby Just E-Mailing You To Tell You He Will Never E-Mail You Again

> From: moby
> Date: Sep 15, 2006 5:31 AM
> Subject: might sound crazy, but...
> To: MOBY HALL
>
>
> well, this might sound crazy.
> ok, most likely it will sound crazy.
> but it's something that i'm going to try...
> at present i receive between 200-400 emails a day.
> and i check on-line news around 15 times a day.
> so, for the rest of the year, i'm turning off my email and i'm not
> going
> to use the internet.
> yes, that sounds nuts, i know.
> if you want to get in touch with me you can call me or visit me or
> send me a letter.
> i'll make it easy:
>
> my phone: [redacted]
>
> my home: [redacted]
>
> so, write me or call me.
> oh, i don't have an answering machine. so if i'm not here you'll have
> to call back.
> who knows, this might be a disaster.
> or it might make me more sane.
> i promise to pick up the phone if i'm here.
> and if you visit i'll answer the door.
> eh, we'll see how it goes.
> it's only until january 1st, 2007, at which point i'll check my email
> and let you know what it's
> like not having email/internet/answering-machine/cell-phone.
> my email/internet will be off starting...now(ok, not 'now', but 'in 2
> minutes').
> just think of me as your crazy friend who's trying an experiment.
> -moby
>
> p.s-really, you wanna come visit? i'll be here.

Ah Mike Myers — living proof that no matter what George Clooney says, Gawker Stalker is simply a harmless tool we civilians can use to observe, from a non-threatening distance, the life of a celebrity. And let's face it; if the Stalk had a hall of fame, a Mike Myers wax figure would be right next to the re-creation of Lindsay Lohan in a bathroom stall at Bungalow 8.

For this reason, the above sighting filled us with joy when it arrived in our inbox. Mike has had a rough time of it over the past year. First, there were the months leading up to his divorce from wife-of-12-years Robin Ruzan, in which an increasingly bloated and inebriated Mike was spotted all over the city.

More recently, Myers seemed to have turned to hockey to fill the gaping void of lost love, refusing to leave the house without the comfort of his stick. (We typically use food, but he's Canadian, they're weird.)

Now it looks like Mike has found himself a new love, one of the female variety. The hipster in question would appear to be Kelly Tisdale, former girlfriend of bald-techno-guy Moby and co-owner of the hipster den Teany. Googling reveals that Mike and Kelly even took a romantic vacation together to Hawaii back in June.

So congratulations, Mike. Despite our sometimes less-than-charitable nature, we are truly happy to see you happy. Now maybe make a movie that doesn't absolutely blow, and we can begin to justify the amount of coverage we give you.

Gawker Stalker

I had a vegan dinner with Moby the other night during that big electrical storm and he ended up holding my rather large dog in his lap half the time ...

There's more on the evening of sparky, canine hijinks with popstar vegan tea-lover Moby, plus the man's own ode to loving New York. Proceed at your peril.

Moby's New York [Paper]

[Photo: Getty Images]

Of course, we've no evidence that the revelers were doing any illegal drugs. The girl could very well be taking melatonin, and we're just looking at pictures from a slumber party.

Moby's Walton-esque Champagne Room [Animal]

While nothing can cover the emotional cost of $6 wheat-free carob cookies gone to waste, Gothamist reports that the staff was given one week's compensation pay — which should be just enough for them to invest in some new tattoos and pixie haircuts.

Update: Moby blogs a correction himself: Teany is just shutting down for a few weeks for remodeling, and so your stupid Vegan roommate will live another day.

BREAKING: Ta Ta To Teany— Totally True! [Gothamist]

The gang hopes to turn the land into a "utopian community" for the repulsively rich called Playa Grande. Imagine a sweeping, majestic white beach festooned with hemp hammocks, Day-Glo umbrellas and the cast of The Birdcage playing paddle ball. Fire Island is so over.

Fareed Zakaria's Fantasy Island [Gridskipper]
Mr. Zakaria Builds His Own Utopia [NYO]

Small world.

Moby Moves Uptown [NY Mag]

· "I saw a baseball cap-clad Calista Flockhart walking hand in hand with her son, Liam (sans Harrison) in Chelsea. She actually looked healthy and not as scary as I had imagined she would be (but that may have been the old Ally McBeal reruns rearing their ugly heads)."
· "i think i saw brenda from 'six feet under' last night on smith street in brooklyn."
· "I saw that Spiderman kid Tobey McGuire walking around Nolita last night with some kind of weird exotic pet. It kind of resembled a baby kangaroo. He was wearing a cowboy hat and he singing "Flagpole Sitta" rather loudly. I went up to ask him for an autograph and he said "No habla Espanol." He's kind of short too and has some ugly little pimples on his chin."
· "Went to Nobu and was seated in the back next to Britney Spears (whose hair did, indeed, look as terrible as everyone says) and her friend (not sure who it was, but it could have been a bodyguard-though I hesitate to say as much simply because he was big and black). They left soon after we arrived, so no eavesdropping, alas. On the way out saw Jay-Z dining at the front-most booth with this actor/producer guy whose name I can't place and his son. No Beyonce."
· "moby, 10:56a.m. (just now). deli on spring and lafayette. bought new york mag, the economist, and spin. looked sorta paranoid, but probably because i was staring to make sure it was him and not one of the hundreds of other slight, bespectacled, bald guys around i always mistake for moby. cross tattoo on neck clinched it."
· "Michael Bloomberg, 11 AM, [Friday] near the MSG/Penn Station/awful suburban industrial park like area (32 &7th Ave). I was outside smoking ironically enough. He was with two very clean cut looking bodyguard types, and smiling (improbably)"
· "liv tyler at the evan dando gig at joe's pub"
· "I went to the Cirque du Soleil premiere last night at Randalls Island. It was as if a celebrity bomb was dropped. Here we go, Moby, Isabella Rosellini, that Steven whatshisname that does the fashion segments on the Today show, we actually chatted for a few minutes he didn't want the paparazzi to take his picture because "his hair wasn't big enough", Donald Trump, Bridget Hall, Tara Reid, Tim Robbins, Susan Sarandon, Naomi Cambell, Stephanie Seymour, Chloe Sevigny, Danny Aiello, Annabella Sciarra, Deborah Harry... that's all I can remember. It was off the hook."
· "I saw the lady who played Barney Miller's wife on Barney Miller on Lafayette Street by the Joseph Papp theater. She was with two middle aged guys. She looked remarkably well preserved, but then again she's one of those people who's always looked around 50."
· "Isabella Rossellini in front of Century building on Central Park West waiting for the doorman to get her a cab at 5:45 pm on 4/24."
· " 4/24 at 6:30 pm on Broadway between 66th & 67th St...Kathleen Turner limping & not looking too great...enough said...let's be nice..."Body Heat" was a very long time ago."

· "Chloe Sevigny - Saturday night - 10ish, Sandy Dalal - Saturday night - 10:30" [where?]
· "Helen Hunt crossing Madison Avenue at 88th Street [yesterday] looking tired from a workout. Maura Tierney at Mare Chiaro in Little Italy Friday quietly enjoying a drink."
· "So here in Edinburgh, Scotland, I spot J.K.Rowling of Harry Potter fame the other day. I knew she lived in my area, but didn't expect to see her walking down the street with her newborn. I was just waitin at the bus stop."
· "I just ate lunch at Angelika s Kitchen and Senator John Kerry was there. He had bread with spread and some steamed vegetables and tofu. Took a fig bar to go. That s my third Angelika s Kitchen celeb sighting in the last three months. I saw Casey Affleck there in February and Sam Rockwell in March."
· "I sat next to Mariel Hemingway on the uptown 1 train on Friday. She was with her daughter."
· "1:07 pm saw jonathon van gieson checking himself out in a starbuck's window."
· "I was hanging out near the Bowery—Nolita, as they say—late Saturday night and as I was coming out of that Rice Pudding Palace or whatever it's called with a big heeping bowl of Cinnamon/Vanilla slop ($4.50 for that shit, can you believe it??) and as I'm walking along eating, I bump into Kate Hudson—that chick from Almost Famous—and she's with some long-haired dude
who looks like he'd just come out of rehab or something. So, I get a little bit of pudding on her white shirt and she starts flipping out! I mean, flipping out! And this long-haired guy wants to like fight me or something because I spilled some pudding on her shirt. He pushes me and slaps the pudding out of my hand. I'm like "Dude, it's fucking pudding. Chill the fuck out!" and he gets all "Watch where your going, you fucking idiot!". And then I get a better look at the guy and it looks like that dude from the Counting Crows, the lead singer. He's such a fucking punk. So, then I'm telling my friend this and she tells me she's married to the guy. She's really pretty, so I don't know why she'd be with that loser.
I mean, I love Mr. Johnson too, but dude, that was like 10 years ago. And it's just fucking pudding. Christ."