Newsweek

(Image via YouTube)

Gawker HQ:

The scene at a neighborhood bar in Obama's hometown of Chicago, via commenter psych101 and a "shitty cell phone camera." Looks fun!

Spotted on the Web: Tumblr's HQ:

Commenter supergoddess and her pals are living it up in style, in the tank: "We're pigging out on chili & artichoke dip & maple-bacon cupcakes at my house (and no small amount of wine and bourbon), and totally screaming at the TV. When this photo was taken the photographer said "ONE... TWO... THREE... MAVERICK!"

"And we all laughed."

(Are maple-bacon cupcakes elitist? In the best possible way?)

This one had the subject line "Election Layover" in the subject line, and a terrorist gang sign in the pic:

And another! Clearly in the tank:

From Pareene's cell phone:

From Blakeley's friend Kate!

A night editor whose wife snuck up on him, with a cellphone:

"All the gays who can't marry in FL love them some holograms on CNN...:"

More from the Denton party:

Flacks: Is this person a real reporter? Ask yourself these questions:

1. Is he poorly dressed?

If so, you're probably dealing with an authentic journalist. Also a good option: Google the name on your little Blackberry, for chrissake. Do you find links to articles the person has written on the website of the news publication where he claims to work? Bingo, you've cracked the case.

For regular people trying to pose as journalists to score some of those sweet spring rolls, mini-cheeseburgers, and signature cocktails named for the event sponsor, just follow these simple rules:

1. Dress poorly.
2. Act haughty and self-important.
3. Walk right in, acting surprised that they don't know who you are.
4. Claim to work for a blog. They can't call your boss.
5. Claim to be a freelancer. They can't call your boss.
6. Gaze into the crowd; wave randomly towards the back and shout, "Harvey!" Chuckle. Turn back to flack and say, "Now what's the problem here?"
7. Threats, threats, threats.

If all else fails, pose as a UPS deliveryman. Those guys get in everywhere.
[AMNY via PRNewser]

Now we are officially in another depression. Surely William Randolph Hearst threw opulent Christmas parties during the Great Depression, right? (Well, the Depression saw Hearst lose control of his company and sell off many of his vast and glorious treasures. But he still threw parties dammit.) This Depression must be even Greater! It's official! The only chance Hearst has of making it through the coming dark times is to gin up support for a foreign war, probably. Can we get Marie Claire to work on the Spanish threat, people? The fate Christmas itself hangs in the balance!

“After waiting in an area with an open bar and a DJ, we walked up a driveway illuminated by fluorescent lights to a darkened room where we saw 40 nude women. Most of them were wearing strange masks made of wool. “The models stood in the middle of the room - black girls at the front and white girls at the back. Then the entire album played without any introduction or explanation.”

This is the new standard for everything. Maybe not so fun for the ladies, though.

[via LA Rag Mag. Further...art shots at Kanye's blog]

[UPDATE: Via email: "Hi, Wanted to reach out and clarify that our Monthly Rock Band Bar Night is being postponed b/c of a Microsoft event we are participating in tomorrow evening. We’re looking to reschedule it within the next two weeks. Please attribute this to an MTV Games Spokesperson."]

Beck's Beer Presents: Gawktoberfest
Gawker HQ Roof
Date: 10/23 7 - 10 PM
Food and Beck's Beer will be provided
Note: By filling out our form readers will be opting-in to Beck's Key Club.
As always, standard contest rules apply.

HHW, we hear, has trouble paying its vendors, writers, and photographers. Or just doesn't want to. Either way, lots of people who have done work for the magazine are pissed at it. So it was pretty dumb for HHW to (mistakenly?) blast out an invitation to its 50th issue release party to a long list of contributors who hadn't been paid yet. Cue the responses!

And the kicker:

That's why you should pay people for their work.

[UPDATE: And possibly there will be some sort of protest rally]:

When the video was done, Mr. Murdoch was handed the microphone. "Your whole career defies description," Mr. Murdoch said. "You were not always the most reliable person. I once wrote you a check for $30,000 as a surprise bonus. You were so surprised you spent the whole night in Costello's. The next morning you had to come to me to confess that you'd lost the check. So I wrote a second check. But I didn't give it to you. I gave it to Gloria, who used it to make a down payment on your house, the one you are still living in."

He was also toasted by firemen and the police chief and a priest along with his press baron patron. Lots of drinking was involved. All in all, appropriate. Adios, Dunleavy. Enjoy the Obama administration in peace. [NYO; pic via Tabloid Baby]

That quote is from John Koblin's piece in today's Observer. It's got more gems: Adam Nagourney couldn't find a seat at his own paper's workspace, then bitched about having to cover the convention with so many other, lesser reporters. Fox's Greta Van Susteren, though, was more than happy to be there.

Greta Van Susteren, the Fox News anchor, spent Aug. 25 blogging—“I like the blogging!” she said—and produced 10 blog posts, including an online poll: “What do you think Michelle Obama thinks about Hillary Clinton?”

But there are hardships!

“I don’t like it,” said the Bloomberg News editor Al Hunt, who is covering his 17th convention. “It’s chilly and you can’t hear anything. Have you been to the porta-potties here? Because don’t go.”

Elsewhere in the Observer, Felix Gillette reports that he thought he knocked over Bill O'Reilley's laptop! But no, it was Karl Rove's laptop.

At HuffPo, media critic Rachel Sklar asks Anderson Cooper about the altitude, and Cooper reveals that he wishes he'd had a Bar Mitzvah. If, somehow, Cooper had added that he also wished to be on Saturday Night Live, in a Broadway musical, and Canadian, Sklar probably would've fainted. (After filing 1,500 words.)

And hey, did you know that there are bloggers at the Democratic National Convention? It's true, according to the Chicago Tribune's Washington Bureau. "The political bloggers are here because this week Denver is the center of the Democratic Party's political universe," we're told. Good to know! Even Katie Couric stopped by the blogger area to figure out what bloggers did all day, exactly.

And lovable David Carr, America's Favorite Recovered Crack-Addict-Turned-Times Reporter, hauls his Carpetbagger vlogging suit out of the closet to bug "members of the media" in Denver! Watching this video, we were struck by how these were exactly the same parties that are thrown in DC every week except in Denver. They still look terrible.

Something called "Joint Juice" seems to be the highlight. But there's also hand sanitizer and a free ringtone card! Seriously, why do people go to this? Are journalists so bored and nerdy that the prospect of a hotel party in Denver excites them? It is like the School Band Trip of the National Press Corps, isn't it? We got a better schwag bag at some weird Time Out party we went to this month. It had condoms and Stuff White People Like. We have no use for either of those things but it's still better than Post-It notes!

Attend, in Denver: Any and all "VIP" or "Cocktail Receptions." At night: Creative Coalition, GLBT Unity Dance, Distilled Spirits "Spirits of Denver" Party (alt: Maker's Mark party), Kanye.

Attend, St. Paul: Distilled Spirits, the Maker's Mark thing. Honestly, unless an hour or two of shitty cocktails at an open bar means that much to you you are then advised to go drink with the locals.

Skip: Everything else.

Sacco: "Bungalow 8 London is more like the sophisticated European sister of New York."

Reviewer: "damn right! There are many worthwhile ways to spend your £350 in London - this isn't one of them. You've read the reviews - they are accurate. It is nothing like Bungalow 8 NYC which was so much fun a few years ago..."

Sacco: "And the downstairs opens at eleven o’clock, Tuesday through Saturday, and it’s much more of a clubby vibe than we have in New York."

Reviewer: "I'm a fair person....So I tried EVERY night in the week at Bungalow 8, and I'm talking weekend, early, midnight til late.... and it was a DISASTER....spent over £500 each night on champagne. Waste of money if you ask me."

Reviewer: "The place is very disappointing time after time. Specially compared to other clubs I have membership with. The music is cliche and dull. The members are like a bunch of estate agents, the place itself is like a corridor and the drinks are overpriced. A lot of hot air. I would rate the club lounge at Heathrow Airport higher than this place."

Etc.

[BlackBook, View London]

• Obaigbena's plan to clean up Nigeria has been to host annual parties celebrating officials who stand out as examples of good governance. Attendees at his parties include dangerous model Naomi Campbell, foreign presidents, jugheaded political hack Paul Begala, and Bill Clinton.
• "Mr. Obaigbena has also held a mammoth summer concert series promoting Nigeria’s economic and political progress, the ThisDay festival, luring the likes of Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Diddy and Shakira to perform in Lagos."
• "On Aug. 1, it travels to the Kennedy Center in Washington, headlined by Beyoncé and Seal."
• Critics of Obaigbena in his country say all this partying and celebrity shit does nothing for the poor rural Nigerians who need help the most. But he disagrees. “'We have the longest period of democracy in Nigeria, ever,' said the mogul in March, sitting in a suite at the St. Regis in New York."
• "An elegant man with a blunt, chiefly demeanor and a taste for bespoke Lanvin suits, he maintains a home in Lagos, a country estate in Nigeria’s Delta State and a penthouse at the Ritz Carlton in Washington...'I like to live modestly and discreetly,' said Mr. Obaigbena, with no trace of irony."

He also hangs out with Ice-T and Lil Kim. Starving Nigerians, you are now much more popular with celebrities!

[NYT]

There were many annoyed Time Incers today after learning that People Magazine sent over 300 people to the Bahamas for 3 days while lay offs continue, economy is shaky and Time Inc has a hiring freeze. Many would have preferred they spend the money for a company vacation, on the employees working double since Time Inc wont spend money on needed back up. Instead hiring freelancers, consultants and temps who dont need health care etc. Dancing with the Stars were flown out, Roger Daltry played (for those who dont know who he is, you are not alone) , a youtube singer bored them, they had massages, went to clubs, played golf and ate well. Nice message to Wall Street not to mention the other titles denied sales meetings.

If I don't get into this thing I'm going to fucking die! I already told like 17 chicks to meet me there.

The tone of that email is like a dude who gave a girl herpes but still wants to be friends for her drug connections.

VICE has issued a statement saying anyone turned away from the party tonight will get an Ikea couch.
Thanks VICE!

it was weird. i was on the list and waited for a good hour before finally getting let in but they didn't even look at the list. the guy at the door was just like "you're hot, you can come in" which I thought was fucked up and explained why it took so long.
the weirdest part was i went to the bathroom downstairs and then they wouldn't let me back upstairs (where the bands were) for about 40 minutes, so i ended up missing Vivian Girls.

Satan himself could not have orchestrated a more terrible party!
Where did Santos find these security fuckers?! They were so fucking pushy it killed my buzz.
Hong Kong Blood Gang sucked so many kinds of balls.
This place needs to be shut down, it's no fucking fun at all!!!!!!!
Fuck Santos Play Ground
Fuck Vice and their mothers and their forefathers
Fuck Colt 45
Fuck Nokia N Series
Fuck Santos security, bartender, bar backs, janitors, DJ, lighting/sound techs etc
I guess that covers it

Wasn't not worth not standing in line for.

[Brooklyn Vegan]

According to the London Times, "guests" took $12,000 of jewelry and clothes before cops broke up the party a bit after midnight.

In the invitation, host Jodie Hudson said "Theres gone be a lot of alcohol an amazing DJ." A search for that phrase gives me nothing on Facebook or Bebo (a larger international social networking site), so we still need to find a copy of the invitation that started it all.

"our building had its first pool party this weekend and i thought you would enjoy. the disastrous combo of hedge fund guys, gay guys, and hipsters caused massive combustion resulting in the cops coming, fdny as well, the roof trashed, drugs, booze everywhere and some random people shitting in our gym. i stopped by for a couple hours and saw the disaster in the making! i'm sure you'll read about it in curbed soon. it was one of those 'only in ny' moments."

This would never happen in Topeka.

[Pic via Curbed]

The miracle berries go for $2-3 each. But a single one makes everything in the world taste sweet. And the tasting parties have barely concealed orgiastic overtones:

He believes that the best way to encounter the fruit is in a group. "You need other people to benchmark the experience," he said. At his first party, a small gathering at his apartment in January, guests murmured with delight as they tasted citrus wedges and goat cheese. Then things got trippy.

"You kept hearing 'oh, oh, oh,' " he said, and then the guests became "literally like wild animals, tearing apart everything on the table."

"It was like no holds barred in terms of what people would try to eat, so they opened my fridge and started downing Tabasco and maple syrup," he said.

[NYT. You can buy em wholesale here.]

Oh no! Poor sad Jim McGreevey. At least he has adorable puppies to cheer him up.

Memorial Day Weekend:

• Lily Pond (East Hampton), featuring R&B singer Estelle this weekend.
• Pink Elephant (Southampton), featuring Jaslene Gonzalez of ANTM. The owners of Pink Elephant also opened a large new Southampton club called La Playa, ready for this summer.
• The Surf Lodge (Montauk), featuring reggae star Julian Marley this weekend.
• Blue & Cream (East Hampton) hosts a party for model Maggie Rizer.

• TenJune, which opens its private house, "The Estate." Molly Simm birthday party, May 24.
• DUNE (Southampton): various DJs Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night. Yankees star Alex Rodriguez is expected to attend. Table cost: $2,000.

Other Events: Jason Binn is hosting a party for Kim Cattrall at his house in Southampton Saturday night, and Kelly Ripa is hosting a store opening in East Hampton the same evening, a tipster says.

The positives: $500,000 out of a rich person's pocket. Their absence from the New York metropolitan area from Memorial Day through Labor Day. And Hamptons parties overrun with bandaged, Joker-like figures, grinning grotesquely through their new masks of plastic.

This is like tee-ball for righteous outrage. Give us a challenge, you decadent monsters.

[NYDN]

one problem was for a place that easily charges the highest prices in London (10 quid for a tiny bottle of water...you are having a laugh) it doesn't offer much in terms of entertainment except if you get a kick out of spending crap loads of money and getting little back in return.

We are regulars at Bungalow 8 and on Wednesday evening we went down at 10pm for our usual champagne eve. The waitress took our order twice and came back saying they did not have this and that bottle in stock! The third time we ordered a bottle which was around £100-£150 on the menu approximately. I know because I checked it on the menu. Two bottles later we got a bill for £485. We are not the type to complain or make any sort of fuss, but we were all very disappointed and appalled at the fact that they would deliberately overcharge, thinking just because you can afford it, its ok to do that.

I'm personally very disappointed...

Last night my fiance dragged me down Bungalow 8 for a few drinks, as she has recently received her membership. My god, I was appalled by the manners of the lanky doorman - the tallest door person there with dark brown hair. I can't believe they get away with having staff like that at a reputable club. Anyway, drinks were great, the music was ok, on and off, but the no. of freaks there were the entertaining part of the evening!!We were told it was an A-listers club and considering the membership fees of £300 and the hassle of being 'shortlisted' for the membership, it was a load of K*K.

[Ratings via The View, London. Related: what is this "K*K"?]

A club called Headquarters New York is giving you a perfect excuse to do what you've been dreaming of since this whole scandal broke:

The club, located on West 38th Street, will hold an "Ashley Dupre Look-alike Contest" tonight at 10 p.m. So, if you're feeling like a girl gone wild — or a guy gone wild for that matter — we'd like to see a drag version of the infamous call girl who felled Eliot Spitzer - anyway, the point is, show up at Headquarters tonight.

[Urbanite]

So we know what Scott Storch will be doing tonight.

So at last night's New Yorker's For Children: A Fool's Fete ball at the Mandarin Oriental, there was a silent auction as there usually is at these kinds of things. One of the items being bid on was a gym membership to Equinox which started at $450. The first bid was by a guy named Bronson Van Wyck. You can read about him here and here.

After that PR lady Susan Shin and a guy named Stuart Sussman also bid on the membership but they had crossed out their bids for some reason. The mystery was easy to solve. It was Van Wyck's doing. According to another bidder who was about to outbid Van Wyck, as he was putting down his bid, Van Wyck came up to him and whispered, "Hey, why don't we just cross out all these bids and then we'll just get the membership on the cheap." The counter bidder looked at him with disgust and said, "No, you've got to be kidding me. This is for charity." and refused. So the price went up and Van Wyck, perhaps to mask his crumminess, eventually won it, for $1050.

[pic via Patrick McMullan/ Fashion Week Daily]

The British Library's collections are graced— or littered, depending on your point of view—with a stupendous quantity of erotica among their thirteen million catalogued items. Such is the quantity and quality that the choicest items have a division of their own, the Private Case, a collection of high-end erotica and plain smut that would gratify the most discerning pornophile.

...The British Library is not the sole library with a distinct pornography collection, although it may be the finest. The international porno-pantheon includes the New YOrk Public Library's Humanities and Social Sciences Library, which might now contain more pornography than the newly wholesome Times Square area to which it is adjacent... not only is the material free, browsing is positively encouraged. While not forming a distinct collection, restricted materials "for supervised use" are largely classified under the shelf mark ***."

Inside, brand name hip hop DJs spun 90s classics, and signature Smirnoff cocktails were served. Once the show started, it became clear that Smirnoff had paid a great deal of money for the famous MCs to shout out Smirnoff as many times as possible. The mic was even adorned with a huge, shiny Smirnoff logo that made Q-Tip look like he was wearing a four-finger ring.

Common freestyled, and shouted out Smirnoff. Sway, the MTV host, gave a convoluted disquisition explaining how KRS convinced him that working for MTV was not selling out. Then KRS, one of the most respected MCs of all time, did a set, interspersed with more long explanations about how Smirnoff had an integral connection to hip hop culture, and how the night was a cultural, not corporate, event. KRS is a great rapper, but his politics are straight out of an empty Smirnoff bottle. He eventually ran into the crowd and freestyled, which was very cool.

At the end of the night, they handed out free bottles of water, rather than Smirnoff. Smirnoff is poison.

So actually this is also on her blog with pictures but it is somehow more satisfying, at least to me, to read it without the pictures and to create them in your mind.

Before I get started, just know that the cleaning service I called gave me an estimate of $450. Since most of the damage happened after I passed out, I'm not footing this entire bill. In all the years that I've had parties, I've never so much as even asked for someone to stay and help me clean up, let alone chip in for any of the booze or anything. But today, I'm livid. The people who fucked up my shit know who you are. You have to give me something. I don't care if you're poor. If you can't afford to be an asshole, than you shouldn't act like one.

You can make a deposit into the "I Can Be Tracie's Friend Again" fund via my PayPal account by clicking the following link. You do not need to have a Paypal account in order to do this.

[She includes a PayPal link here]

I've hosted lots of parties in my day, but nothing—nothing—has ever even neared the level of destruction (and blatant disrespect) that happened at my place after I puked and passed out last night. Seriously, this beats out the time that I had a party when my parents went away when I was 17 and Amanda Spence fell down the steps and broke the spokes of the wooden banister, as well as her cheek bone. I understand you guys are party animals, but frankly, I think that some of you are just plain animals. Like wine spilled all over the walls? Are you kidding me?

And it got on my signed Dolly Parton poster, which as some of you know, is one of my most prized possessions in the world.

I heard that Callie fell down the stairs, so I'm assuming that she did this. I also heard that someone poured champagne from the second floor into the Callie's mouth on the first floor. You know, that really fucking pisses me off. There's a fucking television and speakers right there that it could've gotten on, you shit slices. And I know that if that stuff got destroyed, your asses would not compensate me in any way beyond a "Sorry dude." I would never do that in someone's house, whether it's a dump, squat, dorm room or mansion. I wanted people to have a good time. I went out of my way for people to have a good time, and it pisses me off that it was my friends, not strangers, who were doing this shit. I expected a huge mess when I woke up this morning, and expected to do heavy duty cleaning, but this is unreal. I'm fucking pissed.

And who's the asshole who poured beer all over himself? Was that you, Brian? It smells like mildew in here now.

I don't know what the hell was going on in the bathroom downstairs (I do however know about a blow job that went on in the bathroom upstairs...not performed by me), but the shower curtain rod was pulled out of the wall and the rings are broken.

The kitchen suffered damages as well.

There's a hole in the wall, too. It's blurry, but it's there.

I take responsibility for the floors, since the glitter was my idea. It was really pretty when those things popped off.

Oh, and you can't really tell from this picture, but that's an o.b. tampon on my couch. For you boys that don't know, those are the kind you have to finger yourself to use. I don't use them because I don't wash my hands after I use the bathroom.

Anyway, Happy New Year to you all! Even to the assholes who wrecked my place and to the assholes who were the last to leave and left the fucking front door wide open for the entire place to be burgled. I woke up at like 5 am because someone kept calling my phone repeatedly because he thought he left his gloves here. Apparently it was urgent for him to get them, but I'm glad he called, because otherwise, I would've slept through the night with the roof door and the apartment door open.

Also, my ass has the biggest bruise on it and I can't really walk. And this happened to my arm:

I am unable to move. Seriously, my ass is really fucked up. I can't bend over, which is why I called a cleaning service to come here, because it is not humanly possible for me to do this alone. I didn't even include the roof pictures, because there was a pile of chunky puke up there, and as a hangover present, I decided to not include that.

10.The Cobrasnake. Holiday Crutches photo #8283: On most people, that t-shirt would be ironic.

9.The Cobrasnake. Christmas Pash photo #7946: Someone might want to break the bad news to these girls that Santa and the Elves can't wrap up attention and put it under their trees.

8. Last Night's Party. Le Baron photo #0078: Sometimes, when I'm doing this job every week, I see pictures of people like this guy, and a little voice in my heart whispers, "I wish we could be best friends forever."

7. The Cobrasnake. Christmas Pash photo #7833: Yeah he looks like a greeting card from 5 years ago in Hipsterville, but you've got to admit, it's pretty adorable when college freshmen first discover The Strokes.

6. Nicky Digital. Loose @ Vine Bar photo #69878: "Chill" indeed.

5. The Cobrasnake. Holiday Crutches photo #8343: "Brooo, those 3-D glasses are SO rad. When you, like, look in the mirror, do you actually see not one, but THREE dicknoses?"

4. Last Night's Party. Le Baron photo #1490: This is why hipster fashion ambiguity must be stopped. Sure, sometimes it's all fun and games with the ironic shirts and wacky 80's sunglasses, but before you know it, you've got a terrifying Sex Instructor In A Tiger Hat on your hands, and people really start to get hurt (raped).

3. The Cobrasnake. Greater Then photo #0106: I'm not a violent guy, and I know this chick is just screwing around, but I secretly like to fantasize that she was warbling some shitty Joanna Newsom rip-off acoustic poem and someone finally just came up and punched her in the face.

2. The Cobrasnake. Christmas Pash photo #7880: I think this guy's stylist must be a colorblind ex-raver who ecstasied himself into non-functioning retardation.

1. The Cobrasnake. Holiday Crutches photo #8385: Jesus Christ, scary sequined nightmare Santa vest. It's fucking Christmas, would you please just knock it off?