At the awards it went down thus:

the PR man told Tank that Page Six boss Richard Johnson wanted an introduction. Tank responded, "We're not talking to them. No pictures, nothing." The PR man conveyed the message to Johnson. "He just wants to say hi," Mr. PR pleaded with Tank. But Tank had made up his mind: No Levi for Johnson. "That's fine," said the Page Six editor before heading back downstairs.

But it clearly wasn't fine. Today, under the headline 'Levi Johnston a prima donna' is a very unflattering story about the young Playgirl model displaying diva-ish behavior at JFK and snubbing, of all people, Jason Alexander of Seinfeld to get on a plane first. The end line is brutal:

We wish Levi would just zip it up and head back to the Alaskan oil fields.

Hell hath no fury like an eminent gossip columnist scorned.

He did a remarkable job of not saying much. At 8:15 the party had barely begun at the downtown hotspot, known for its strict velvet rope and the racy performances on its main stage, the gregarious Tank Jones and his brother Marvin (in the role as Levi's trainer) were some of the first people to arrive. They installed the one-time human campaign prop at a table in the corner of the balcony so that several PR people could start the parade of press. The rest of the venue was practically empty, but everyone was clustered around Levi.

As the Observer's John Koblin interviewed Playgirl's spokesman Daniel Nardicio about the future of the magazine, the Levi interviews started. Everyone made way for a camera crew from Entertainment Tonight, which has exclusive access to Levi for all the behind-the-scenes action for the photo shoot that is taking place right now (if everything goes according to schedule). We didn't get close enough to hear what they asked during their ten minutes with Levi.

As they clear out, there were more print interviews to do. Michael Musto came by to say hi, but he interviewed Levi at his hotel earlier. I asked Musto if he was a good interview. He said yes, but agrees that it's hard to get him to say much. Jo Piazza from CNN came in and taped a few second with the Johnston crew. Before she started her interveiew, Tank said he's not answering questions about Sarah Palin or about suing for custody of Tripp, Levi's son with Palin's daughter Bristol. Then he flirted with her a little bit as she squeezed in next to Levi to ask her questions. Most of the questions were the same all night: How is this different from Alaska? What is he going to show? Is he ready for the shoot? Does he know that he's a gay icon? Will he do more porn? What does the future hold?

Levi always answers with the fewest words possible. This may make him appear a bit dim, but it seems a smart move for a guy who's standing around a bunch of people paid to turn any utterance he makes into "news." With the reporters gone, he quietly joked with Tank and Marvin.

When Piazza was done, he joked a bit with Nardicio, teaching him how to tuck a dollop of chew under his lip. "Don't you throw up on this table!" Tank chided. A PR person came by and said there were more interviews to be done. "I know. This isn't my first rodeo," Levi said. Another reporter sat down, this one from People. They knew to send a pretty girl.

When she left, the PR man told Tank that Page Six boss Richard Johnson wanted an introduction. Tank responded, "We're not talking to them. No pictures, nothing." The PR man conveyed the message to Johnson. "He just wants to say hi," Mr. PR pleaded with Tank. But Tank had made up his mind: No Levi for Johnson. "That's fine," said the Page Six editor before heading back downstairs. After he left, Tank complained about a Page Six item accusing Levi having a small dick and thus afraid to do any full-frontal shots: "That's not true!"

There was a break in the action and a PR girl brought by the trophy Levi will receive later in the evening: an 11-inch dildo made of silver. Everyone at the table laughed nervously and made jokes about how Levi isn't going to accept a dildo. Levi returned his trophy to the nice lady and said, "I can't believe I just won a giant silver dildo." He and Tank conferred and decide there can't be any pictures taken of him holding it, so they plan to have Nardicio take the stage with him and hold the award.

Then the photographers arrived. In groups of two, they came by the corner, their flashbulbs blinding in the dark club. Levi knew to look directly into the camera and then occasionally look away to blink. He didn't look like he was having any fun. When all that was over, he passed some time ogling the scantily-clad go-go dancers down below. Tank said, "Those are all real women right? I don't want to look if they're not real women." Another laugh. Nardicio tells them that they're all real women. I pointed out that there were definitely some drag queens in the mix. "That's OK, I didn't want those ones anyway," Levi responded. He told me that he hadn't had any time to go out and party while in New York City. "It's been all work. I'm all about business," he says. "But I like New York more each time I come here." What does he think about this event? "It's different," is all he'll say.

As the show starts, Gawker alum Joshua David Stein showed up asking questions for New York magazine. It was getting loud, the house was full. Tank informed him they'd do an interview later. Levi leaned over the balcony to watching the award ceremony on stage and performances by the likes of boy/boy/girl aerialist trio Mantryx. When the intermission came, the crew decided to go outside for some air.

Out on the sidewalk, it is a whole different scene. Dressed in identical tuxedos like they all went shopping at the same men's store earlier that evening, they moved as a unit. Flanked by two enormous black men, Levi wasn't easy to approach. That didn't stop the reporters. Kelefa Sanneh from the New Yorker came up received a stern lecture from Tank about not asking about Palin or custody. Sanneh started his round of questioning but was cut off by the arrival of two 20-something guys who made up TMZ's camera crew. They'd been tailing Levi and his crew ever since they arrived in New York and seemed almost like old friends. Sanneh backed off, to avoid getting captured by their camera. TMZ doesn't care about restrictions and they began asking about custody and Palin. Tank demurred. "Come on, you know better than that."

While Tank was distracted by dealing with the TMZ mess, Jacob Bernstein from The Daily Beast snuck up and peppered Levi with questions and scribbled furiously in his notebook. A male-female duo from Hollywood Life sidled up and began asking their own questions and with a Flip camera. After the questions, the Hollywood Life crew each took their picture with Levi. With Levi alone again, Sanneh came back for a second attempt at an interview. This time, though, he talked more to Tank that Levi. It's easy to go that direction, since Tank is a gregarious quote machine while Levi answers everything with about three words.

Levi was scheduled to accept his award as soon as the ceremony restarted after the intermission. The PR girl shadowing him told him and Nardicio to go hang out at Nick Denton's table so they'd be right next to the stage. but there isn't any room at the Gawker Media overlord's table. Levi headed instead for socialite Tinsley Mortimer's table where photographers eagerly snapped the unlikely pairing. Joshua David Stein returned for his promised interview, but Levi said he needs clear it with Tank. Stein rebutted that Tank had already cleared it, but Levi — who either didn't remember, didn't care, or simply wanted to protect himself — turned him down again, this time a little more firmly. Marvin stepped in and said they'd talk to Tank and do the interview later.

Levi asked who he needs to thank in his speech which he obviously hasn't thought about until then. Nardicio told him to thank Fleshbot and The Box. Levi added that he should also say something about the upcoming issue of Playgirl and to tell people to buy it. He is all business.

When his award was announced he and Nardicio went on stage where Levi successfully avoided being photographed with a big silver dildo. His speech was exactly what he planned: He thanked Fleshbot and The Box and then told everyone to buy his issue of Playgirl.

After leaving the stage, he meets up with Tank and Marvin and they head out the door. He has to get up early to work out before his big shoot. Our colleague Irin over at Jezebel got her questions answered about the type of ladies Levi likes and JDS eventually got his interview, making poor Richard Johnson the only person denied the chance to exchange banalities with the man of the hour. Levi, like he said, was all about business, and last night his business was spectacle.

Top three photos by Hee Jin Kang, bottom by GuestofaGuest

Post managing editor Jesse Angelo, who hosted the East Village shindig with publicist Steven Rubenstein, sang Paula's praises and apologized for Post editor Col Allan's absence. Page Six editor Richard Johnson gave Froelich his own toast. And then Paula read aloud her Post mock up about how she's really leaving her gig to go find a man. It was a very enjoyable time.

Froelich has given a fairly reasonable explanation for her departure: after nearly a decade of grinding items for a daily gossip column, she's ready to do something else. And with her first novel Mercury in Retrograde just published, she leaves the Post with a deal in her pocket to write a youth series called Grits that MTV has already optioned for television.

If there's any bad blood between her and her soon-to-be-former-boss Richard Johnson neither of them are letting it show. On the day Froelich announced her departure, she convened an after-work drinking session in the West Village with Johnson sitting by her side literally making kissy faces. (Pictured above, from left to right: Corynne Steindler, Johnson, Froelich).

It's no surprise that two veteran hands would know how to keep things out of the gossip mill. She emails: "Richard is truly family to me." So, if you know what we're supposed to be digging for, do tell.

New York Post gossip Richard Johnson [attended]. [Johnson] seemed to mind his Ps and Qs since his much-younger wife, Palm Beach product Sessa Von Richthofen, kept count of the shots of Belvedere he downed. She annoyingly stuck seven of her fingers in his face after he served himself again. I figured it was time to leave.

But the party was just getting started! Richard Johnson had that DUI a few years ago, so maybe that's his wife's conversation-stopper in these situations? In any case, good to know Richard Johnson's not sippin that Grey Goose—the crunkness could easily spiral out of control.
[Page2Live.com. Notice the little bit of bottle in the bottom corner of the pic.]

CHAUNCE HAYDEN: What separates the New York Post's Page Six from the New York Daily News' Rush and Molloy?
SHALLON LESTER: We just write better. We're really clever. I think it comes down to really good writing...
I really wanted to work for a newspaper and I love the Daily News and the Rush and Molloy column. It's not like [New York Post's] Page Six where we're out to smear people and ruin people's lives. They have a definite tone that is different from ours. Page Six has a much more biting, undercutting tone. I hope our column doesn't come across that way.

No, never!

CH: Ever get offered a bribe to give someone good press?
SL: Sure. But my neckless [SIC] does not say revenge for nothing. If people want to f-k with me they're in for a long hard road. I don't respond well to threats or bribery. A lot of journalists do it and you can totally tell when it's happened just by reading the article. Personally, I never take anything in exchange for a story. I hate being indebted to someone, plus we have a very strict policy about that. I've seen a lot of people take, take, take. They're in this job just because they like to get free shit. But they can't write their way out of a paper bag. I see it a lot.

Also she talks about how she was once a virgin and now all her ex-boyfriends are rock stars and athletes and how Perez Hilton is a "gangster" and how she has a reality show coming out on VH1 so that should be interesting one way or another.

Today, Steppin' Out has a circulation of around 85,000 and is distributed throughout New Jersey and New York City by a team of 30 drivers. Hayden is the editor, but, more important, also serves as the magazine's de facto publicist: Since no one actually reads it, it's up to him to feed the best material to the various gossip outlets around town, most of which are desperate to fill column space each day.

This is how "gossip" works! Armies of professional tipsters (literally professional, in many cases—some Ron Burkle-owned magazines are known to have piles of cash on hand for these tipsters) who sometimes feed you great stuff and sometimes utter bullshit.

So Chaunce seeks status and publicity for himself, netting himself closer access to the famous and semi-famous who he then sells out to Page Six until one of them then turns on him and Page Six is forced to burn him, the end.

"It's actually not that difficult to get people to appear in the magazine," he says. "I just promise them the cover. Of course, no one has ever seen the damn thing, but publicists have usually heard of it, which is good enough. Everyone's a fame whore in this town."

True! When we first began receiving emails from "Chaunce Hayden" on behalf of Steppin' Out they confused and upset us, but now, sadly, we understand the whole game. And we've still never seen a physical copy of this magazine.

Taschen goes on to proclaim that "a big penis is undeniably compelling. Big shoulders, big lapels, and big hair may come and go, but the big penis never goes out of fashion. With those possessing more than 8 inches (20 cm) making up less than 2% of the world's population, this rare accessory will always fascinate." And Brett was indeed fascinated. Gossip maven Richard Johnson (a very penis-y name, by the way) says "the Hollywood director showed up at LA venue Alpha and bought five copies, which he got signed by the cover model, porn star Chad Hunt."

But that's not all. Apparently, "the party was full of 'underwear-clad male waiters and porn stars;' and...'Brett was eating it up!'" So what does all this mean? Is Ratner suffering from penis envy? Or is he trying to option the book for some ill-conceived, giant-penis-based buddy comedy starring Willem Dafoe, Tommy Lee and the ghost of Milton Berle? Only time will tell.

[Photo Credit: Getty Images]

• Buying Big [NY Post]

Chaunce's full statement:

Statement from Chaunce Hayden: Neither myself or any other employee of Steppin' Out magazine, published anything at anytime to suggest that [Opie's fiancee] Ms. Smigo was involved in a sex tape. In fact, I went as far as to print that Ms. Smigo was not involved in a sex tape despite what Page Six of the New York Post suggested. When contacted by Bill Hoffmann of the New York Post, prior to their story about a sex tape involving Ms. Smigo and Bam Margera, I was asked if I thought the story was indeed true. I told Mr. Hoffman that I never saw a tape and that this is a rumor that has been on the internet for two years and that a former employee of the Opie and Anthony Show is claiming the story to be true. I told Mr. Hoffman that I was waiting for an answer from either Mr. Hughes or Mr. Margera to confirm or deny the story and I would wait until I saw a tape before filing my story. The next day Page Six published the item, despite my denial of a sex tape. In fact, I personally advised Mr. Hoffmann not to print anything until he saw the tape. Mr. Hoffman asked for 48 hours to "work" the story after I suggested he hold off until he saw the tape as well.

Yea Chaunce, you should probably get a lawyer, though. And here's a transcript sent by Hayden, in which he helpfully inserted the name of the real culprit in all this:

Transcript: Opie commenting on his XM radio show about the alleged sex tape between Bam Margera and his fiancée Lynsi Smigo. Opie confirms how long the story has been public and where the story originated: This is a false rumor. It's a lie that was started a year and a half ago by someone and we all know his name (Ben). Fucking Chaunce was the one who fed this story to Page Six and made them believe that this story could be possibly true. This guy [Ben] is a complete asshole. I'm now up to 20 names of people I know that (Ben) told this rumor to behind my back. He's been trying to get this rumor out there and trying to get as many to believe this. He got message boards to believe it. He's got people saying, "Let's try to find the fucking tape!" This whole thing started one and a half years ago! Everyone knows who started this. I'm not allowed to say his name on the radio right now. He would text me non-stop around the clock. I wouldn't budge. I finally wrote back, "Wow you are damaged. You need help." Then he wrote back, "Lynsi...Sex tape. Do I have your attention now?" I thought who is ever going to believe it. Now this motherfucker [Chaunce] gets Page Six to believe this and now I'm in hell.

Page Six does the nasty:

The story spreads:

It's not true!:

Also, lies are hurtful:

[via The Smoking Gun]

May 2003. This, according to Jack Shafer, is when Keith Olbermann instigated the NBC/Fox War. In a throwaway wisecrack at the close of his show, Olbermann compared Fox Blowhard Mascot Bill O'Reilly to Joe McCarthy. By 2006, the two hosts were fighting with each other almost nightly.

January 2006 Bill devotes his nightly comment to attacking NBC itself—and not Olbermann by name. "But 'Talking Points' is troubled by the behavior of NBC, which cheap shots FOX News on a regular basis and has been doing so for some time." He then takes it to the next level by going over Keith's head and pinning the blame on NBC President Robert Wright! (Keith responded by declaring O'Reilly his Worst Person in the World.)

October 2006 Fox's NBC war was expanding beyond Olbermann and O'Reilly. Fox gossip Roger Friedman turned a benefit report into an odd swipe at NBC's ratings, blaming Wright for the failure of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip.

January 2007 The O'Reilly Factor presented a fair and balanced report on The Decline of NBC News. "As we reported NBC News has taken a sharp turn to the left under executive Jeff Zucker and Robert Wright with elements at NBC News now actually using propaganda from far left web sites as primary source material. Unbelievable." He went on to gleefully report on the supposed misdoings of Maria Bartiromo, bringing in a financial analyst willing to publicly trash CNBC.

April 2007 As the odious Michelle Malkin hosted his program, O'Reilly appeared via satellite to blame the Don Imus affair on Jeff Zucker. Meanwhile, Fox business correspondent Terry Keenan gleefully reported that NBC's parent company GE wanted to unload the network.

January 2008 The war heats up! O'Reilly does one of his patented ambushes of General Electric head Jeffrey Immelt! Supposedly because of some deal with Iran, but mainly because GE owns NBC and NBC employs Keith Olbermann and Keith Olbermann makes fun of Bill O'Reilly.

And so the feud widened. From Bill versus Keith to Fox versus NBC to News Corp versus General Electric. It went as high as Immelt and Rupert Murdoch! Fox News head Roger Ailes called NBC head Jeff Zucker personally to complain about Olbermann and threaten to take the battle to the New York Post. Murdoch called Zucker to ask that the network not play a video of a blogger harassing O'Reilly.

Page Six, the Post's gossip arm, constantly runs embarrassing stories about Olbermann. Which often leads to Olbermann naming some News Corp or Post-related figure his Worst Person in the World. And then the cycle begins anew! Over and over again!

Post columnist Andrea Peyser overhears Keith bitching about Connie Chung, Keith calls Peyser the worst person in the world, a few months later, Page Six reports that Olbermann is bad in bed! Then column editor Richard Johnson gets the first of his Worst Person in the World awards. (The second would come when he threatened to rape Vanessa Grigoriadis.) It's fun!

But the involvement of Murdoch? The harassment of Immelt? As GE decides whether it wants to keep its toes in the broadcasting business, this ego-driven bullshit might help convince them it's not worth it. Bill might win this one, sort of!

As in most things Murdochian, Rupert doesn't dirty his hands. While it's fun to pretend to see his fingerprints on each Olbermann smear in Page Six, the truth is Johnson and Post head Col Allen do indeed call the shots. They just know which shots they're supposed to call. Just like Roger Ailes at Fox, all the way down to Bill.

Would that GE and NBC/Universal had a message machine so in tune? They've got the cable blowhards warring with the broadcast newsmen and it all ends up publicized by one News Corp outlet or another.

The real winners, as always: us!

We came close once. Richard was on vacation and Wilson typed up what we thought was surely a family-friendly way of explaining the Santorum gag to unplugged newspaper readers. At about 7:00 p.m., we were all set to leave, when Post executive editor Steve Cuozzo—the Old Timiest of the Old Timey newsmen—came tearing out of his office, yowling, "Frothy discharge? Frothy discharge!?" Long story short: item killed.

What else do I miss about the Post? This lady right here. ::Sigh::

.

Turns out the piece was passed on by the Press to Page Six's Richard Johnson, who "was eager to do an item," Press editor David Blum told us. Aww, offering publicity to a struggling alt-weekly, how nice! As if. The story was bumped up to a news feature by the Post and then turned into a scoop on page three. "We're sorry they couldn't wait one more day and make it a Wall Street Journal page one exclusive," Blum told us.

As we were heading in to the Met, Mel Brooks was fleeing. He looks Jewier in person. Regis Philbin was heading to the Regency. His wife held a Museum Towers umbrella against the chill rain and said to her friend while she peered at a black Lincoln Town Car, "If the driver had any brains at all, he'd give us a sign."

Lauren Bush, the current President's niece, climbed the steps. She kissed the cheek of the gray-haired David Rubenstein, founder of the Carlisle Group and a "family friend." A middle-aged Hispanic woman pleaded with the guards to let her inside. Her father and her daughter had gone missing earlier that day: "Sorry ma'am, there's no one in here."

The stairway leading up to the second floor Medieval Art galleries was lined with tea candles that spelled out FOX. In the Sackler wing, the Riefenstahlian touches continued. Giant topiary letters spelled Fox Business. The temple of Dendur was lit blue and yellow. Social free-thinkers Celerie Kemble and her husband Ravenel Boykin Curry IV were there. "We're here for the Counting Crows," said Celerie. "I was supposed to have my birthday party tonight at the Wollman Rink but it got rained out. Eh, global warming!" "

I told her not to be so loud. She wouldn't make it to see the Counting Crows if Roger Ailes heard her.

The president of the Tiffany Foundation, Fernanda M. Kellogg, sat with her husband (and senior vice president at Stribling), Kirk Henckels. "I'm a lifelong left, born and raised," said Henckels, quietly enough. He had a bowtie. She had a humongous diamond necklace. Why are you here? I asked her. "Fox Business is a gem."

Lauren Bush was talking with Vanessa Trump. Lauren was wearing a keffiyah around her slender and sylph-like neck. Was it in solidarity with the Palestinian people or if it was in solidarity with Steve McQueen? She was there for the Counting Crows and Fox Business. Was she single? New York mag's Chris Rovzar, who is a huge huge huge Counting Crows fan, reminded me that she wasn't. She's dating David Lauren, the Ralph Lauren child, which means she'd be Lauren Lauren if they get married unless David chose to heed his father's Ashkenazi heritage and changed his name back to David Lifschitz.

Why had Rupert Murdoch picked Adam Duritz for the night's entertainment? Does he like the Counting Crows? The director of PR for Fox Business Network, Jocelyn Austin, seemed panicked that I might ask. She grabbed my arm and led me to the bar. "Let's get a drink," she said tautly.

"Uh, there's no bartender at the bar," I said. "Ha," she said, "I'll make you a drink. Let's not bother Rupert."

But we were standing next to Rupert. There was a little circle of people around him. Socialite Fabiola Beracasa was nearest.

Fabiola was wearing a silver dress. "I don't know whether to punch you or to kiss you," she said. Her boyfriend stood next to her. I thought if she kissed me, I'd get punched by him but if she punched me, he might kiss me instead, right? Adam Duritz began to sing the first unbearably crap lines of Long December. Was that Lauren Bush singing along softly? I tapped Rupert's shoulder.

He's shorter than I'd expect. He's also very powerful. I thought the best approach was informal. I gave him a pound. (Kidding.) Instead he enveloped my hand in his own soft hands and shook up and down. He feels like a cashmere doll. He had never heard of the Counting Crows. But he thought they were okay.

Jack and Suzy Welch were talking to Roger Ailes and cosmetics queen and Republican super-cougar Georgette Mosbacher. There was Page Six's Richard Johnson. He was scowling for a photograph. According to Nikola, his wife said, "Richard, you look like an angry shithead." Richard smiled. He said he didn't want to talk about what he had written about Vanessa Grigoriadis; the whole how he'd rape her but she was ugly thing.

"I have nothing to gain by this conversation," he said. "Let's let it lie."

[Update: Now we're hearing that it might have been Braden Keil's wife Jennifer Gould Keil not Richard's wife who called him a shithead, which might be even better.]

Judging from his almost jockey-like weight, working out a lot. He's also "got a column on Portfolio.com and I've been writing a lot for New York magazine. Oh, and I'm trying to build a company." Oh???

Speaking of company, he and Page Six honcho Richard Johnson were unusually chummy. Funny, given that we've heard that Johnson had fired off some very scathing emails to Grove in response to his New York mag takedown of Page Six boss Col Allan just back in September.

Grove said: "Look, there are few people who really understand or do what Richard and I do. There's a camaraderie there. We're friends."

Borrowing Up [Page Six]

There are not one but two items on Radar today about Johnson, one about the Grig slur and another pointing to Johnson's seeming favor-trading with Joe Francis, who he may have witnessed getting up to his rapey old tricks at Johnson's bachelor party.

Days before Johnson's April 8, 2006, nuptials to Sessa von Richthofen, Johnson and crew were crashed out in the living room of Francis's $25 million, 13-bedroom estate in Punta Mita, Mexico, nursing hangovers when the porn auteur came home and disappeared into a bedroom with a young woman. Eyewitnesses say later that morning the young woman burst out of Francis's boudoir, groggy, crying, and yelling, "That motherfucker raped me!" She staggered off saying her boyfriend in Oklahoma was a lawyer who would "sue the fuck out of" Francis.

Johnson and fellow revelers were left dumbstruck. But Francis—who has been accused of procuring underage prostitutes, promoting sexual performances from children, drug trafficking, racketeering, and rape—was quick to calm their nerves. "Guys, relax," he told Johnson and others, according to witnesses. "We're in Mexico."

Previously: Dispatch From The Gossip Wars