<![CDATA[Gawker: robert rave]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: robert rave]]> http://gawker.com/tag/robertrave http://gawker.com/tag/robertrave <![CDATA[Zac Effron Can't Wait to Buy Porn for Lizzie Grubman]]> Rumor, and we definitely think it's rumor, is that Zac Efron wants to play the lead in a movie version of Spin, Robert Rave's roman à clef about walking Canal Street handbag knockoff Lizzie Grubman. Wanna see what he'll do?

Let's dip back into the galley that just keeps on giving: here the Lizzie character, Jennie, asks the Zac character to go buy teenage Asian porn at a Times Square sleaze mart in the middle of the night. Young 20-somethings buying porn after midnight?! It's shocking. They'll turn into Gremlins! And seeing this movie will turn teenage girls into coke-riddled sex fiends. OMG, they'll want to go into PR!

Click the images if you want larger versions.

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<![CDATA[The Lizzie Grubman Tale Continued: Car Accidents!]]> Yesterday we showed you the opening parts of Spin, a new roman à clef about nightmare PR lobster lady Lizzie Grubman. You seemed to "like" it, so we thought we'd continue the book club. By skipping to the very end!

When we last checked in with former Grubman assistant Robert Rave's tale, "Jennie" was dressed to the nines and doing lines at 6 in the morning. We can all imagine what happens between there and the end: She acts bitchy, the boy assistant balks, celebrities are nastily name dropped, kiddo gets some balls and decides to quit. And it is our imagination, because we still haven't read the thing. We're thinking Andy Sachs shit, basically.

So, what do we get, then, at the end? A recreation of Grubman's signature moment: crazed attempted vehicular poor-people-icide! And she targets the narrator and his friends, specifically. They're outside a nightclub or something...




And that's how it ends OMG, who dies??? Who lives?? We'll never know!!

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<![CDATA[The Devil Reps Prada: A Lizzie Grubman Tell-All]]> Lizzie Grubman, lobster-faced PR woman and runner-over-of regular people, once had an assistant named Robert Rave. That since-disillusioned young man has now published a roman à clef about a boy working for a fearsome PR dragon. We've got a manuscript!

Spin is big and thick and getting a roll out from St. Martin's next month, but really the first few pages of the prologue tell it all. A blowed-out, little-black-dress-clad, ogre-handed orange menace named Jennie blowing lines at 6am while complaining about black people. Seriously! Take a look for yourself! The fictional Robert wakes up one morning to the following scene:

Click on each image to make larger






Um, brutal! Be afraid Mr. Rave, be very, very afraid. We can't wait to get to the part about some sort of horrible "accident" outside a Hamptons nightclub.

See you at the book party, Rob. If you make it that long.

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