As you may recall, Laliberte claimed that he was "assaulted" for no good reason at The Georgica in the Hamptons by a rampaging barbarian who called him mean names like "Jew" and "fag," but the staff of the restaurant refused to throw the guy out. This outraged Laliberte.

Don't people realize that gays are being hung in Iran or bombed in Israel. People should stamp out hatred whenever they see it, and I was disappointed and ashamed that this certainly wasn't the case with the staff at the night club.

All of this raised a big question: just what did Laliberte do to spark this guy's ire? Laliberte refused to elaborate on the specifics of what led up to the incident and the restaurant hasn't returned our inquiry call (In fairness to them they're only open on the weekends.), but Guest of a Guest tracked down a couple of witnesses and learned that Laliberte's lucky he only got called names by the guy.

he walked up to a table where he was not sitting and poured vodka in his glass. the guy who was at the table told kristian to leave the table. kristian got hysterical and started to say "do you know who i am?" the guy said, i don't care who you are this is our table get out of here. as kristian walked away the guy booted kristian in the ass. more of a playful thing then anything harmful.

kristian then went outside and was hysterically crying and threatening to call the police...The patron went outside and tried to apologize but at this point Kristian was having none of it. He started to berate the guy, whom again he did not know, saying "you think because you're some spoiled rich kid you can get away with anything." The paying patron attempted to apologize a number of times before he got angry and started to yell at Kristian.

Another witness backed this story up, though that person thought it was expensive champagne that was pilfered by Laliberte, not vodka. Minor details. The bottom line is that Laliberte brazenly swiped pricey booze from a stranger and managed to toss out the "do you know who I am" card in the process. He's lucky he didn't get his face bashed in.

Regardless, one thing about this entire incident is abundantly clear: Kristian Laliberte gives socialgays a bad name.

• Leighton Meester caused a scene in a Hamptons restaurant when she encouraged her friends to scream the Happy Birthday song loud enough to drown out another table of girls singing the same tune. The other diners were probably not amused. [Page Six]
  
  
• The attempted reconciliation of Sean Penn and Robin Wright Penn has failed. As you may recall, Penn announced a few months back that he was putting acting on hold to focus on repairing his family, but Robin reportedly wasn't interested. [Page Six]
  
  
• Hotel peephole video victim Erin Andrews of ESPN appears in a "dirty" photo spread in the new issue of GQ. [Daily News]
  
  
• In addition to screwing over all of his clients, Bernie Madoff was allegedly putting the wood to some of the secretaries in his office at Madoff Securities. [Page Six]
  
  
• Poor Lindsay Lohan just can't catch a break. Over the weekend she attended some fancy event in the Hamptons filled with fancy people and then her creepy dad showed up and stalked her all over the place. [Page Six]
  
  
• Madonna celebrated her 51st birthday at an Italian resort with her children and her fetus boyfriend Jesus Luz. [Daily Mail]
  
  
• Shania Twain is the latest lady to take a turn at being a judge on American Idol in place of Paula Abdul. [EOnline]
  
  
• Well here's a damn shocker! NeNe Leakes of Real Housewives fame says that she was once a stripper back in the days of her reckless youth and she's quite proud of it, mind you! [Gatecrasher]
  
  
• Well here's a another damn shocker! Sandra Bernhard isn't really much of a fan of Sarah Palin. [Page Six]
  
  
• Lady GaGa posed nude for the new issue of Out Magazine, but there's no frontal shot so we still can't verify whether or not she has a peen. [Sun]

Laliberte first reported the incident on his Twitter over the weekend:





Laiberte, last seen fully engaged in the most retarded social feud in the history of retarded social feuds, spoke to Guest of a Guest about the incident, but refused to elaborate on the details of what exactly happened, so we are only left to assume that Laliberte said something insulting about the guy's socks or something. However, he didn't hold back on painting himself as the gay Rosa Parks for having the courage to speak out against gay slur words.

A lot of my straight friends don't get why its such a big deal. However if the LGTB community wants to achieve more tolerance and equality, they need to realize that this term is nothing short of saying that homosexuals are second class citizens, that something is wrong with us.

When straights and gays realize the import of the world and all that it implies, its to recall a time when the n word was perfectly acceptable, a time when a certain group was inferior to the general population. We all know where that can lead.

Don't people realize that gays are being hung in Iran or bombed in Israel. People should stamp out hatred whenever they see it, and I was disappointed and ashamed that this certainly wasn't the case with the staff at the night club.

Sadly, Laliberte's words aren't exactly hollow, but it's hard to take them, or anything else that comes from Kristian Laliberte, seriously when they come from Kristian Laliberte.

• Jude Law will soon become a father for the fourth time. His spokesperson issued a statement last night confirming that he knocked up some unnamed girl he had a "relationship" with last year. Jude, just go have the ole snip-snip done if you're unwilling to wrap up. Geez, it's reversible. [EW]
  
  
• Friends of Mischa Barton are concerned that she's being released back into the wild way too soon. [Daily News]
  
  
• Mel Gibson was out partying with one of his many Russian girlfriends when a Life & Style reporter posing as a fan tried to get a picture of him, which caused Mel to snap and unleash his biblical passion upon the lowly tabloid journalist and her friend, whose shirt he ripped up. [Hollyscoop]
  
  
• Oh this is just heartbreaking—Michael Jackson's children formed a circle by holding hands and prayed frantically while paramedics attempted to revive their dad in their home. [Mirror]
  
  
• Dan Aykroyd bombarded the kitchen of some swanky East Hampton restaurant and starting yelling at the chefs that all of their dishes were "rubbish." He then jumped behind the bar and began slinging drinks to everyone. [Page Six]
  
  
• Does anyone care about Jennifer Lopez anymore? Regardless, she and her husband Marc and their kids celebrated her 40th birthday in Rome, just in case anyone does care about Jennifer Lopez. [Daily Mail]
  
  
• According to the Mirror, George Clooney's new squeeze is a "lapdance model," meaning that she's a Italian model who loves to get drunk and give nude lap dances to men. George Clooney is a man to be celebrated. Here he is on a motorbike with his "lapdance model." [Mirror]
  
  
• Michael Showalter says that appearing on Letterman's show is like walking into your own television set, among other things. [Starpulse]
  
  
• Anna Wintour has gone power mad and is planning to invade Bulgaria because she has always wanted to rule a country in the Black Sea region. Or something. [Page Six]
  
  
• Amy Winehouse's father says that he faked a heart attack to try to shock his daughter into kicking her addictions to heroin and crack and God knows what else. His efforts failed. [Daily Mail]

There are oh so many of these Hamptons society magazines, with party pictures galore. Which one keeps it the realest, society-wise? The New York Observer finds a shocking number of people who will discuss that question as if it were not a self-evident farce. Decry the poseurs, fawning socialite chronicler David Patrick Columbia!

"With the great bubble of prosperity, you had all these aspirants to that world," Mr.[David Patrick] Columbia continued. "But since they are not part of it, they've actually created their own world-a satellite world which they call society, which it absolutely is not. They're trying to create a hierarchy based on publicity, which is something that follows hierarchy-it doesn't precede it."

Put your feud with rival vapid magazine Hamptonite into perspective, Social Life editor Devorah Rose, pictured!

"It was like Olivia Palermo versus Tinsley," Ms. Rose chimed in. "They were trying to Olivia Palermo us!"

Call out the fakers, celebrity photog Joan Jedell!

"Social Life doesn't interest me," Ms. Jedell said, "because it's like, ‘Who are these people?'"

Break it all down, Andrew Cuomo's sister-in-law!

"When Pamela [Gross, Avenue's editor] asked me to be on the cover, I asked her, ‘Don't you see this as competition?'" Ms. Cuomo recalled. "And she said, ‘No, we only cover society. You cover affluence.'"

Now everyone go throw up on purpose!
[NYO]

There's really not much more to say here as this video speaks pretty much for itself. So here are the aforementioned revolting Hamptons people, most notably Beth Ostrosky Stern, Star Jones and Jason Binn, discussing their Hamptons polo fashion choices. And paisley's are in, in case you didn't know.

via Plum TV

Employees of the New York Times Style section enjoy spending time in The Hamptons, and they can't help but spot social trends, with their trained journalistic peepers. These trends can be profitably converted into Style section stories that will pay for more weekends in The Hamptons. They could spot these very same trends in many inferior areas, but that would necessitate traveling to inferior areas. The trends would then become unimportant.

In The Hamptons, people judge one another based on t-shirt design. The multitudinous t-shirt designs of The Hamptons are one of the world's most interesting topics.

I am talking about T-shirts, of course, like the one from Ditch Witch in Montauk, sold in one place only: a car adjacent to the Ditch Witch food truck...There are those who swear by T-shirts from a strangely honky-tonk roadside lobster shack in Amagansett...There are some who prefer the pastel T-shirts that, until last year, were sold from only one place, beneath the counter at the Candy Kitchen luncheonette in Bridgehampton...Others demonstrate their south-of-the-highway credentials by sporting a homely T-shirt from Harry Ludlow's Fairview Farm on Mecox Road...Some lucky folks have managed to score shirts from Big Olaf's Ice Cream in Sag Harbor...There are T-shirts so echt-Hamptons that they have entered local lore, like the one commemorating Virgil the Frog Boy...A T-shirt from the Meadow Club in Southampton remains, in its way, the matchless symbol of privileged belonging.

Fascinating. Fuck The Hamptons, and their t-shirts.
[NYT]

Guest of a Guest has the full dispatch claiming that LiLo's pops and Minus-Kate-and-Eight are on a bottom-feeder double date with two blonde bimbos.

The two were double dating with their arm candy by strolling Jobs Lane, stopping in at T.C. Menswear, and lunching at The Driving Seat. So here's a heads up: If you are currently in Southampton, be on the look-out. The number of fame-whores in the area have definitely gone in to overdrive.

This is the worst blow to the Hamptons glamour since Lizzie Grubman still had a driver's license.

It makes sense, though. The two have plenty to talk about: how to stay away from and attract the paparazzi, selling your soul for a reality show, ex-wives with horrible hair, wanton attention seeking, and, of course, living off their children. Ugh.

This one could really be presented context-free, but we'll do you the favor to try and interpret whatever's going on in Crazy Aunt Cindy's forever young but possibly aging head. She tries dissecting the tribal rites of the Hamptons.

The lede:

Various civilizations practice inherent traditions that hark to the beginning of time. They even predate Andy Rooney.

Touche! Take it for what you will, but I take her calling Andy Rooney old as projecting.
Watch:

In olden days [Ed. Heh. She remembers!] native Americans raised their hands and said, "How." In Tibet one greets another by the exchange of bits of cloth. Muslim Indonesia is fingers to the lips in prayer fashion. In Japan they bow. In Washington they put their hand out and then into your pocket. In Hawaii they offer a lei. In Turkey it's a coffee. India's welcome is "Namaste." Thailand's is "Sawadee." Brooklyn's is "Yo, man." When a Yorkie comes up to a Maltese he sniffs its butt.

Wait what? Besides the fact that the cliche'd Brooklynite stereotype of a rough-around-the-edges native New Yorker has been (sadly) extinct and sterile for years, now, how Cindy went from Thailand to Brooklyn to Dogs Sniffing Asses is beyond me. But still, excusable eccentricity. Then, this:

For humanoids there exists in our part of the world some form of unspoken East Coast tribal rite not taught in guidebooks.

She obviously talking about the Hamptons, yes, but humanoids? Someone's seen Alien Nation one too many times. It just goes on and on about the Hamptons and how crazy they are for old ladies. Finally, she just gives in and more or less comes to terms with the fact that she is a crazy old lady, and thus, coherently understands their languages and means by which they communicate, especially about things like beating traffic:

In July in the Hamptons, the weekend obsessing begins midweek. In the city. Like on a Tuesday. Picture two yentas under dryers. One will likely say: "We have a very important event in Sag Harbor Friday." Her friend might then suggest: "So drive out Thursday." She will likely be told: "Can't. We have a very important event in Manhattan Thursday." Understand, for this species all events are very important. Hamptonite types never do unimportant events. Anyone with even a time-share east of Shinnecock for just the first two weeks of August recognizes that there exists no such thing as an unimportant event.

Yenta One will then inquire: "So what time you think we should leave to beat the traffic?"

Yenta Two: "Ohhhh, y'know, it's Friday in the summer in the city." (This gives you an insight into this person's omniscient wisdom.) "You should talk to my Max. He knows back roads. Takes a little longer and he sometimes gets a bit lost like when Lily Pond Lane crosses Three Pond Stream and cuts across Fertilizer Farm to Daffodil Pollen Path, he sometimes misses the turnoff. But there's no traffic there."

And that's a wrap. Cindy, there's an awesome gig waiting for you whenever you want to take it; everyone else, especially gossip columnists and bloggers, guess what: you're gonna have to diversify. Does Ben Leventhal want to be reporting on the city's best Early Bird Specials in his old age? Will Jessica Pressler and Chris Rovzar be recapping the Golden Gossip Girls? Will AJ Daulerio be taking notes from the press box at Polo games in the Hamptons? Let's pray, no. Still, it's good to know that the Post doesn't mind keeping a little stale air in their pocket for (literal) old time's sake. That's nice of them. In a passively sadomasochistic way.

Maybe the Greasers, trying to mess with the Socs! Or maybe the work of some bored rich kids who have to spend the summers in the Hamptons with parents instead of smoking weed in the city with friends. Sadly, though, none of those things:

Police are also uncertain of the incendiary substance used to vandalize the field. The accompanying letter, although unavailable for release, is takes issue with the school board's business decisions according to Anderson who said "the author was expressing their concerns and dissenting opinions as to how the school board conducts business."

So! The burning of money was presumably an unironic statement, which is disappointing, though I bet that five-page letter's pretty interesting.

Oh well. At least whoever did it was rich enough to buy some substance that the cops in the Hamptons couldn't figure out. But still: nice work. Though if you'd burned a dollar sign into the East Hampton High polo field, that would've been something. Seriously.

Vandals Scorch A Giant Dollar Sign In East Hampton Football Field [Hamptons.com]

We saw the following come up on our Twitter feed and almost choked on our coffee.

Is she okay? Brawl at The Talkhouse? Throwdown at The Surf Lodge? Crossbow attack on Matt Levine at Georgica? We contacted Hruska for comment, because we care about our bloggy bretheren. The answer? A Mr. Toad's Wild Ride-esque accident that could've potentially injured Hruska and her crack team of (unpaid, but fairly compensated) Guest of a Guest reporters:

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

Hruska, stop scaring us like that. We need our crack-like Hamptons coverage and our new media compensation beefs alive and well. Glad all involved are okay. Dramatic reenactment below:

The culprit is this case was a usual suspect, Matt Levine, owner of The Eldridge, the staggering den of douchebaggery on the Lower East Side frequented by laser-card carrying "quality people," where a specialty mixed drink will run you $32, if, that is, you're touched by the hand of God and allowed in to mingle with a group of people who should probably all be sterilized for the sake of humanity.

PlumTV's Nick Leighton was on the scene at Levine's Hamptons outpost, Georgica, in the pouring rain, with a camera when Levine rolled up the awning on dozens of people eager to drop hundreds of dollars on sub-par food and crap service.

And if you've never been to the Hamptons and need more convincing of how truly awful it really is, watch this other PlumTV clip from this weekend below featuring The Blue Parrot, a place that in any other American town would be just another carbon-copy Mexican joint trying too hard to be "quirky" by serving margaritas out of mason jars, but since it's owned by Ron Perelman, Renee Zellweger and Jon Bon Jovi, it's a place where "everyone is scrambling for a table," including Martha Stewart, clearly wasted after drinking a single "Dirty Bird" margarita.

Pic via

As the story's been told by three papers: Rudy's walking down the street when 69 year-old Amagansett local John McCluskey (pictured, right) comes up to him and starts screaming at him. McCluskey allegedly threatened to "punch (Giuliani's) lights out" and Giuliani responded with something along the lines of "Bring it on!" The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

And that's about as far as it went, as neither party really "brought it." Giuliani's moll, Judi, dialed their driver and hysterically ordered an extraction operation of him, and shortly thereafter, called the 5-0 (not the sequence of events: driver, then cops). McCluskey went into the coffee shop, emptied out all the change in his pockets, and was soon arrested by the fuzz, who hit the scene minutes later. The entire thing lasted a few minutes, and really, it was just two old guys yelling at each other. McCluskey's mostly been painted as "crazed" and "a lunatic" by New York papers, though he was noted as "slim and well-dressed" by a Post quote, and looks like a dead-ringer for John Larroquette, to us. McCluskey took the initiative to get ahead of the press cycle, and emailed us this morning. The semi-press-releasey, [sic]-heavy email from him:

Dear Editor,

I am the alleged crazed John W. McCluskey who "tried to attack" sweet Rudy Gulianno "out for a stroll" in Bridgehampton. The fact is that while crossing the street I simply informed Rudy of my contempt for his sleazy bullying tactics for most of his prosecutorial life. I pointed out he would gladly prosecute and persecute the innocent as well as the guilty if it gained him publicity.

He became irate and angry and threatened to beat me up for daring to express my opinion. He flew into a rage in the middle of the street using the foulest of language and threatened to kick my ass.His wife tried to calm him down but he continued his ranting's. Of course he proved my point by having me arrested for speaking irreverently to his royal nothingness. He's a true egomaniac and a bully who can hand it out but can't take.

I'm a publisher and documentary film maker of good reputation, never having been arrested before.("When the Goddess Ruled the Earth" and "Zeus Almighty") which is in the process of release. Rudy in the 80's harassed me and my company Arden Communications on phoney allegations of wrong doing regarding tax shelters as he did to thousands of others. In any case, I just had surgery on my knee and wouldn't have been foolish enough to engage Rudy in fisticuffs, but looking at the shape of him would preclude any idea of hitting the poor man, he's truly pathetic looking.

Aside for all of that he probably knows I am working on a documentary on 911 which includes his ineptitude and mishandling of certain events leading up to 911 and he thought this would be a good opportunity to discredit me. I emptied my pockets trying to come up with enough change for coffee at the Golden Pear which is where I was going when I met Rudy.

John W. McCluskey
Arden Films

McCluskey also told Newsday that he is "not a respecter of [Giuliani], and..told him essentially that he would prosecute and persecute a cheese sandwich if he got the opportunity." Now, we doubt McCluskey actually said that, but if he did: hilarity, and also, kinda true (though the Gouda RICO Trials would be a great beat to cover). Giuliani's spokesperson - which, amazingly, he still has - noted that the mayor "handled himself well and was calm considering the situation."The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.

It's not really that crazy to want to scream at Rudy Giuliani. He just did it, which, yeah: kinda makes him crazy, but kind of not! My favorite part of this McCluskey's email is that he tries to explain the change-emptying after he plugs his movie. A flack, and he pays for his coffee with change: a true New York hero, no doubt.

Rudy Giuliani confronts angry heckler at restaurant in the Hamptons [NYDN]
Rudy Giuliani accosted in Hamptons, police say [Newsday]
Rudy Giuliani Stands Up To Crazed Attacked On Hamptons Stroll [NYP]

The rich can't even afford to go to the Hamptons this year. Who shall take their place? The wearers of Axe Body Spray! It all makes perfect sense:

While other brands have sponsored party spaces, like the Polaroid Beach House in Malibu or the Esquire Apartment or the Playboy Mansion, this is one of the first brand-sponsored nightclubs going for a full season.

For its branded mating experience, Axe selected a big club on Southampton's main party strip, North Sea Road. The club has been known as Dune for the last couple of years, but this summer it will turn into the Axe Lounge.

Where better to meet a nice guy than "The Axe Lounge"? It's the place where young men who see their own stories told in Axe Body Spray commercials and the women who love them can meet!

There will be Axe branding on the D.J. booth, menu and valet tickets; an Axe-themed drink; and Axe products in the men's and women's bathrooms...But, Mr. Heller said, the branding will be relatively subtle.

DUDES COME MEET SLUTS HERE AXE AXE AXE axe (last one for subtlety).
[NYT]

Funny. The New York Times wouldn't know; they're yet again reporting on how The Rich are being hit by the recession. And we're thus forced to again report on the Times reporting on something that's been covered incessantly! This time, Hamptons Edition! Highlights:

• Personification of The Hamptons as mystical Lost-island like entity. Also, appearances: they count for something! "..the important thing is that everything seem low-key. The Hamptons wants you to perceive it as conforming to the spirit of these hard times and not to caricature it as the flashy, traffic-choked, over-the-top playground it has increasingly become."

  
  

• Restaurants are throwing down on cheap booze to sweeten the deal. "Dinner for two at Della Femina will set you back $150 - but the restaurant is throwing in a free glass of wine."

  
  

• The most fun they might have all summer is in coming up with awesome euphemisms: "Boutiques are calling themselves "beach shacks" but still selling $200 slacks."

  
  

• Patterns of patently ridiculous spending might actually be slowing: ""I didn't order the $2,500 Italian backgammon board this year, which I sold three of the summer before last," she said."

  
  

• And then this piece of absolute strangeness, which could document the moment Times writer Allen Salkin totally lost his shit:

  The operator of what is shaping up to be one of the season's hot new clubs envisions a sound system that pumps out the ambient vibe of breaking waves and squawking gulls.

  Caw! Caw! Polly want a dollar!

  Sure, there's more, but you know the routine: people who used to not have to save are trying to save, and watching them do it is totally newsworthy, because they concessions they make are amazing.

  Meanwhile, in some other country, two reporters at the Times are reporting the high rate of foreclosures amongst minorities:

  On 145th Street in southeast Queens, just south of Linden Boulevard, attached brick homes with tidy, fenced-in gardens stretch into the distance. Children play tag under blooming oaks. But 8 of these roughly 50 homes face foreclosure; 4 are vacant; 2 have plywood boards nailed over punched-out windows. "My district feels like ground zero," said City Councilman James Sanders Jr., an African-American who represents hundreds of blocks in Queens like this one. "In military terms, we are being pillaged."

  I'm swearing, right now, to never read another one of these goddamn stories again until it contains one or more of the following items or variations of them: the snacking on of beach towels, riots at Nick and Toni's, Billy Joel-related brutality, The Surf Lodge being overrun by actual surfers, the Hampton Jitney being hijacked by various New School/NYU protesters, the Guest of a Guest-ers drop-kicking their way into Pink Elephant, Grey Gardens-esque summer shares for Upper East Side families to hide their batshit cousins, improved stronger-faster-scarier Montauk Monsters, etc. Times, 'ball's in your court. Please run with it.

  Minorities Affected Most as New York Foreclosures Rise [New York Times]

  The Hamptons In Flip Flops [New York Times]

I mean, the fact that the Hamptons homes of Ron Lauder and Calvin Klein's daughter are both close to being reclaimed by the sea, because of beach erosion, could be taken as a sign that god is having his revenge. Nothing to worry about for us poors, right? But then the New York Times had to go out and talk to some New York economists about the economic future of NYC. Why must you remind us about the future?

—"Some people have compared this recession to the Great Depression. Mr. Marlin's view? It could turn out to be worse." How much worse, Mr. Marlin?

—"I'm concerned about people being so desperate that they lose the fear of losing their own lives and they become so desperate that they're willing to endanger other people's lives," he said.

Nice. Also nobody is shopping at malls any more so forget about your backup career at Foot Locker. Desperately shoveling sand onto a billionaire's beach house foundation is now the last ray of hope, employment-wise. [Pic via]

"The days when Sag Harbor was known as a writers' colony are over," says a local estate agent. "They can't afford the rent any more." Indeed, to rent a three-bedroom cottage from Memorial Day to Labor Day (the period that constitutes the summer in America) now costs at least $75,000.

Part of the problem is that the book-publishing business is in dire straits...

According to one New Yorker staffer, "It is becoming increasingly tough to score a decent advance, even as a household name."

Luckily Toby Young was able to use a tiny fraction of his movie money to secure a spot on the front lines of the Hamptons to bring this news to the people of the UK. Meanwhile Adam Gopnik can't even get $250K for his next book of essays on raising children like the French! Where's the justice?

[Independent UK. Toby Young's most notable contribution to American culture was actually just to play party host to our own Ian Spiegelman.]

Jill and daughter.

Jill and her "gay husband" (Barf.) Correction: There is a gay husband, and he was there, but this is not him. This is her actual hubby.

The ladies who lunch at the second most expensive restaurant.

"Later on I'm going parasailing."

"I'm still heeeere."

Pool partay!

It's about balls.

She's not married and has a job, and yet she's still a housewife.

Ghosts of guests.