This Weak in Medi-uh

We never thought it possible to have two media recaps, and we probably won't, going forward, but something must be done to stop Hamptons.com's party suck-up Sean MFK Bruns from filing his columns.

All the Hamptons a stage, and Bruns is merely a lighting-guy-who-wants-to-make-it-with-the-lead-role in it! From Design House in Southampton hosting a pathetic attempt at some invitation only "salon," to his unforgettable night of glitz and glamour above a car dealership on Old Riverhead Road, he feels insanely super about the coming summer. "Places everybody, places!" he actually wrote. We'll get right on that, Sean.

Unforgettable quote? and by unforgettable, I mean puke. "Last year other clubs were getting 'celebrities' like John Gosselin and Mike Lohan. Dune wouldn't even let those guys through the door," said a conveniently anonymous "club goer" about the second season of Dune's sad existence.

Um...yes they will. Though the anonymous club goer doesn't think so. In fact the anonymous club goer thinks all other clubs suck, except Dune. Thank God Sean Bruns found this anonymous club goer who happened to be moseying on down Jobs Lane in Southampton looking for someone in the press to get the word out that Dune is the one and only for him. Dune is the Hamptons. Dune invented night clubs! And puppies.

Towards the end of the article, there's some accidental reporting going on: updates on what's happening with some of the existing night spaces left abandoned like Bernie Madoff's whore, on the side of Sunrise Highway, eye-liner streaked down the face awash in tears.

Some of the details are yet to be worked out in those spaces, only weeks away from Memorial Day as of print time. But don't worry. Entitlement is a hardy fig. And we're sure that whatever happens to 75 Main in Southampton, or The Pink Elephant...the space will surely blossom into producing ripe, healthy toolbags like what attended Annona that seductive April evening. Above the car dealership.

And Sean MFK Bruns' tears will go from sadness, to elation. And then quickly back to sadness.