The Hamptons Has New Artwork To Get Pissed About!

In 2010 it was Larry Rivers' legs sculpture in Sag Harbor that got all the local blue hairs in a twist, diming the sculpture to Code Enforcement and getting it removed.

Now it's Westhampton Beach's turn to have a holy conniption over the one thing that might actually make Westhampton Beach interesting to visit again.

Photo: VICTORALCORN.COM

 This is "Walking Man," a 30-foot aluminum sculpture by New York-based artist Donald Baechler. The sculpture was erected in the roundabout located near Westhampton's Gabreski airport, a sort of welcome committee for those who get off the County Road 31 exit on Sunrise Highway.

It's "Peanuts" meets Jeff Koons, in our Joe-the-Plumber approach to art appreciation.

"Balloon Dog" by Jeff Koons

 The installation was made possible by a commission from Rechler Equity Partners, the development company that is doing a lot more landscape-altering shit to the Hamptons than this walking Charlie Brown character rising up out of the middle of an air force base. But no matter, the residents are in a tizzy and they want it taken down.

Describing the sculpture as "ugly" and "in your face," one resident in the New York Post article from Taylor Vecsey of the East Hampton Star even volunteered to donate a crane and wrecking ball. Slow down, Rob Swanson Jr. We all know there hasn't been a wrecking ball in the Hamptons in some time and all you contractors have the foreclosure proceedings to prove it!

Which brings us to our finest point. In his stand-up routine Lewis Black talks about how small towns ought to build a "big fucking thing." Doesn't matter what it is, so long as it's big, and it's a fucking thing. Because everyone will drive out to see the big fucking thing, and then want to spend the night, which will lead to a Big Fucking Thing Hotel, and then a Big Fucking Thing-themed restaurant, a Big Fucking Thing Spa! And that's how you stimulate the economy.

Ever stop to consider, Westhampton, that this might be your big fucking thing?

"Where is the public forum?" wrote Cynthia McAvoy Schunk on the Westhampton Chamber of Commerce Facebook page.

Oh shut up, Westhampton.

Is Irma Herzog Really Renting The DASH Space For Free?

We're not sure if this could possibly be true, but Page Six is reporting (while in the process of reporting a silly non-story about Kourtney Kardashian not tipping the wait staff at the Driver's Seat) that the Kardashians are renting their space from Driver's Seat owner Irma Herzog for free.

Is this true? Man, that's some hippie shit right there. We're going to try and reach out to Herzog for comment, but that would seem like an odd business strategy. Sure having them there brings foot traffic to the Driver's Seat for hungry stalkers, but renting out an entire space on Jobs Lane for nary a dime? How could she swing that?

Let us know if there's any truth to this, or if the New York Post is doing what the New York Post is good at doing. Making shit up.

As for the main part of the story: in all likelihood, if they were filming a scene for their stupid show, the production staff probably handled the bill and tip, so that whoever was being shot in the scene didn't have to reach into their wallet and go through all the rigmarole. Calm down people.

Why Can't 'DASH' Go Through What Bookhampton Is Going Through?

Oh, this damn illiterate country. There's something just gut-cringing and teeth-gnashing about witnessing first-hand as people who either haven't earned, or don't deserve financial success celebrating their windfall, while earnest people have to beg in the streets.

And that's just what booksellers across America are doing. Recently the New York Times published an article on the absolute endangered species that bookstores in Manhattan have become, as each one falls victim to the $40,000 per month rent vs. two people bought something this week paradigm. In Manhattan, bookstores are down by 60%.

We initially rejoiced when Borders went belly-up, thinking that this would reopen the market to independent, mom-and-pops stores. No. People just don't read anymore. That's an overstatement, but you get the point. You know there is a cultural brain drain when it comes to the written word when Snooki's novel outsells Cormac McCarthy and Toni Morrison. It seems "You've Got Mail" only got it half-right. Perhaps the chain stores were our enemy in the late 90s, but a greater enemy seems to be our complete antipathy toward the written word unless it has been ghost written for movie stars and reality TV bimbos.

Which is why we are not surprised, but greatly saddened to receive this plea from the owner of Bookhampton, Charline Spektor:

Dear Friends and Neighbors and BookLovers: 

The most wonderful part of owning BookHampton has been the discovery of 
new books and the camaraderie of fellow readers. The saddest part is the 
awareness that all things, even those we cherish most, have days that are 
numbered. 

The frozen Winter and this very chilly Spring caught BookHampton in a 
grip that has brought us to our knees. We’re fighting to have one more 
Summer, and not to be bowed by the writing on the wall that forced our 
colleagues to close their doors. In NYC alone: Coliseum Books, Gotham, 
Endicott, Shakespeare & Co., Murder Ink, the lovely Madison Avenue 
Bookshop, the incomparable Books & Co., BN Lincoln Center and now 
Rizzoli – all gone. 

A good friend asked if there’s anything that we can do to hold on to 
BookHampton. As I tried to find one more answer, the brilliant metaphor of 
the great writer Anne LaMott came to mind. “My brother,” she wrote in 
Bird by Bird, “was trying to get a report on birds written that he'd had three 
months to write. It was due the next day… he was at the kitchen table close 
to tears… immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father 
sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother's shoulder, and said, 
'Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.'" 

So here then is my answer and a heartfelt request: Could you please help us 
take on the enormous challenge of saving BookHampton book by book. If 
every one of our friends, neighbors, and booklovers would be so kind as to 
buy one book today, it would make a true and immediate difference: 
bookhampton@bookhampton.com 

Please take a moment to order just one book right now from BookHampton 
Any book at all. bookhampton@bookhampton.com 

Tell us the book you’re looking for or let us make a great recommendation. 
We’ll hold it in store or ship it anywhere! 
Email: bookhampton@bookhampton.com 
Or call us : (631) 324-4939 or (631) 488-5953. 

BookHampton is the literary cornerstone of our community; 
the beach, the farms, and this bookstore enrich all our lives 
and nourish our souls. 

Thank you, in advance, for taking the time today to save BookHampton 
book by book. 

Charline 
 and Chris, Billy, Kim, Taylor, Mary, Sarah, Greg, Kate, Ken 

But, you know. Go ahead and shop at DASH. The Kardashians could use the money.

Kardashian's Landlord Hounded For Trying To Earn A Buck

So once again we are faced with the completely illogical phenomenon that is the Kardashians. Specifically we're referring to how successful their TV show is, despite the fact that seemingly the whole world wants them to pretty much die.

Fresh off totally reliable news outlet  Page Six of the New York Post, the villagers of Southampton are sharpening their pitchforks and lighting their torches to snuff out Irma Herzog. Her crime? Not responsibly going on welfare for the greater good of Keeping Out With the Kardashians. Herzog is the owner of The Driver's Seat and apparently the space adjacent to the long-standing eatery, which she rented out to the Kardashian girls for their pop-up store "Dash," which they'll be running for the duration of their reality TV show: "Muppets Take The Hamptons." 

Come on. Girl gotta eat.

Ever since word got out that Herzog dared to make a buck by leasing the space, she's been the subject of "harassment and torment," according to the article, which also quoted Jerry Della Femina, who oddly enough didn't blame Obama for the rented space. "She should be brought up on charges," said Della Femina, the Hamptons' resident right-wing lunatic. Suddenly he's anti-capitalism. Funny how that works.

[Hand raised]
-Yes, Hamptonyte Blog, do you have a question?

HB: We do...um...did the people of Southampton honestly think the entire production, public relations, advertising and network team that runs the Kardashian TV franchise would just pack up their trailers and cameras and leave because they couldn't find a place to rent?

-Yes, Hamptonyte Blog, yes, they apparently did.

[Face palm]

SIDEBAR:

We don't watch any of the Kardashian shows, so could someone tell us if Kourtney has trouble walking or something? Why is it that every picture of the two girls in the Hamptons shows Khloe leading her sister around like a pet Orangutan?

Observe:

The Most Ridiculous Help Wanted Ads Pt. 2

We're chronicling some of the most corporate-inspired lines of BS to ever find its way into a job description or title. Last week we brought you the "Educator" position at Lululemon. This week's installment includes Nike's bizarre job title for its openings in Riverhead and Deer Park.

Nike Seasonal Athlete.

Athlete? Will Nike be sponsoring my long jump? Are they looking for someone to wear their shirts at the Winter Olympics?

You wish. No, the Athlete is what they call the people who stock the shelves and ring up customer purchases. Or as we used to call them: stock boys and cashiers.

Nike Athlete. A position that holds firmly to the optimistic notion that the young people we're targeting don't read past the headline.

Hamptons homeless now visible without leaves to hide behind

We're not sure how to take this 2-page feature by the Associated Press, which was republished by ABC.com. On one hand there's the WhatTheFuckery of this:

It's not that the homeless don't exist in the string of famously exclusive waterfront communities on the eastern end of Long Island — they just blend in more easily when it's warm.

But then there's the delicious, CueTheGuillotinesery of this:

"The privet hedges, the beaches, the resort community, the gigantic homes that are used 12 weekends out of the year," she said. "Every time I drive past one of these homes that for the most part are empty, I'm thinking, wow, how many people could we house in this place?"

The profile is of Maureen's Haven, a nonprofit organization that provides shelter to homeless people on the east end. Their home base is in Riverhead, but appparently they house a lot of day laborers and minimum-wage workers in the Hamptons.

The story is interesting in that it addresses something that all of us here on the east end know already: that folks is brokes. I'm not sure what camoflogue the homeless are using in the summer, but I will admit I've never seen a homeless person the way you see them in New York City, where, for the record, you can spot them year-round.

Ours don't lay on benches I guess? Ours don't lean against buildings or sit on the ground? Ours know better? Hmmm.

Getting back to the last statement in the story, we love the idea of raiding these beachfront houses and stocking them with smelly poors. We already have one douchebag on our list of whose home to invade first.

Jerry Della Femina's Problems Would Make Jesus Christ Want To Murder Him

Jerry Della Femina's idea of poverty is so rage inducing we saw the Dalai Lama read this Business Insider article and then immediately turn around and punch an infant in the face.

Della Femina, the sleazy, slimy lying gold-toothed creep ad man was one of the few Madison Avenue execs who amassed his fortune and didn't manage to blow it on a coke habit in the 80s. He's been a permanent fixture in the Hamptons since forever and even opened up a successful restaurant with the money he made convincing people with money they don't have to buy shit they don't need.

Now he's sold his house because, well, because his poor unborn great grandchildren may not be able to sit by a pool lined with the skin of Mexican day laborers while doing lines off a blonde co-ed's back. Or as we used to call it: The American Dream.

That's right, a man who lives in America in 2012, with full knowledge of how high the unemployment rate is, who no doubt had to lay off some of his own workers at his various business ventures, who flies his helicopter over thousands of foreclosed homes, has the balls to complain that he's selling because he refuses to pay more taxes under the Obama administration.

Taxes? Really? Taxes? You do realize, Della Femina, that your tax bill is probably quadruple the monthly mortgage of the average home just west of where you live, right?

Instead of feeling fortunate that he even has the money to PAY those taxes, he's selling low just to avoid them. His ginormous, disgustingly lavish, and grossly unnecessary oceanfront house went for $25 million. He wanted $40 million. But he's settling for 25. A fact that makes us just...so sad.

“I want the proceeds of this sale to go to my kids and my grandkids,” he told The Post's Jennifer Gould Keil and Selim Algar. “I don’t want my money going to Obama, and that’s what’s going to happen in the New Year. That’s why I sold right now, that’s why I wanted to get this done.”
“I’m basically the loser in Obama’s class warfare,” he added.

Wow. That really gets us...right around...the chest/heart region or thereabouts. Another loser in Obama's class warfare, according the article, is Discovery Networks CEO David Zaslav, who inherited Della Femina's meager 8 bedroom, 6.5 bathroom, heated pool-even-though-there's-a-literal-ocean-500-feet-away, mansion that sits on 1.7 acres.

On a side note, we'd like to know how an advertising/marketing guru can be this culturally tone-deaf. On a sider note, we'd like to know how Della Femina's brain didn't say to him: 'please don't call the NY Post and...say anything like what you're about to say.' On an even sider note, we'd like Della Femina to eat a bag of dicks.

East Hampton Star Tries to Say With a Straight Face That The Rich Are Genuinely Philanthropic

Exclaiming "In your face!" in its opening line, this East Hampton Star article wants you to know it will be every bit as obnoxious as...well...as its opening line.

The "in your face" taunt is aimed at HuffPo and CNBC, presumably because they are the Sean Penn and Tim Robbins of journalism--perennial bogeymen of the paranoid right. According to this piece, the national survey (reported on by HuffPo and CNBC, because...well their job is to report) about the lackluster charity offered up by the wealthiest 1% is wrong because East Hampton's 1% give more than the middle class in the same area. The article, entitled The Rich Really Do Give More, by Larry LaVigne III, is a clinic in how to manipulate statistics. And also how to be a douche. A douche, yes, but not a huge douche, for the article does have its caveats.

Anyone who lives out here knows exactly why and how the wealthy in East Hampton spend "8.5%" of their discretionary income on charity. SWAG. STEP AND REPEATS.

At the very least, this article brings in one expert who, at the very least, hints at this reality.
“The strong and welcomed presence of nonprofits and the causes they support may keep charity top-of-mind for residents, and at a certain level of income and lifestyle, philanthropy becomes a regular part of social life.”

Lavigne tries to downplay this very poignant remark by referring to these lavish parties as merely a stab at some free drinks.

 "But is it more than an open bar of top-shelf cocktails in exchange for a five- or even six-figure ticket?"

Yes it is more. It's a LOT more. And you know this, LaVigne. We've heard of some cases where the free gift bags handed out at charity events added to a total value of $15,000. Add that to the allure of being photographed by local and national press, and rubbing elbows with famous actors, musicians, reality TV stars, and you can clearly see why the well-heeled turn out in droves. And arm flab. 

Care for more BS?

Quote: “A lot of Alec Baldwin’s fans come out to show support when he is tied to an event, but we have soooo much diverse talent that works with Guild Hall,” [Barbara Jo Howard, director of marcomms at Guild Hall] said."

Translation: Alec Baldwin's draw represents 99% of the money raised, while every other program running there suffers from Giveashit-itis.

Put simply, if East Hampton's rich were so giving of their discretionary income, why does EVERY SINGLE charity event held in the Hamptons have to wheel some celebrity out in front like Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs? Answer: Because nobody would go otherwise. It's not supernatural.

What? MORE BS?

Quote: Even though the wealthy may give a lesser percentage of their income elsewhere, the study finds that the richest Americans still contribute the vast majority of dollars to charitable causes.

Really. You know, I would have given my $10,000 to Save the Beleagered Manatees, but somehow my invitation to the Gala in East Hampton got lost in the mail. There's a reason why the rich give to charitable causes, because charitable causes ASK them to, you dolt!

Oh, East Hampton Star. You make me want to beat an angel to death with a little girl's puppy. 

Occupy the Hamptons Doesn't Occupy Common Sense

That grim looking fella to the left of this photo is right. We are the 99%. Especially us here at Hamptonyte Blog. We have all the requisite 99% problems: unemployment, disenfranchisement, disgust with corruption, irritation at the continued illusion we call the American Dream. Hell, we practically started this blog along similar sentiments.

We can't be so cynical as to criticize a small group of protesters holding up signs in a community that is veritably empty during the winter months, and sure to have them lined against a wall and executed arrested during the summer. Despite the usual Hamptons media eye-rolling these protests often create, we're pretty much on their side. We sort of admire the fact that reminders of the greed and corruption that plague our Republic will not be escaped when these creeps from Wall St. head out here on Memorial Day. For that we thank this small band of flies buzzing into the luxury ointment.

But we can't get on board their recent decision to occupy HarborFrost. It just doesn't make any sense. Simply pulling into the 7-11 parking lot, where a lot of the HarborFrost attendees parked, it was visibly evident by the lack of BMWs, Mercedes, and Audis, that many of us jumping into the frigid water were in the 99% and are most likely attending to take our minds off the struggle we endure daily.

I recognize there will always be some degree of shouting at the choir, but the last thing anybody wants to see at a festival, is a group of sober-faced grouches standing there with signs, reminding us how fucked we are change needs to take place in our capitalist system.

The occupy movement needs just a tad bit of PR in this spot. They already have policed themselves when it comes to individual members' behavior. Here's another instance where they should do so. Nothing makes the average person, liberal or otherwise, more turned off to a movement than when the movement doesn't know where or when to land its blows. The perception many walked away with during HarborFrost is that a bunch of sign-wielding, friendless shut-ins, with nothing better to do on a Saturday, attempted to hijack a fun event by drawing attention to themselves. The operative word "themselves." Not the movement. Or the message. Such is the importance of PR in this circumstance. The protest had absolutely no relevance to the festival, except for the fact that hundreds would be gathered in one spot. From a PR perspective, this screams the protestors want attention, more than they want to inform the public of an injustice. Now, if the festival was paid for and sponsored by Goldman Sachs or Lehman Bros., and the soup being served was made from the ground up bones of unemployed Americans who went into default on their mortgages, that would be a different story.

I'm often reminded of a great line in Oliver Stone's Jim Morrison biopic The Doors. The entire movie script is pretty much Jim Morrison wandering around being profound and prophetic, and waxing philosophical over every little thing. But there is one instance...one little line, when Morrison has just recorded one of his uber-intellectual, drippy, philosophical poems. He stands up from his session and says: "C'mon let's get some tacos."

Note to Occupy the Hamptons: Sometimes even Jim Morrison knew when to give it a rest!

What if the South kept "concierges" in chains?

There would have likely been no Civil War! Instead of a slave trade, how nice does a concierge trade sound?

We stumbled on this advertisement for a company that specializes in consolidating the numerous ways Hamptonites can remain spoiled, weeping, drinking balls of incompetence. This particular brand of servitude goes by many different names. Concierge service. Luxury concierge. Personal concierge.

"Whether you need a rental home, reservations at the best Hamptons restaurant or a babysitting, pet-walking, dry cleaning-picking-up assistant, we've got you...We tailor our services to suit your every need, and we strive to ensure there is no limit to what we can do for you. At Open Minded Concierge, our relationship with our members is always treated with the utmost respect and extreme confidentiality."

Yassuh, we aims to please, and we please to aim, suh. Our prediction: By 2025, the American population will consist of two groups...the wealthy, and their "concierges." If we've said it once, we've said it a hundred times, the failure of the South was in its poor marketing efforts. No worries. It will rise again. And that fact pretty much blows.

Study Hamptons Culture: Get Paid...Nothing

Sorry. That's the way internships go. But if you haven't heard back from a real job yet, or you already got turned down for that job as a public restroom attendant, or a sewage worker, or the guy holding a sign, waving to motorists, or the "geek" in "Shoot the Geek," or a waiter at Chucky Cheeses, there's one more option.

Hamptons.com is looking for interns. They put out a press release, and with a straight face tried to lure you in with the golden opportunity to learn journalism this summer .

Kids...you're going to learn many things at that internship. You'll learn the difference between a cosmo and a martini. You'll learn how to cozy up to celebrities. You'll learn how to re-can press releases. How to get invited to all the right parties and how to dangle your camera in front of you when you get there. How to use over-the-top hyperbolic language when describing a person, a party, or a dish. (fabulous, fantastic, fantastimonious, superberrendous!) You'll learn how to decipher between important people and not-important people. You'll learn how to ignore the not-important people. But you'll never. Ever. Ever. Learn journalism.

But hey, it's something to do, and maybe you'll meet Pauly Shore.

The Weakonomy: Naming Names

So we got a kick out of this article on CNBC.com, not because we don't think Lehman Bros. royally screwed people out of their future, but because, as a society, we've evolved to the point of stalking Lehman Bros. employees.

Meet Lehman Executive Erin Callan and her hunky piece of Queens firefighter love-hunk Anthony Montella (pictured here). They're enjoying themselves on a beach. Just look at her. She looks happy. Which is against the rules for executives at Lehman Bros., Goldman Sachs, or any of the investment companies that made us so proud to be little entrepreneurs.

Apparently Ms. Callan is named in a lawsuit filed by the California Public Employees' Retirement System, which, without even reading the details of the suit, sounds painful to think about. (Read: please don't tell me Lehman Bros. ransacked peoples' pensions.) Ms. Callan is one of three executives named in the suit, so CNBC.com decided to go dumpster diving on their asses.

No news regarding the other two, but they did get some sweet photographs of Callan and her boy-toy living it up in East Hamptons, dipping their toes in the sand. Callan poses with her head cocked, puppy-love style. Montella still has that look of disbelief prevalent on the faces of many wonks who bag themselves a financial whale. That "pinch-me-this-can't-be-happening" look. Ah, the lifestyles of the rich and morally bankrupt.

In addition to this bit of paparazzi scandal, the article also unearthed a montage of photos published on Webshots that Montella took of Callan's East Hampton home, which was on sale for a very modest $3.75 million, then pulled from the market and put back on the market for an inexcusable $3.9 million, and then pulled from the market and put back on for a more realistic and feasible $3.6 million. Be right back, I gotta go hit a cash machine.

As it stands, the house is back off the market and it appears Ms. Callan will remain in East Hampton, holed up with her hunky firefighter-man, (who may come in handy should Californian pensioners decide to come burn her house down). And lastly, but more importantly, her boyfriend has a Twitter account.

Tweeting? Really? The jury's still out on whether or not to behead you both.

Work For A NYTimes Blogger, Turned Restaurant Owner!

Bruce Buschel, the restaurant owner who recently bitched out readers on his New York Times blog You're The Boss, is now looking to hire just about every position it takes to run a restaurant. Why? Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that he posts the personal woes of his employees on his blog. Or maybe it has something to do with his overall lack of sympathy for staffers who believe that if they get behind the wheel in the midst of an east-end snowstorm, they'll die. Or maybe it's because he assumes his servers, by nature of their lowly stations, will never attend a book release party, or film premiere.

Either way, he's looking to fill the following positions. Be ready for a 10-day training period and, at the end of it, to be able to recite not only the menu, but Southfork Kitchen's "philosophy." Whatever that means. Godspeed:

He's looking for Cooks

He's looking for Front Of The House staff

He's looking for a Dining Room Manager

Rescue An Underprivileged Hamptons Partier Today!

It's rare that you get an opportunity like this. To help a team of struggling fame and namewhores, whose only dying wish is to repeat the glamorously good time they had last year! Guest Of A Guest (GofaG) is appealing to corporations' sense of philanthropy, by advertising for someone to "sponsor" their Hamptons party-house rental this summer.

That's right, folks. They had an amazing time last summer. Headbanging to Bon Jovi at the Talkhouse. Pretending to understand Polo in Bridgehampton. Toasting to the good life, and mainlining Bicardi and cocaine with Mary Kate Olsen until she suddenly hopped the fence and started eating her neighbor's bushes.

Now they want a repeat. A do-over. And for just the price of a cup of coffee, you can help this poor group of illiterate, and helpless souls realize their dream. A cup of coffee! A dollar a day.

We know, we know...you're thinking: 'Why should I? What's in it for me?' GofaG has that answer!

"We are excited about a possible partnership that would bring innovative ideas to the table, and is also excited about the value we could hopefully ad to their brand."

There you go. They'll "ad" to your brand, even if they can't spell "add."

So dig deep, friends. Don't be desensitized. Don't click off this blog post because you can't emotionally handle the heartbreak. These people need your help. Think about how sad you'd be if no one came forward to sponsor your parties.

The Weakonomy: Write For Free--THEN Prove Your Worth

Here's a great business model for upstart publications. Launch them Internet-only and then lure aspiring writers to fill the content under the illusion that perhaps one day they'll get paid. We've been seeing more and more of these "internship" opportunities popping up on Craigslist and other job sites.

Kids...if you want to intern at a publication, try the New York Times, or The New Yorker, or Bloomberg News. Every other publisher...stop trying to get free labor out of people by pretending you have so much priceless wisdom to impart. Pay up!

Our latest culprit: Nabe Wise, at nabewise.com. They want you to submit THREE pieces to their new Hamptons Web site venture BEFORE they even agree to take you on as an unpaid intern! Now that's taking it to the next level. We've got their slogan: Nabe Wise. Thinking outside the predatory entrepreneur box.

On the other hand, if you're Charlie Brown, convinced that Lucy will eventually not pull the football away before you kick it, here's the ad on Craigslist. Now go get me my coffee!

****UPDATE****

We're dicks. Read the January 15 blog post regarding this item.

The Weakonomy: Everyone's Too Poor to Bang

It's exactly like rap group Three 6 Mafia said it was: "It's Hard Out Here for a Person who brokers business transactions for services rendered between an experienced woman and a lonely man.

Wow, the economy sucks so bad that nobody wants to get sucked so bad? According to this article in Business Insider, who took its cue from the Daily News, the swinger "industry" (industry? Really?) is taking a beating in this economic climate, as attendance is way down and membership to exclusive swinger clubs is getting a little too prohibitive.

Especially in East Hampton, where, according to the article, swinger clubs are still charging about $300 for you to get your freak on with a whole crew of sweaty people. Memberships further west including New York City cost about $150.

Damn zone pricing. Still. We can't just skip the cable bill? Or cut up a credit card?

Badvertising: The Job Search

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Badvertising: Hamptonyte's Guide to Nightmare Jobs

A new feature here on Hamptonyte will highlight job openings whose language in the advertisement should send up a red flag to anyone who might still have the luxury of picking and choosing what they wish to do for a living (if such people still exist.) From Craigslist, to MediaBistro, to CareerBuilders, we'll decode the language so you don't have to.

First up: This ad, which posted on Craigslist on October 27 for a "PR (public relations) Intern." What got our attention first? The word "whining." Kids...whenever a potential boss says he/she doesn't want "whining," RUN. Run far away. Because whining probably means you can't tell him about any obstacle that prevented you from performing your job. This could mean anything from a broken-down subway car, to accidental amputation. Ie: "stop whining about your arm getting chopped off, you totally have another one. Get back to work!"

"We would prefer to have someone from the Brooklyn area (Williamsburg/Greenpoint) as we don't want to have to deal with anyone whining about the incredible journey it was for them to travel from Manhattan to Brooklyn, late arrivals, etc. If you can handle the commute and don't think you need a passport to get here feel free to apply."

As if this isn't douchey enough, peep the other warnings to steer clear from this agency:

"This is not a job for someone who is going into PR for the parties, free gifts, chance to be on a reality show or to gawk at celebrities. If you're capable and a good representative of our team we'll bring you along to events, tapings etc. but don't expect it solely because you work with the agency."

Here's why you need to ignore this post. PR jobs are almost ALWAYS centered on parties, free gifts, and the chance to gawk at celebrities...it's what CREATED the industry in the first place. Any PR agency that pretends to divorce itself from that culture is LYING. They want to gawk at celebrities just as much as you do; they just don't have enough passes to get you into the joint. Next please.

Why We Hate (cough,cough Love) The French

Because they spend two days in a "luxury" rental house in the Hamptons and then dash out of there before paying.

According to Reuters, Real Estate Pimps Kandinksy Escape LLC is suing a senior executive at Lazard Ltd. for allegedly pulling a two-day dine & dash on the house they rented out to him.

French citizen, Matthieu Pigasse (pronounced "Pig-Ass," we're pretty unsure) is accused of leaving the Southampton premises (without paying a deposit or security) only two days into a three-week agreement to rent the place . The way it went down is, apparently, Pimp Kandinsky pimped out the property to lesser pimps Prudential Douglas Elliman, who then turned the keys over to Pigasse without asking for a dime. Sure, they figured he was good for it; he's Lazard's Vice Chairman for Europe for God's sake.

But such is the state of the way we live now: even the rich have to crash on couches and keep moving to the next opportunity.

Apparently Pigasse left the house because he claimed the house didn't look like it did in the pictures. Duh! Of course it didn't, they're real estate pictures! My house looked like a doll house with a football field in the back yard until I pulled up to it and thought I'd reached the set of the Addams Family.

Kelly Bensimon Sells Clothes For A Cause. Still Manages To Sound Like An Idiot

We know. Ripping apart this broad is low-lying fruit, and we usually try to be fair when someone repugnant does something to benefit humanity. In this case, we can't.

Real Housewives of New York City star Kelly Bensimon was out on someone's front lawn in Amagansett this past week. Eating their grass and sputtering out nouns? No. She was selling her soul, (see also: her clothes) for charity. If you happened to make it to her big fur yard sale, you too can dress like so last year.

The proceeds of cleaning out her closet to make room for this coming year's unnecessarily absorbidant shopping spree went to benefit Island Harvest, a non-profit organization that helps feed hungry Long Islanders.

Wonderful. Insightful. Caring. Philanthropic. Kelly...how does this act of generosity fit, philosphically speaking, into your world-view?

Added Bensimon: "I can't even do a yard sale without my hair being done."

Sigh. Something tells me she can quote Plato's Republic and make it sound stupid.