Kardashian Stalker Arrives In Record Time

We swear, we never thought we'd write this much about the Kardashians, but this must be our fifth post? Consider it a public service announcement, because we think our "Hamptons" Google Alert we set up netted a pretty scary dude.

It's the blog of "evilsax," a multi-blogger who recently published two posts on his blog "Diary of a Republican Hater." In the first post, "I Drop Into The Hamptons During Kardashian Season," he pretty much divulges his obsession with Kourtney Kardashian and how he enlisted friends to drive him from Baldwin, NY out to Southampton to stalk the DASH store. When they arrive, the Kardashians are not there.

His grand plan when he sees them?  

I had been ready to tell Kourtney that Scott's a nice guy but 'we both know he's not worthy of you, that he doesn't treat you like you deserve to be treated' which we would follow by a song-the Car's 'You Might Think'-and old 80s hit. Of course, we didn't see them. Our last ditch effort was to go to 75 Main St. for dinner but, of course, we had neglected to sign up for a reservation.

Even more interesting is that his one friend "Kev" brought another friend, "Pauly" and the two of them like to do a bit in public where one punches the other in the stomach as hard as he can.

 Often they get quite a kick out of it. We're trying to stoke things.

Yeah, so...

If his failed attempt to find her house in Noyac, or track her movement to the General Store in Noyac, or his failed attempt to catch up to her in DASH, or his last-ditch effort to find her at 75 Main doesn't scare you a little, his next blog should.

It's called "OK I Make The Case For a Mike Sax-Kourtney Kardashian Merger." Enough said, but we'll give you some nuggets anyway.

 Ok, so if I never get to make my case to Kourtney, much less serenade her with that Cars song-'You Might Think' what is my case? I mean why would she be interested in some totally random guy who she doesn't know and is some wildeyed super to boot? 

And...

So in a back drop of disappointment for the Kardashian women, could it be that we will be a breath of fresh air? I mean for Kourtney, maybe she can use a guy like me-with my Quixotic worship; I mean, compare this to what she's used to; indeed maybe the Kardashians will find super fans a refreshing change as they spend a lot of time around people who have a 'been there, done that' attitude to celerity. 

And...

I'm just going to try to get her autograph and hopefully get to talk to her for a few minutes, and sing the Cars song. Kev will do his shtick with his wrestling friend where he punches him in the stomach as hard as he can. The guy seems not to feel it. 

         Maybe such dorkishness will be a nice change of pace. Also, now that I have a little cash-nowhere their money, of course-she might like that a little better. I mean the one thing she certainly doesn't want is a guy who wants her money. 

Good luck, dude, go for it! Oh, but wait. Her kids. Darnit!

Actually, the one thing I'm less sure about is her kids. I have nothing against them, but it does seem that she's so involved with them she has no time for Scott. I don't think he's blameless-and naturally I'm going to take Kourtney's side no matter what-but I feel for the guy the way she makes him sleep in another room every night.

So yeah, he's coming back to the Hamptons in a "couple weeks" to stalk her again. That didn't take long, did it.

Pub Crawls Made Easier With Hamptons Hopper?

This summer the Hamptons will be graced with an alternative to Pink Tuna and the Hampton Jitney. Some whippersnapper entrepreneurs have come up with the Hamptons Hopper, a new venture designed to ferry drunk and self-important Abercrombie models to all the night spots from Montauk to Hampton Bays.

Using converted school buses (we can't wait to see the fashionistas try to look cool getting on the small bus), the Hamptons Hopper buses are painted green and boast air conditioning, lounge seating and plugins for iPhones.

In fact, the whole venture is very tech-savvy. Of course, like any business in the Hamptons, you can't just get on the friggin thing; you have to have a "membership," which starts at $20 and your membership card is basically showing the driver your iPhone.

In June, Hamptons Hopper plans to launch an iPhone App that allows you to track when and where the next small bus is heading your drunken way.

They're also hiring. On Board Ambassadors, for one, which is a dick title. You'd be more like a stewardess catering to 20-something booze floozies, but it's a living.

Planning to ride this new bus? Send us pictures and let us know if it's worth the membership. In the meantime, check out their website and Facebook page.

To be fair, I was sort of with this idea until I read: "You will have access to some complimentary refreshments.  Most importantly, you’ll meet a whole bunch of other intelligent and incredibly good-looking members at our stops and on our Hopper vehicles!"

What would a new Hamptons venture be without channeling its inner Derek Zoolander? Answer: one you didn't want to punch in the dick.

Dan's Pumps Up Local Authors

Still smarting from literary events getting hijacked by movie stars with ghost-written cookbooks, to quote Jay McInerney?

Just a few short months after the East Hampton Library's 9 Annual Authors Night, which looked more like Black Friday at Walmart USA when Gwyneth Paltrow and Alec Baldwin showed up, Dan's Papers put together a nicely researched poster of local authors whose books might make for some stocking stuffers.

Oliver Peterson drafted "5 Picks For Readers and Writers," and it was impressive not only to see some of the old guard (Steinbeck, Vonnegut) but that serious contemporary writers got a mention. Kaylie Jones' novels "Speak Now" and "A Soldier's Daughter Never Cries" features along with Hilary Thayer Hamann, whose novel "Anthropology of an American Girl" saw more resurrections than an episode of AMC's "Walking Dead."

Jones used to teach at Southampton College and continued on as a professor in the MFA in Creative Writing program when Stony Brook University took over the campus. Not sure if she's still there, but she recently stinted as the editor of Akashic's Noir series where she contributed a short story based in the Hamptons. Translation: her Hamptons ties run deep, unlike some others we won't mention. (Ahem--tomwolfe-Ahem) Excuse us.

AWESOME: Not seeing Nelson Demille's cover on the tapestry

NOT AWESOME: Seeing Dan Rattiner's "In The Hamptons" on the tapestry. Come'on, man. I know he's your boss and all, but...

ALSO...surprised to see James Frey on the tapestry, as I had no idea he spent any time in the Hamptons. Good for him. (Always thought he got a raw deal over the whole Oprah thing. There's truth and then there's emotional truth.)

Did Bruce Buschel's douche chills contribute to his shuttered restaurant?

We'd like to think so, and so do the good folks at Curbed Hamptons, who reported a few weeks ago that Buschel's Southfork Kitchens on the Bridgehampton Turnpike is up for sale for $3.8m.

Buschel, no stranger to this blog, is somehow a complete stranger to the idea that shitting on your target demographic often makes your target demographic suddenly hungry for McDonalds. Although, in fairness to Buschel, McDonalds is probably where Buschel figured his demographic eats anyway.

Buschel is a rare and interesing character in that, it's rare for people to want to see someone's dreams battered like Private Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, yet sooo many people wanted to see that with him (peep the comments in the link). It's rare for someone to see their dream fulfilled and then completely undermine it by publicly attacking his own patrons in all his New York Times-contributing what-the-fuckery. It's rare for a New York entrepreneur to be so vaginally thin-skinned as to respond to relatively obscure blogs that criticize said what-the-fuckery, and it's rare for a massive amount of people to take glee in someone else's demise. Yet that is what Buschel and all the douche chills he invokes, has done.

Look at it this way: his restaurant closing is the equivalent of people saying 'I would rather starve than eat at your place.' Ah Buschel. The douche is strong in this one.

So Southfork Kitchens has shuttered. And that's a good thing. And Buschel may walk away with $3.8 million. And that's a bad thing.

See. We don't even want you to have money!

What's with all the horror films in the Hamptons?

We know it's a horrible place, full of fameballs, loud-mouths, vengeful deers, suicidal whales, dog-poop activists, pyramid schemers, sex-offenders and celebrity suck-up ass-wipes, but we didn't think it would attract peoples' homicidal fantasies.

Last month, Hampton Bays was host to Old 47, a horror film about Miley Cyrus desiring to put her younger sister through the same bullshit she has to endure. Now another film crew is looking to film "Horror in the Hamptons," by the end of February.

This Craigslist casting call doesn't give much on the plot details, but it could be an opportunity for local actors to embarass themselves land a screen role with a SAG-sanctioned film. The call asks for 5 men and 8 women to audition for parts. And, of course, the most important element of any successful actor in the history of acting: you must be good-looking.

If you're interested and you think you're good-looking enough to be in movies, break a leg. Please.

Albanian immigrant arrested for wrong reason

Meet Praq Rado. His story is told by Taylor Vecsey in the East Hampton Patch in an article that went up last week. Rado is awaiting his fate in Los Angeles while the American government decides whether or not to deport him back to Albania, from which he fled 11 years ago.

Rado had been happily bobbing along, modeling, acting, writing, dancing in gay bars...until one day he made the all-too-common mistake of taking the Hamptons International Film Festival seriously. He put together a 25-minute short film about his immigration experience and then accidentally entered it into the HIFF.

He further compounded his mistake by trying to attend the HIFF in October, and was summarily scooped up by immigration police and is now out on bail pending a decision. His lawyers are arguing that he should have been arrested for impersonating a serious person who entered his film into a serious film festival.

According to the article, which is well-written by the way, Rado belongs to the minority Catholic population in the largely Muslim Albania, and we needn't think about what might happen to Rado if he should be returned there, after living out of the closet for so long.

So yeah. We pray for Rado. And we hope the story inspires in all of us a lesson about the Hamptons International Film Festival.

If forced to choose between entering and attending the HIFF or being sent to Muslim-controlled Albania...

We would have to think on it for a while.

Alec Baldwin's Wife Must Have Had A Shitty Dad

In another installment of Human Bratz Doll Gina Glickman-Giordan's hard-hitting investigation of the Hamptons we all know as "Whispers," our favorite brown-noser bopped all the way to "Yoga Gives" in Southampton and went all gonzo journalism on us.

Embedded in the dark trenches of an underworld known as Yogis, she braved degradation, humiliation, perspiration, and possibly even death to deliver us an insider's look at how the rich exorcise and cleanse from the horrors and stresses of being rich. Hunter S. Thompson would have been proud. Proud that he refrained from shooting her.

In either event, after dropping the very important fact that she was not wearing Yoga clothes, she was wearing her "Lululemon finest yoga attire," she got into the purpose of her visit. To seek out and delve deeply into the life and times of Hilaria Thomas Baldwin, newly minted wife of actor Alec Baldwin.

What did we learn? First and foremost that despite our constant urge to finish her name with an "S" by calling her "Hilarious," it's actually pronounced Ee-larry-ah, which, we also learned, is Spanish for Golddigger "happy."

We also learned that despite Eelarryah's seemingly cest-la-vie attitude and folksy aw-shucksism, she, like most wealthy women in the spotlight, is just as absorbed and cooky, and control-freaky about her body image. When she was apparently accused of donning a "baby bump" at a recent charity event, she tried to control her apeshit, but couldn't, and took to Twitter with: "Shld rumors that I’m pregnant give me a complex about my waistline? How slim do u have to be? This is a serious problem in society.”

Well, really it's just a problem for you, fatty. And clearly you already have a complex about your waistline. Enjoy your beer gut.

We also learned that putting a person's name in bold-face type doesn't make them a celebrity. Who knew?

But most importantly, we learned that Hilaria must have had a really lousy father. "I think anybody would be so lucky to have Alec as a dad.” (Bold-type Gina's, not ours. Of course.)

"I think anybody would be so lucky to have Alec as a dad.” Aw. We can understand where she's coming from. Just check out Alec's new line of Birthday Cards for Children Whose Age You're Unsure Of, Or If In Fact They Are Children At All below:



 Bold-type...Ours.

Hamptons Hosts Ridiculous Hat Convention

We're not sure what this is but our friends at Guest of a Guest captured a photographic essay of people being huddled into a tent and apparently forced to wear ridiculous hats. Our only guess is that it's some sort of Hamptons hazing gone horribly wrong. You have:



Just keep smiling and don't turn around. Do Not Turn Around.











 

 

The hat made from leftover ribbons at the bridal shower.

Air Syria flight attendant flushed accidentally as plane passed over.

After his refusal to wear the baby blue fedora, his captors acquiesced and handed him the equally shameful peach blazer with a handkerchief sticking out of the pocket.

It's not a hat if they have to pin it to your hair. Or, as in this case, allow the bird to keep his talons so he can grip firmly down on the scalp. Her smile is one of controlled pain.

This group tried its best to camoflogue the little one as a white girl by squishing down what was left in their flower garden on top of a nest of lace. Oh, when rich people adopt.

Bride of Barney

You can actually SEE her wondering how ridiculous she looks.

This 4 Non-Blondes wardrobe sale came with a miniature-sized replica of the Mayor of New York City. She wouldn't stop bragging about how much of a steal it was.

She brought enough hat for the two of them, but he kept insisting.

Okay, that's actually Edith Beale, but so long as we're documenting batshit crazy....





 

How Does All Kinds of Awesomeness Reside In One Person?

We're late to the Twitter game, and still haven't followed this man, but if you like Hamptonyte Blog, you'll love Hamptons handyman Joe Schwenk's Twitter account. It is filled with all sorts of nuggets about the type of requests he fills and people he encounters while doing odd-jobs for the Hamptons wealthy.

New York Magazine just printed a summer wrap-up article with Schwenk, who has over 6,000 followers on Twitter, all frothing at the mouth to hear what he encounters on a daily basis. Like my favorite new term "Beachtrepreneur," which perfectly sums up these women who have hitched their star to successful men and now find all sorts of time to whittle away the hours paddleboarding, taking instagram photos of themselves eating produce, and spin-cycling.

The best. Plus he has ginormous balls to risk losing business in a region that still has an old-school privacy about them. He even mentions some staff signing confidentiality agreements when hired. For those reasons, Hamptonyte Blog feels sad around him. Unaccomplished. Quite the posers, really. We can only wish for such access to that world.

So follow him. He's better than us.
But we're funnier. So follow us too! Go.

Celebrities Attempt to Wrap Brains Around Tragedy: Realize They Have No Brains

The real tragedy is in the asking. When Professional Blonde Muppet Gina Glickman-Giordan (whose metamorphasis into pretentious Hamptonyte is now complete with the hyphenated name) asked a room full of VIPs at the Bridehampton Polo Club what they thought of the Aurora, Colorado "Dark Knight" shootings, our only explanation for the answers she got was that they were all high. Someone left the valve open on the helium machine. Someone brought in some special-baked brownies. Our only explanation for Dan's Papers actually publishing the responses is that the newspaper hates them.

The only "celebrity" but sort of isn't one  who came close to a reasoned response was Polo Player Chris Del Gatto, who said "The first thing we think about is our children and that you could be some place as innocuous as a movie theater taking them out for a family evening and something like that happens." If you're looking for clarity after that the closest you can come is Countess LuAnn de Lesseps, who started out on solid footing and then gave us every reason why we should take away her fame. "I think it's terrible and I feel so bad for the families. I have children and everybody has children that they are connected to those people that were there."
Huh? But that was not to be topped by the absolute beauty pageant answer we got from Donna Karan's neer-do-well daughter (whom Glickman felt the need to run down her resume as though she gained all this by herself) Gabby Karan:

"It breaks my heart. I think that we just have to change in our soceity and try to give back a little bit more."

Who knew charity and soup kitchens can stop mass murder?
What this column truly exemplifies is something that sort of strikes at one of the pillars of why we launched Hamptonyte Blog. Just because you're a celebrity, does not mean you should be tapped to give opinions. In fact you probably shouldn't. Because you're a brand. And brands are very touchy not to say anything that even smells of controversy. Okay, that's too long of a pillar, but the lesson stands all the same.

Rule #127: When commenting on a blog...know who you're defending

Many moons ago, we published in an innocuous little blog piece entitled The Worst. Press Release. Ever. It was a press release that didn't, um...release anything. It wasn't a new promotion, it wasn't an incident, it wasn't details on a new store opening. It was a synopsis of a party thrown by a rich couple, featuring amateur acts all coralled by a man in the know in the Hamptons: Tariq Alexander.

His "network" is called TSW, The System Within, and apparently it's a social network for wanna-be celebrities looking for their big break, not by auditioning, or working hard at their craft, or conceptualizing something amazing and fresh, and new. No. By going to the parties where powerful people hang out and basically throwing themselves at them. It's a form of charlatanism we often overlook in our culture. The by-product of our short-cut, American Idol, skip-the-line, skip-the-hard-work, go right to the front because you're special mentality.

The post sat dormant for months until suddenly we got inundated with multiple comments from "users" (appropriate word) of Tariq's network, The System Within.

Even though you believe the press release mentioned in the original post may not have been the most well written announcement of the Hamptons event, I fully support the spirit of what they were trying to accomplish. I have worked with TSW in the past and found it to be an incredibly helpful organization. They have always bent over backwards to help me with any problems or questions that I have encountered and have been a great resource for connections within the entertainment world. As mentioned by the poster above, the entertainment industry is incredible difficult to break into and having the resources of TSW at my disposal have made the audition process and the endless search for new contacts much easier. From my point of view, knowing the assistance that TSW has provided to me in the past, this event sounds like it was a wonderful opportunity for those involved to network and show off their talents. Although the press release did not relay what it was meant to, I think it is important to look beyond it to the important service that TSW is providing to its clients. I have fully enjoyed and appreciated the assistance I have received from Mr. Alexander and his company would urge others trying to break into entertainment to consider using TSW as a resource.

And

I'm sorry you had a bad experience with TSW. I've been using it myself for quite some time now and personally I love it. I've received a lot of helpful insight and tips that previously did not occur to me. I've also received various career and network opportunities that proved to be very useful. I've also spoke with others who have worked with the company in the past, including those I’ve recommended, all of whom have given positive feedback.

For a while we felt bad for throwing poor Mr. Alexander under the bus. But at long last, the universe makes sense again. Our last commenter dropped us a little alley-oop by way of some link love to multiple news sources reporting that Alexander's "TSW" business is under investigation for developing a pyramid scheme, whereby the number of referrals and paid users funnels money upward for not a whole lot of Return On Investment. The links are here, and here. So yeah. There's a lesson for the above commenters. Before you go out on a limb for someone, make sure it isn't rotten to the trunk. And by rotten, we mean Pyramid Schemes. And by Pyramid Schemes, we mean Tariq Alexander.

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!

Battle Over Who Owns God Headed For Courts

One would think that in the age of "Occupy," the 1% would just pipe down a little bit. We're sort of delighted that they haven't.

Homeowners in Napeague (aka, the 1%) are in the middle of a legal fight with the Town of East Hampton over their desire to keep all the poors off the beach they feel is rightfully theirs because they purchased it years ago from God.

The Town says the parcels along that stretch of beach were sold under the condition that beach access would not be restricted to anybody. At the time, the beach was mainly accessed by east end baymen who parked on the street and walked down to the water to go to work in the morning. As the baymen died off, and they began to gradually be replaced by fucking assholes wealthier residents, those residents decided they didn't want barnacly, old, raggedy and completely not fabulous poors wandering their beaches.

The residents of Napeague of course are arguing that the beachgoers leave behind broken bottles, and burned out cars, and dead bodies, and zombies, but nobody is buying that to date. Bottom line is, God gave them the right to close off the beaches to the stinky public and the town should honor God.

Their appeals have fallen on deaf ears in the local courts and now it's headed to another court. So the residents said, "well, can you at least temporarily bar the poors from coming here?" and the courts said...not so much.

So yeah. The public says by principle nobody should own the beach, nobody should own nature. Shut up public.

*God did not immediately return calls for comment.

Inside the Social Life Magazine Kerfuffle

After some follow-up conversations with Christopher London, Hamptonyte blog got a pretty broad picture about the nature of his issue with Social Life Magazine Editor-In-Chief Devorah Rose, who recently landed back on the pages of the NY Post after airing her dirty possibly imaginary relationship with novelist Salman Rushdie.


When the story broke, London issued a formal letter that essentially posed an ultimatum to the magazine's publisher Justin Mitchell: either Devorah goes, or I can no longer contribute to the magazine as its Society Editor. The magazine, along with the people it covers, are in hibernation until Memorial Day, so no word yet from Mitchell how he plans to deal with the friction between the two editors. In an e-mail to Hamptonyte blog, Rose declined to say anything on the record about London's letter. (Incidentally, if Rose was in journalism she'd know that "off the record" is not something you can just say, like Hocus Pocus, or Olly-Olly Oxenfree. Both parties are supposed to agree to it, but we decided to be nice).

Usually when an Editor-in-Chief (see: head honcho) is threatened with resignation from a section editor (see: NOT head honcho), the section editor gets escorted out of the building by security. We found it curious that London's letter didn't lead to an automatic shakeup at the magazine. Then we got some more information about the gist of Social Life's operations.

According to London, Rose is really just an EIC in name only. Like, really just name only, as in: doesn't have much jurisdiction or veto power over editorial content. In a sense, London boiled her responsibilities down to a marketing/PR role, whereby she wines and dines and 69s the subjects the magazine covers and then lets the writers step in. She makes decisions about the cover, and contributes her column "Royal Court," which sounds so completely obnoxious, (without having actually laid eyes on the column) we are currently on e-Bay seeking to purchase a guillotine.

For the most part, all editorial content flows to Mitchell, and everyone who works on the magazine does so as contributors. This includes London, which explains why he's not sitting on the curb at the magazine's NYC office with a box full of his personal items and a sign around his neck. London is one of the older contributors; according to him the magazine has a young staff. We're imagining something along the lines of a journalistic sweatshop. Young, disadvantaged, naive little hopefuls, working for gold stars and what's left in the bottom of a Devorah-ransacked charity-event swag bag.

London said when he was first approached by Mitchell it was a collaborative effort to pool resources and tap into London's knowledge of NYC high society, a knowledge he'd apparently gained while photographing society events for his own website. According to London, Mitchell seemed hungry to get a look into the world of NYC society, and worked overtime to develop his own contacts. Somewhere along the line, and if the NYT article is accurate that "somewhere" was an event at the MoMA, he met Devorah Rose and he had his EIC.

Most journalists will often tell you that when they get invited to attend an event, charity or otherwise, they usually hang back and observe. But according to London, Rose took no such approach to Social Life's coverage, much to the chagrin of some of the charitable organizations that invited Social Life along. London wrote to us:

"Once I started writing for the magazine, certain invitations that came to my attention were swiped by Devorah and they began to ingratiate themselves with people who knew me, including insisting on a table at their gala if they want SL Mag to cover the event. I had certain publicists ask me why they wanted a whole table. Did they not know that this was not proper protocol?"

It gets better:

"Any swag which came to the magazine was often seized by her for use with her friends. Hence most of what Devorah shows up at are nightclub events and commercial charitable vehicles for Reality TV."

Which brought London to his ultimate point: Rose is merely using her position to leverage any opportunity to become a reality TV star, even stooping, according to London, to placing key players in reality television on the cover of Social Life. In essence, the magazine gives her access, and she uses that access to further her less-than journalistic aims. Tsk, tsk, Devorah.

Over the phone, London told Hamptonyte blog that the Rushdie incident was the straw that broke the camel's back because it came off as so inauthentic. In a follow-up e-mail, he added these remarks:

"It is even more clear that Salman Rushdie was a 'mark', a man who was clearly being used to extend DR's Famegame. The fact that she tweeted the pic herself with rather suggestive language for a "do over" with the famous author and then complained he was only after one thing, is interesting...There was a quick effort to cash in on the notoriety of having had any contact with him...Wouldn't she try to persuade him of her sincere interest first before giving him up to the tabloid media? Rushdie served his purpose, the famous ladies man got her two front page appearances in the NY Post, in one week."

Let's put it this way. If London doesn't leave the magazine, and Rose stays put as EIC...this is going to make one hell of an awkward office Christmas party.

Breaking: Social Life Magazine editor threatens to quit

Social Life Magazine's standing Society Editor Chris London drafted an official letter threatening to leave the magazine if Devorah Rose continues on as Editor-In-Chief.

The issue is over Rose's recent public outing of author Salman Rushdie's ill-fated decision to speak to Rose on a personal basis. The two have been involved in a mini-Page 6 battle in the NY Post, spurned on by Rushdie's attempt to deny anything more than a platonic relationship with the EIC of Social Life. After more than 20 years, Rose was able to do what the Ayatollah couldn't: deliver Rushdie's head on the platter of public humiliation, by essentially copy/pasting all of his personal messages to her via e-mail and Facebook.

In the letter, London described Rose as "socially parasitic" and took issue with her description of the Rushdie relationship as "abusive."

"PLEASE NOTE that if Devorah remains on Social Life Magazine's masthead as Editor in Chief in the Summer of 2012, this Society Editor will no longer contribute in any capacity to said publication. The publisher has a decision to make."

London also posted a scathing column as a contributor to Cape Cod Today. We'll keep following this and let you know how it all washes.

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.

Hamptons porno to shoot July 18

We're not sure if this is slated for the Hamptons International Film Festival yet, but while Dan's Papers has its eye on the very latest in the world of Royal Pains we'll be on the lookout for a porno that is set to shoot in the Hamptons this coming Monday.

According to this Craigslist casting call, Casting Director Steve Murphy held auditions late last month in South Huntington for not one, but two porno films. He was looking for sexy females between the ages of 18 and 30, to get paid a tidy sum of $2,500 each.

We reached out to Murphy, but unsurprisingly he never got back to us for comment on such questions as, "What hotel are you shooting in? What room? How can one get invited to the wrap party."

Here's to hoping the film shoot goes so well that the Hamptons becomes the next San Fernando Valley. You think a 7-11 opening in the Hamptons is bad, wait until Dirk Diggler walks into a Golden Pear and stirs his coffee without using his hands.

Hate Mail, and Devorah Rose's obnoxious post-Times profile reaction

After our take-down of Devorah Rose, the shameless, self-promoting, celebrity-obsessed suck-up who edits a magazine nobody has physically seen editor of Social Life magazine, we'll admit our shock to see in the comments section of the post, one of her satisfied customers, lying in a Bridgehampton motel bed, smoking a cigarette, breathing in the lingering scent of Rose's perfume long after she got dressed and headed out to be seen...somewhere other than, um, editing something. After a long drag on the cig, "CPT" pounded out this missive:

"You're clearly an idiot and clearly unhappy with your own life. Devorah and a lot of other people are out there doing things with their lives. Oh, and besides the libel, you are flat out lying to readers when you claim Devorah is "admittedly...'more interested in Social Life's parties..." - the biased NYT writer said that, it was not a quote from Devorah. Get a clue, you miserable hack."

Oh, little friend...there are quotes and then there are quotes.

“The first event I went to, the paparazzi were there, and I had my photo taken,” she said. “After that, people started sending me clothes.”

"Ms. Rose bubbled with pride as she described the celebrities at the party."

"When Mr. Stern showed up, Ms. Rose said she nearly cried. “It was the highlight of my night,” she said."

The highlight of her night. Not that she'd written a successful piece, or that she'd discovered something about Beth Stern that was unique and difficult to ascertain, or that she'd put together a solid issue of stories with journalistic integrity. No. She met Howard Stern. So, um...yeah, Devorah Rose is admittedly more interested in Social Life's parties than its content. The libel case against Hamptonyte is hereby...dismissed.

But what's more infuriating than this sycophantic dipshit supporter defending her? Her post-NYT profile Q&A with Abe Gurko, that's what. In it she kvetches about how she was duped into believing that the NYT writer was going to put together a glowing, suck-up review of her life and nonaccomplishments. She thought the profile was going to be all hyperbole and promotion, and chock-full of flattering and congratulatory paragraphs. In short, she thought the profile would be like most of the celebrity profiles that get published in Hamptons magazines! Then this horrible NYT writer goes and ruins it with her "agenda." You know, her agenda. Like being objective. Like not taking Rose's word at face-value. Like reporting the truth when Rose tries to sneak some bullshit through. That agenda. In J-school it's not called an agenda, so you might be more familiar with its other name. Reporting.

Some lines from her Q&A:

"DEVORAH: I was hesitant at first but she put on a quite an act. It wasn’t until right before the article came out that I realized she did, in fact, have ulterior motives" (By ulterior motives she means journalism.)

DEVORAH: The tone of the article does not seems fitting for The New York Times
(Devorah wouldn't know what "tone" is anymore than she knows what "ammonia" is; she's not a journalist.)

DEVORAH:Seeing the photos felt great…but then I read the article. I never knew “self-made” could be a pejorative term. (Self made? One of the most irritating descriptions anyone can assign to themselves. From the NYT piece: "her mother, a physician, moved to Newton, a predominately upscale Jewish suburb of Boston"... "She later said [her father] was a businessman who split his time between Bogotá, Colombia, and Boca Raton, Fla"... "Ms. Rose met Mr. Mitchell at a soiree at the Museum of Modern Art in 2001. “If you start a magazine, I will edit and write for it,” Ms. Rose recalled telling him. He agreed."

Ah, that's so self-made!

DEVORAH: Well, let’s focus on the positive – which requires ignoring High Society

(No. You don't get to needle and scratch backs and wheel and deal your way onto reality shows and then turn around and ignore the very vehicle that landed you the notoriety you have.)

But that's Devorah Rose in a nutshell. As opposed to falling to her knees in disbelief at the good fortune she's had, disproportionate to her talent, she besmirches the few venues she's managed to trick into believing she's worth turning the camera toward. Like The New York Times.

When good trend stories lead to arrests

I distinctly remember one of the worst days of my teenage life, when a Newsday article ran about my local deli selling alcohol without proofing the buyers. That deli was the lone source of my increasing demand of 40oz. St. Ides, an oasis in the desert of suck called the working class suburbs. The article ran, and the next day, Haziz was asking for my ID. Goddammit journalists! I remember screaming as I walked out with nothing better than a can of Jolt and some Pixie Stix so I could at least get a sugar high.
That was then. When newspapers articles at worst caused the wrongdoer to straighten up and fly right. Now, they can get you tossed in the clink.

So 27East ran a trend piece entitled "Prom Season Brings Wave of Illegal Party Rentals," an expose on the unsupervised droves of teenagers whose desperate to still be considered cool parents allow to rent houses in the Hamptons for post-prom hi jinks.

Guest of a Guest mocked the piece. It was so old fashioned, so square...stupid adults with their stupid curiosity making a silly issue for no stupid reason, the stupid-heads. Besides, the rentals are totes nothing more than answering to supply and demand. Whatta you got against profit, 27East, what are you communists or something?

It was all "laughable" and so mock-worthy. Until the cops showed up. Since the piece ran, four arrests have been made in the Hamptons for violation of the social host law. The first in Eastport, and the second in Remsenberg. In the case of the latter, cops investigated after a kid had to be rushed to the hospital when he started puking up blood. Guest of a Guest could not be immediately reached for comment regarding whether they believe puking up blood to be a bad thing.

What have we learned? Despite the doomed fate of print journalism, you should read the newspaper. Or you may find yourself chained to a metal bar right next to a rapist.

NYTimes profiles most transparent fameball in history

You owe it to yourself to welcome Devorah Rose into your life. If you don't know who she is, well...that upsets her greatly. No outfit to date has put together quite the chronology that Gawker has, about this particularly persistent fameball, but to the uninitiated non-Gawker-reading public, The New York Times has kindly profiled her in the June 8 Sound & Fury Fashion & Style section.

Her trajectory that led her to this nearly 2,000-word profile is torn straight out of the "shotgun blast" approach to fame and success: do everything (writer, actress, model, editor, novelist, reality TV star, casting call hound), be everywhere (Upper East Side, openings at the MoMA, Hamptons in summertime), and sooner or later people will notice you. Despite her multiple forays into every form of camera-chasing possible, alas, she's mostly known as the Editor of Social Life magazine, a glossy Hamptons mag that, similar to Loch Ness, I've only heard about...never actually seen. (And I live out here. Very weird.) Aside from that, she enjoyed a brief splash of small-screen notoriety as the girl who ran out on her spindly legs and tossed her drink at another girl at one of her stupid, self-congratulating pool parties on the one-and-done show High Society.

The profile attempts at objectivity and even a little snark. It calls her out for lying about her 100% involvement in all her cover shoots (apparently Beth Ostrovsky Stern supplied Devorah with this month's cover photo for her silly magazine Social Life)

But all the snark in the world can not rescue the Times from the simple fact that the publication of record, The Gray Lady itself, actually went and profiled the worst person alive this phony, fame-starved asswipe.

Nothing about her is impressive, or entrepreneurial, or even interesting. She's the girl we all knew in high school who did two things: 1. found out where the popular kids hung out. 2. her hair. Now she rubs elbows with the beautiful people and pretends that all the hatred and bad karma that continuously befalls her is merely testament to her importance. It's the grossest case of incestuous legitimacy since Julia Allison. From having enough money to attend fiction writing classes in the extremely-difficult-to-get-into Columbia University MFA program, to meeting her publisher at a museum and blowing him promising him to edit his magazine if he launches one, she's nothing short of every other attractive woman who manages to convince guys to give them what they want. If she were reading this blog post (and she's not) she would stop right here to glory in the fact that I called her "attractive." She's Anna Nicole Smith without the stripper pole. Nothing more.

One of the more poignantly obnoxious moments in the NYT piece? When the reporter asks about her family background, she pulls a celebrity diva act and waves the question off with a hand, stating "I think we can move on." Why the reporter didn't get up and say "I think I'll move on too, to someone who's actually done something and wants to share their story" is beyond me.

So thanks, New York Times. Appreciate the legitimacy you just gave a girl who admittedly was "more interested in Social Life's parties than its content," launched by a guy who started the magazine because he also liked going to parties.

Read the profile yourself. Then wonder if the world didn't really end on May 21, 2011 after all.