I didn't think it was possible to make Gawker meaner yet funnier, but Choire Sicha somehow managed to do it. This will not be the last you hear of him.

But for the moment, I'm back from pseudo-vacation, which I spent doing the following:
· Putting the September issue of Vogue on eBay under "furniture." Being a liberal-artsy type, I don't have a scale or a ruler, but I'd guess that it weighs approximately 38.9 pounds and is approximately 24.2 inches thick. It'd make a lovely coffee table.
· Trying to decide which requires more suspension of disbelief: last night's Sex and the City (filmed at Soho House, no less) or certain scenes from "Collateral Damage," the Arnold Schwartzenegger flick playing on another channel shortly afterwards. Collateral Damage: Sure, Arnie plays a fireman who destroys two Colombian terrorists in a gas explosionit's ironic, because he's, like, a fireman. The terrorists' cherubic young non-English-speaking son runs into Ah-nold's steroid distended arms afterwards, having decided that Arnie would make a better fathersix-year-olds being that perceptive. (Maccers: "No habla Ingles, but he sure loves his new daddy!") SATC: Well, all of it. Geri Halliwell's character runs into "Samantha" in the street and starts blubbering that Soho House is fabulous, darling, and you must, MUST go. As if anyone blubbering in the street that Soho House was fabulous would be let into to Soho House. Soho House is like Fight Club. The first rule of Soho House is, no one talks about Soho House. Or at least not in a hyperbolic, fawning way that would, in print, demand the use of exclamation marks. Then there's Miranda's porn star sex scene with Blair Underwood's character that happened spontaneously, yet she's in full lingerie... These are the things I think about while on pseudo-vacation.
· Absentmindedly wrote "Mrs. Vincent Gallo" on handy scraps of paper.
· Read celebrity blogs. Kim Jong Il's blog, to be specific.
· Alright, the Gallo thing was bullshit. I just made that up.

Back to your regularly scheduled Gawker,
Elizabeth Spiers