Last night Gawker's sister website Gizmodo celebrated its one year anniversary, so they threw a party with Wired magazine. Here's my full report:

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8:20 p.m. The party at Starfoods was billed as 7 to 9. If I arrive any later, I'll actually have missed it. Maybe fashionably late is over? Maybe punctuality is what the kids are doing now? Must query interns.
8:36 p.m. I find the glamorous Gizmodo editor, Pete Rojas, dressed in his official post-Mod/early-Beatles Rojas uniform. We talk for 10 seconds (see picture), then he says, "Excuse me, there's a hot girl over there I totally have to introduce myself to."
8:50 p.m. Someone tells me that a group of Wired copy editors are doing coke in the bathroom. Wired has copy editors now? I try to get close to Wired editor-in-chief Chris Anderson to ask him about that, but he's disappeared... for the bathroom.
9:00 p.m. I get boxed in by nerds Anil Dash, Aaron Bailey, and Entertainment Weekly creator Jeff Jarvis. They are talking about the internet. I pretend to see some imaginary friends and climb over their big geeky heads to escape.
9:15 p.m. I meet a slightly intoxicated gentleman who works closely with Anna Wintour. By twitching my left nostril, I turn on the recording device that Gawker publisher Nick Denton recently had subcutaneously implanted in my face.
9:24 p.m. David Byrne is here. He wants ideas.
9:40 p.m. New York's Elizabeth Spiers rolls in with some armcandy, NY's editor-at-large Simon Dumenco. Elizabeth looks great, she's showing very few signs of her new heroin addiction.
9:50 p.m. The DJ is playing Chicks on Speed. What, is it 2002 all of a sudden? Oh wait: it's the Delta 5 original. Is that supposed to be ironic?
10:10 p.m. Nerve co-founder Rufus Griscom is looking at me like he would never answer my Nerve ad.
10:30 p.m. We're at a dive bar on St. Mark's. The Observer's Eight Day Week girl, Noelle, has laced up her go-go boots for a go-go at the tiny bar.
10:45 p.m. Wow, that girl from Daily Candy can do shots like a champ!
11:25 p.m. Everyone is studiously avoiding talking about books with literary axman Dale Peck.
11:40 p.m. A TV comedy producer tells us the best story ever about Ol' Dirty Bastard saying to her friend that he "wants to make babies in her butt." Druuuunk. Felix Salmon asks me if I'm a "foodie." I'm too horrified to answer.
12:20 a.m. At Stromboli Pizza, the first official Staten Island ferry disaster jokes begin.
Gizmania [Blue Jake]