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While the unwashed masses piled into automobiles and legroom-bereft economy airline seats to escape our fair city for the holiday weekend, the industry's distressingly thin stall-monkeys, untalented, less attractive younger sisters, and semifamous, vaguely ethnic television gardeners assembled at the usual spot for the usual night of unremarkable fame-related stuff:

At Spider Club on Friday, hungry bobble heads Lindsey Lohan & Nicole Richie sitting up on the back of their booth for everyone to see, joined by Ashlee Simpson a little later. Christina Aguilera & Jordan Bratman at a table across the room, next to another table where Kimberly Stewart was hanging all over that Puddle of Mudd guy. Some other B-listers cruising around – LeeLee Sobieski, Rachel Lee Cook (waiting patiently in the 500 person girls bathroom line), and the gardener Jesse Metcalf. Good times.

If it weren't theoretically impossible to construct a cuff tight enough to keep Lohan's or Richie's skinny wrists from slipping out, we'd suggest that they were shackled to those Spider Club booths, forced to spend their weekend on display for the shiny-shirt crowd. Maybe the promoters screw the chains directly into their bones, which would probably hold just long enough to get a sufficient amount of Grey Goose into their bloodstreams to kill the impulse to escape to another club up the street.