Those who feel that potty-mouthed oil heir/goodwill ambassador to Hollywood nightclubs Brandon Davis' media caning following his instant-classic Shitfaced Firecrotch Diatribe was not sufficient punishment for his pube-denigrating transgressions will be delighted by the following NY Observer report, in which Davis returned to the scene of his crime and was promptly issued the clubmonkey equivalent of being publicly urinated upon:

If you've put off trying to infiltrate Hyde, the current hottest and most exclusive celebrity-jammed glory hole in all of Hollywood, for fear of winding up collateral damage in a hair-yanking disagreement between Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton, it might be time to take the risk. Especially if you're trying to "make it in the business," as Rush & Molloy report that the club's clientele now officially includes high-profile producer types out trolling for tail:

TMZ.com's unquestioned dominance of the sidewalks outside of various Hollywood drinking establishments has finally yielded new footage advancing the storyline of the Shitfaced Brandon Davis Firecrotch Diatribe affair, as the website's egress-haunting videographers caught Lindsay Lohan at Shag the other night, shouting, "Did you see the video?" as she exited the new club. Lohan wisely refrained from answering in the affirmative or rebutting Davis's earlier, drunken denoucement of her shockingly meager $7 million personal worth as she fled for the safety of her automobile, where, thankfully, no TMZ camera crew was waiting to ask her, "But what about the firecrotch, Lindsay? Are you red down there?" a query they are no doubt saving for their next encounter in front of Privilege later this week.

Even without a venue in which she can adequately ply her celebrity-pampering trade, temporarily clubless nightlife queen-in-exile Amanda Scheer Demme name is still making frequent appearances in the gossip sheets. (And, occasionally, in the NY Times) Today's Page Six keeps her personal brand alive with an update from Demmeland:

Perhaps inspired by Paula Abdul's alleged agent-inflicted attack at one of its recent events, the LAT ventures out to floating party Xenii (a mere seven months after the NY Times dropped by, but who's counting?) to see what all the cool kids are up to these days. For those too unfashionable to have heard of Xenii, it's an exclusive, semisecretive, members-only, Entourage-meets-Warhol's-Factory, traveling after-hours gathering where guys pay dues for the privilege of hanging around with beautiful women and celebrities without being stungunned by their bodyguards. Still not getting it? Here's a sample of what a man's $650 to $4,500 monthly membership gets him, courtesy of the Times:

TMZ.com's paparazzi video of Jeremy Piven carrying an incapacitated woman on the sidewalk outside of new club Shag might look like the actor merely dropped by for some take-out, but such misunderstandings are why publicists have jobs:

From the MySpace event listing featuring the above invite:

The NY Times' Sharon Waxman traveled deep into Amanda Scheer Demme's Fortress of Velvet Rope Solitude (tragically located in unfashionable Studio City) in an attempt to sort out why the temporarily clubless nightlife queen-in-exile was cast out of the celebrity-fellating Eden she so lovingly created at the Roosevelt Hotel, and to learn a little about the woman behind the clipboard-wielding legend:

We hate to think we'd left you in a state of suspense regarding Amanda Scheer Demme's various nightlife interests after yesterday's post about her alleged shitcanning by her bosses at the Roosevelt Hotel. Both TMZ and Page Six have updates about Demme's fate, which her reps are spinning as a "buyout" (which seems technically true, since we assume it would cost the hotel some cash to tear up her contract). Says TMZ:

Is Amanda Scheer Demme's reign of celebrity-fellating terror about to end at the Roosevelt Hotel? Today's Page Six reports that the Roosevelt's owners are trying to tear up her contract to operate the poolside Tropicana Bar and her personal Batcave of exclusivity, Teddy's, due to clashes with the city and before a potentially damaging Rolling Stone profile hits the streets:

TMZ.com's web-enabled stalkerazzi have continued their crusade against the scourge of underage drinking at clubs in Hollywood Boulevard's storied Morality Corridor, capturing video of a bust at celeb-infested boozehole Mood late last night while trolling for evidence of the sub-21 celebrity set entering the bar. They did get footage of 19-year-old, famous-esque Laguna Beach personality Kristin Cavallari, as well as some of a 17-year-old (pictured at left) being led away in handcuffs for sneaking into the club with fake ID. Reports TMZ:

The web-enabled stalkerazzi at TMZ.com staked out Hollywood Boulevard, and after untold man-hours spent monitoring the comings and going of clubgoers, have finally blown the lid off one of the nightlife industry's dirtiest and best-kept secrets: Underage celebrities frequent establishments where alcohol is served. In addition to a (shocking!) photo of 18-year-old Jesse McCartney clutching a Corona (likely alcohol content: 4.5 percent), the site has (jaw-dropping!) video of some of your favorite teen stars brazenly patronizing bars:

Our pals at the LA.comfidential blog caught up with That 70s Show star Danny Masterson yesterday and discussed the local nightclub staple's new role as Los Angeles' cultural savior:

This is all we know about the above pics, courtesy of the JJB message board: "Paris Hilton and Bijou Philips leaving club Mood in Hollywood in the middle of a fight between a paparazzo and a security. Paris was not injured." She was, however, incredibly turned on.

HotelChatter may have some anecdotal evidence that Amanda Scheer Demme's Tropicana Bar might soon be slipping from the top of the celebrity-fellating nightspot heap:

Sure, we've lost hours quietly pouring over the Tropicana Bar's proprieter/celebrity hottness calibration technician Amanda Scheer Demme's 600-word "mini-biography" on IMDb, but no matter how many times we've silently savored the words "Lifestyle Producer," we've always been left wishing that we knew more about the woman behind the Trop's iron rope. Yesterday's San Francisco Chronicle fed us 1,900 more words on nightlife's most fascinating personality; of those nearly two thousand bits of Demme-related wisdom,, at least twenty-nine were dedicated to letting us know about her criminally overlooked "soft side":

For those cutting-edge Hollywood scenesters who find that the Tropicana Bar isn't exclusive and/or sufficiently A-lister-fellating enough for their tastes, local nightlife despot Amanda Scheer Demme will soon offer a solution at the Roosevelt Hotel. Our friends at LA.com explain:

They can have their Bruce Willises, their Lindsay Lohans, and their fainting Courtney Loves at the Tropicana Bar, but last Friday, the Vine Street Lounge had Principal Fucking Belding.

Who knew that local Fairfax Avenue watering hole The Dime had a Shirley Temple night? A couple of Defamer spies spotted decidedly underage (yet bar-omnipresent) starlets Lindsay Lohan and Mischa Barton there on Friday night, and one of them had an ear pricked up, capturing this paradoxically fascinating/inane moment of conversation:

A living, breathing, pulsating incarnation of its incredibly well-chosen name, Rokbar has both rock music and a bar. But what really sets Hollywood's new rock-n-roll-playing-space-that-serves-alcohol apart from other local watering holes partial to the loud playback of AC/DC is the involvement of celebrities like rock-star investor/cultivator of scary facial hair/visionary Dave Navarro. The LAT gets hell bent for leather: