Lord & Taylor's invite to Paris Hilton's perfume launch today (on their 2nd floor from 1-2pm) features a long ode to the heiress that ends with, "Now you have the opportunity to share a bit of the magic that is Paris Hilton. Find out what it smells like to a be a Star."
Oh, I think we can guess what it smells like. And our inner copy editor noted that they mistakenly added an extra "a" in that last sentence.
This is your captain speaking (aka Gawker guest editor Noelle Hancock). Just wanted to say that on Monday when I asked for readers to send in constructive criticism, that was really a courtesy more than anything else—you know, to make you feel a part of things? Truthfully, I m really not interested. In fact, there s a sticker on the back of my laptop that reads: "How's my blogging? Dial 1-800 EAT-SHIT.
Happy Women Kissing Each Other on TV Month, everybody!
Beware, pet lovers: The webcams at Paradise Ranch are apparently equipped with death rays. Watching your dog while it's kenneled may result in a canine tragedy.
Residents of Los Angeles, let us introduce you to Paradise Ranch, a local pet-pampering resort "so exclusive, it doesn't accept people." The Ranch will pick up your delightfully spoiled pup in the Mercedes Mutt Cab (pictured at right), a vehicle exclusively for ferrying the shih-tzu in your life to and from this canine Xanadu in air-conditioned comfort, with nary a rolled-up newspaper in sight to mete out punishment for pooping on the seat. Really, we could get lost for days on their website, but make sure your visit includes the "boarding" page, where the Ranch cheerily declares, "We sleep with dogs." Does the pampering ever stop?
· The internet is so, like, egalitarian! The Plug Independent Music Awards, held tonight at Webster Hall, let you, blogger/procrastinator/online gambling addict, decide who the top acts in indie music are. RJD2, Aesop Rock, Sufjan Stevens, and Ted Leo are among the acts scheduled to perform. [TicketWeb]
It s a very-Corey day here at Gawker! This Friday on 20/20, Corey Feldman reflects on his childhood friendship with Michael Jackson and thinks, Maybe that wasn t a Popsicle? Things like this are the reason we get up in the morning, people:
What if you were New York's newest 'It' Girl, but you weren't alive anymore to enjoy it?
You know it's almost Valentine's Day when even the icy wits at The Onion go all soft and mushy and offer an "all-expenses paid trip to the abortion clinic of the bearer's choice."
In life, you have to take the bad with the good. Like getting to go down that gigantic yellow slide after your airplane crashes. That is our lesson for the day as we turn to page 141 in Anna Wintour's unauthorized biography, Front Row. Read on and learn about a time when the Vogue editor's life was not-so-glossy:
· New Yorker head honcho David Remnick discusses his magazine's past, present, and future at the General Society Building tonight. The description says, "Editor since 1998, David Remnick has firmly steered the course of the magazine into the 21st century." We thought it said "corpse" at first. [General Society]
Sightings are sent in by readers; send yours to tips@gawker.com.
