Fake Beyonc , you're our hero:

Nothing puts us in a better Thursday morning mood than a New York dating horror story where both sexes come off looking petty, cheap, and petty. To wit, from "an email making the rounds," a first person account by a "gentleman" who vowed never to pay for a first date again. He claims to have spent $14,000 on (apparently unsuccessful) dates in FY 2004:

For reasons that are still not entirely clear to us (although the idea of free booze probably figures prominently), we decided to take a friend up on their offer to assist us in "getting on the list" for last night's Sony PSP party (which we described yesterday as "Sony's Secret C-List Show," a tidbit that would become painfully ironic). The short version: Only bad things happen when Defamer tries to leave the house. The slightly longer version follows, presented in this special photo essay in three acts...

Combining the best elements of the Fox News Cafe's flair for promotional cuisine and the Sony commissary's talent for compellingly written (if grammatically suspect) signage, we think that ABC's Burbank cafeteria is a real up-an-comer in the suddenly meaningful plastic-tray dining space. Keep an eye on these kids, they're goin' places!

This week's Hollywood Momentum, which is quickly cementing its status as the Redbook of the segment of the industry that wears headsets and dodges blunt objects tossed by angry bosses, presents another "Screamer" worthy of knowing nods from the abused:

Little Miss Lohan, surely on break from rehearsals for this weekend's spectacular episode of Saturday Night Live, loves to stare forlornly at the food in Dean & DeLuca. But can the coffee shop be trusted to protect Lindsay while she remembers the good ol' days, when coffee was more than just a trusted diuretic? NewYorkology says yes:

· Put on your Ivy League hoodie (unless you went to Cornell) and head over to the Oxonian Society, where Tina Brown waxes poetically on tripling the circulation of Vanity Fair, doubling that of the New Yorker, and giving Henry the Intern a chance to regain some semblance of sanity. [Oxonian]
· John Lurie ("What Do You Know About Music, You're Not a Lawyer") and Rick Moody ("Ice Storm," "Dale Peck's Bitch") take part in the latest installment of the Happy Ending reading series. If you can't take Moody's pretentious ramblings, make sure to follow host Amanda Stern's sage advice: get drunk and go home with somebody. [Amanda Stern]
· Radioactive Man, aka Keith Tenniswood, mans the decks at Canal Room tonight — Hazmat suit and all. [flavorpill]

We pause from our nonstop coverage of the upfronts to do our part to foster the kind of special love that begins in an anonymous Craigslist post and ends in a job as a series regular:

The Times reports on Mayor Mike s first wave of advertising, all in Spanish:

Television is just becoming increasingly fascinating, isn't it? In between intellectually stimulating fare like Blue Collar TV and Everwood, it's a wonder that The WB could squeeze in even more top-notch programming for its stunning upfront presentation. Thank you, Baby Jesus!

A few weeks ago, we pointed out a ridiculous interview with Paris Hilton, in which she said, "I don t really read anything on the Internet except my AOL mail. I don t like people who sit on computers all day long and write about people they don t know anything about." But, as always, there's more.

· Comedian Andy Dick, who's more famous for barfing about town, reportedly got greedy with the upfront swag at the Lucky/Cargo free-for-all. Lindsay Lohan, however, behaved herself, probably because they weren't offering what she "needed." [Lowdown]
· The latest Apprentice "winner," Kelly Perdew, causes a Lara Flynn Boyle-worthy scene on a recent flight, where he reportedly threw a drunken fit. When he asked, "Do you know who I am?" his fellow passengers shook their heads in confusion and went back to sleep. [Page Six]
· Tina Brown throws a party for Candace Bushnell's latest book Lipstick Jungle, where guests all drew their evil power from freebie bottles of Creme de la Mer. [R&M (3rd item)]
· Can money repair the tattered friendship of Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton? Not even $100k per episode raise is enough to make Paris that good of an actress. [Scoop (last item)]

Speaking of sending hate mail about our Radar blather, please feel free to include other suggestions for our Adderall-deprived skulls. In particular, we enjoy missives filled with libel, half-truths, and full-on-lies. (Or perhaps one that is completely true, but requires, uh, reporting.) A good example comes from a tipster who seems to have had enough of Maer's magazine:

Since y'all are probably returning home from last night's coke-infested binge about now, we'll start the morning off with some mildy offensive cultural insights about "clubbing." Our current (and perhaps only) favorite bouncer/grad student/blogger describes the most horrifying stage in the metamorphis of a "hot" New York City club:

Nick Denton may be the most degenerate man to ever feed us, but he's hardly so cruel as to send a pregnant woman to live-blog the television upfronts AND talk to Jeff Zucker. Thankfully, a Very Special Gawker Reader sent us a play-by-play of NBC's upfronts at Radio City, complete with a live performance by Tina Fey and Amy Poehler with lots of cutesy inside jokes. Aren't you sad you missed it? Don't be. After the jump, our correspondent tells you all about Dennis Hopper (in sailor clothes!), Eric McCormack (so straight he's, um, chain-smoking!), and Jerry Bruckheimer's (doesn't like to be touched!) Big Apple adventure.

Our pals over at LA.com have spilled the beans about a secret Interpol show in Hollywood, where Sony will herd the few celebs who couldn't afford a plane ticket to France into a club to celebrate their video game endeavors. Since we weren't invited (no matter how many times we say that, no one ever gets the hint!), maybe you'll have better luck crashing and fighting some C-lister for the last crab cake:

· Chicago's the Changes feature the percolating guitars of Andy Summers, the jazzy rhythms of Sea and Cake, and the reverb feedback of Pavement. Wow — this whole music critic thing is pretty easy when you just copy what other people write. Rothko, 9pm. [flavorpill]
· Gothamist throws a funny party at Tonic tonight featuring Paul Scheer from Best Week Ever, Rob Huebel (also known as "Inconsiderate Cell Phone Guy"), and a whole lot o' bloggers. Hilarity ensues, mostly because of the latter. [Tonic]
· And if those bloggers aren't funny enough, check out the WYSIWYG talent show at PS 122, where Martha Burzynski, PJ Gallagher, and host of others read. Out loud. Presumably for the very first time. [PS122]

Come on, admit it, you always thought that Zack Morris would be the one reduced to hosting amateur dog shows:

Sightings are sent in by readers (and, we suspect, substance-abusing publicists). Send yours to tips@gawker.com.

In an attempt to avoid another Spiegel-type ambush and resulting public relations disaster, Tom Cruise recently invited a magazine writer for a private tour of the Scientology mothership, where burly "answer techs" might help the star address potentially pointed questions about his religion. From today's Page Six: