Gawker Stalker sightings are submitted by readers. Send yours here.

· Former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger's dog Abigail tripped and nearly killed his wife last weekend. Dogs, like children, learn from their environments: this is surely Abigail's warmup for a global campaign of mass murder. [NY Daily News]
· The media hobnobbing at Michael's is absolutely out of control. Don't these people ever work through lunch like the rest of us? Due to total press saturation, yesterday's lunch crowd at Michael's merits its very own NY Post item; New York's Michael Wolff and CNN's Margaret Carlson prepping for their panel at the Foreign Press Center, Tina Brown and Radar's Maer Roshan having girltalk, and Ellen Levine, who the Post seems to (incorrectly) think has left Good Housekeeping for Ladies' Home Journal. [NYPost]
· "Another tragic heroine in the news, Maria Shriver, is starting to resemble a Georgia O'Keeffe cow skull, and I say that with deep concern. Has marriage to such an exacting Terminazi (who survived all the last-minute slimings mainly because they made Gray Davis look even worse) caused her to starve, not only for attention but for actual food?" [Michael Musto]

Does Gotham mag publisher Jason Binn and Haley Lieberman's engagement invitation really say "No Gifts Please"? We hope that doesn't hold for the December wedding itself, as there are many sweet items still unclaimed on their Tiffany & Co. registry. Wow, 2800 bucks worth of menorah! Given that hannukah celebrates a miracle in the face of poverty, that's some serious festival of lights irony.
Binn/Lieberman Registry [Tiffany & Co.]
Binn/Lieberman Registry [Bloomingdale's]
Binn/Lieberman Registry [Williams-Sonoma]

Jason Binn, inevitably referred to as the "baby-faced" publisher of Gotham, LA Confidential, and Hamptons, is having his engagement party this Thursday. (RSVP by tonight, kids!) The golden boy of high society is finally taking the big plunge, and the very rich have never felt more romantic.

1. The funniest ESL teaching exercise/tongue-twister ever.

· ABC Family Network President Angela Shapiro may be over and out, and the $6 billion dollar network has "missed all of its financial targets this year, by a lot," the Post's sources say. Tonight on ABC Family at 8 p.m.: 1995's The Face on the Milk Carton: "A teen recognizes the missing child on a milk-carton photo as her own," starring Jill Clayburgh and Richard Masur (You may remember Masur for his work as a mentally retarded stockboy on All in the Family.) [NY Post]
· Is Chelsea Clinton a troubled lover? Allegedly, and I'm really emphasizing the word allegedly here, people, her young boyfriend Ian Klaus was spotted venting about their love in the Meatpacking District. The Daily News spy reports this conversation: "He said, 'I love her, but I hate her.' One of his friends said, 'No, man, you love her.'" Then they popped open a couple of Michelobs and had a real heart to heart while sides of swinging beef glinted in the moonlight.
· PeopleNews reports: "David Blaine's man-breasts have gone." [People News]

Another on-the-town Elizabeth Spiers sighting. If grammar is to be believed, this one also from a drunken observer. Question: do only the drunk see this Elizabeth Spiers? CC says: "On Saturday night, in a tiny club in Williamsburg, CC looked over and saw the dimunative Elizabeth Spiers standing there in the crowd. The former editor of Gawker is now writing a blog for New York magazine, the Kicker which we've been enjoying. A very nice woman sporting a pixie haircut and knee high boots, CC enjoyed chatted with her for a few minutes about how she needs to keep needling the media establishment even though now she's technically a part of it. She also introduced CC to Neal Pollack, the Austin-based writer who was in town promoting his new book and who we'd just been watching perform at Luxx. [More on our impressions of Pollack later this week.] We think he was drunk. A good night all in all in the capital of all things hip in America."

Since I'm "nearly 30," I worry that I might be out of touch with what Manhattan's youth culture is all about these days. To ensure that I'm, like, down with it, I've asked our long-suffering intern Lindsay to file regular reports about her weekends. Here's her first report:

· Professional Queer Kyan Douglas loses his shit at the grand opening of a clothing store, screaming "Get the fucking press out of here!" after the media invaded the VIP area. He should be careful; if he's not photographed often enough, he won't exist. [NY Mag]
· Raelians agree to clone Rodney Dangerfield for free. Call Janet Reno: it's time for another Waco, stat! [NY Post]

This week's mail was wildly entertaining. You people are really troubled. Some selected tidbits:

After this week's election, I feel too much pity for L.A. to really hate on it. From now on, Boston is the new Los Angeles. (Washington D.C. will be the new San Francisco — we'll get to that later.) The Black Table's Amy Blair feels the same way, using her weekly Craigslist report to torture Red Sox fans:

RIP: Lafayette/Houston Yahoo Sign [Henry Junior]

Gawker Stalker sightings are submitted by readers. Send yours here.

I don't think we should ever consider the epistemological here at Gawker — wherever would we stop? — but sometimes I must ask myself things. For instance: What is Gossip? And similarly: What is Not Gossip?

I've been predicting a big flop for Britney's upcoming album for a while now. I didn't, however, think to suggest that she'll start cracking from the pressure. From today's Popbitch newsletter:

After the horror of yesterday's Times' sentimental pro-Red Sox editorial, something kept trying to rise past the psychedelic filmy layer of prescribed pharmaceuticals that keeps serious information from entering or leaving my brain. But my hardy brain persevered, and this is what that oh-so important thought bubble wanted to express: "Hey! Who owns the Red Sox?"

We're getting through new Daily News gossip-guy Lloyd Grove's second week. Let's peek under his hood!

I'd planned on doing a pretty serious hatchetjob on the Village Voice's Best of New York 2003 issue. The issue has its ups and downs but mostly it just made me want to nap.

Trends are so confusing. I've invented a four-part guide to what's acceptable and unacceptable in Manhattan today. Obey me. Also, you're so welcome.

When animals attack, we should spend less time laughing at the victims and more time learning why some people are mauled by tigers and some aren't. Really, why Roy? Why not me? Surely there must be something that sets us apart, some reason why he lingers near death by tiger and I do not.