Beneath that PMC watermark, meet the Harvard family of party promoter Jennifer Rubell and Daniel Kim, plus daughter Stevie, named for Jennifer's late uncle Steve Rubell (the lord of Studio 54). Check the glow in the couple's profile in Harvard alumni slobbermag 02138:

You're still abusing Ritalin for weight-loss purposes? Girl, that shit is so 2006. Get with the program: the horse asthma drug program! Clenbuterol is the drug that Gatecrasher recently "blind"-itemly indicated that Hilary Duff uses to keep her figure trim. It's also what Rachel Zoe was rumored to be dosing her clients with. What is it, exactly? Well, according to the extensive research that we did by typing "Clenbuterol" into Wikipedia . . .

It may be a bad idea to code on heroin, but caffeine gets a four star review from one programmer. If that's the case, Meth Coffee may be just what the coder ordered. The San Francisco-based company promises its coffee will brighten "house chores and cut boredom like a goddamn razor." It's quite a promise considering it's just a plain bag of coffee with a little guarana thrown in there, but the name alone should sell the stimulant to sleepy programmers.

That stands for Students Against Destructive Decisions, just so you know. They're a student group at Long Island City's Academy of American Studies, and they've devised a 'hip' way to get their anti-marijuana message across:

Recently, we came across a Page Six blind item that seemed to us (and a few of you) to be hinting that Angelina Jolie had nostalgically dabbled in smack with an old rock-star pal recently. Today's Page Six shines more light on the subject.

We started to tell you about Andrea Peyser's visit to Whitney Houston's court-ordered clearance sale — the one we got you all jazzed for a couple of weeks ago, remember? — and we just didn't know where to begin. Andrea did, though:

Those few tips we've received today that haven't been about a funny smell have been chastising us for overlooking this blind item in today's Page Six:

Well, besides us and everyone else who matters. If you'll recall, back in the day (well, back in November), we linked to the Daily Intel's story about the "stylishly kitschy" hotspot's possible looming shutdown, which featured an especially adorable denial from owner Guy Jacobson: "I have a license to sell one drug; it's the one behind the bar." Today, however, a tipster alerted us to the fact that the bar, which was featured in yesterday's Styles 'Boite' column, was closed on Friday night, and that a coke bust was the rumored cause. Could a place whose denizens say things like ""I'm an enthusiast and I express myself sensually and I can barely hold myself in . . . I can tell that there's an element of the pulse, of neurotic, erotic perfection" really be a secret purveyor of high-grade snortables? We're scratching our heads and rubbing our noses spastically in confusion.

All those ads about parents being the anti-drug? Yeah, well, there's a reason they didn't work:

Perhaps you decided long ago never to walk in anyone's shadow, but we hope that you made no similar resolution about walking in anyone's Versace beaded catsuit: that item, and many more from recovering cracky Whitney Houston's sometime stage set and wardrobe, are being sold in a court ordered auction in Irvington, NJ next Tuesday. (An eagle-eyed tipster pointed us to an ad for the auction in Sunday's Times Job Market section.) While the catsuit may not be up your alley, there must be something in the lots simply designated 'wardrobe' or 'designer hats' that would suit your fancy. And if you're more interested in gear than tiger print sequin skirts, a vintage Hammond organ and a pair of acrylic grand pianos are also on the block. What does Whitney think of the fact that any Tom, Jamal, or Harry can paw through a pile of her gently-worn D&G snap-crotch bustiers? No one knows. But don't feel too bad for the tarnished songbird: remember, no matter what they take from her, they can't take away her dignity.

In response to the crashing price of heroin versus the increasing luxurification of grass, we asked the few of you bothering to read (or sober enough to understand) what you're paying these days for your junk. A few scattered answers after the jump, ranging from depressing social commentary to unfair aspersions on British character actors.

We've long wondered about some of the special services that some of the city's best hotels might provide "off the menu," if you catch our drift, wink wink nudge nudge. We'd always assumed that the menu consisted of happy endings and the like, but at Leona Helmsley's Park Lane Hotel—where rooms cost up to $480 per night—the options got much more creative. The night manager and another staffer were allegedly supplying special guests (and undercover cops) with guns and cocaine:

Relatively speaking, that is. Buried in this Los Angeles Times article about the prevalence of Afghan heroin is an interesting nugget, as unpacked here — a gram of pure horse sells for $90 in LA. In other words, "That's about a dime per pure milligram, compared with $2.50 a pure milligram in New York during the 'French Connection' days." Given the alarming cost of pot these days, heroin looks attractive not so much as a gateway drug but more as an economical alternative. The War on Terror's losses may also be hurting the War on Drugs by way of winning the War on Drug Prices. So how about it, junkies — how much are you paying for your smack these days? And just because, let us know the same data for cocaine too. Just for completeness's sake. And send us your guy's number too, on background of course.

It's a season of Bests Of, so we're hereby nominating this quote as "Best Publicist Denial 2006." It's from an article in the print edition of this week's Star magazine about "plate parties," at which young Hollywood stars are passing around drug-filled plates (!!) and "popping pills, guzzling booze, smoking reefer and snorting whatever they can get their hands on," according to "one Hollywood producer" who has perhaps seen Beyond the Valley of the Dolls one time too many. Anyway, we admire Zelnick's laziness, so this is our official favorite. It's better than Elliot Mintz's genius assertion that the white stuff in Paris Hilton's nostril was "stray dessert," even! Hats off, Leslie — and here's to more Lohan-enabling in 2007.

Damn, you people know a lot about pot. The flood of tips engendered by our solicitation for expert advice on current spot pricing resulted in a number of e-mails, but our favorite came late in the day:

Today, an article in the Post indicated that marijuana procured from the crime syndicate headed up by recently nabbed (jeez, "nabbed"? We need to go on a Post diet) "diamond-studded, bling-wearing" kingpin Orlando Torres was the most costly ever at $560 per ounce. Hmm. We're too high on schwag to figure out whether this is actually true, but we figure that someone out there reading this is a big pothead who likes the fancy stuff (you know, maybe). So let us know. If it turns out that the Post is wrong about something, we give up on the whole Santa = real thing too.
Update: Omg, the Post was wrong!

The better question is, "What kind of drugs?" Compared to New York, L.A, or D.C. the Valley is low on coke-addled dealmakers, drunk bosses, and celebrity rehab cases. But there's a decent chance some of the hardware and software you're using right now was conceived, and maybe implemented, by a big brain with a buzz on.San Francisco, the epicenter of 1960's counterculture, was made over by pot-smoking progressives. Down in Silicon Valley, the budding high tech industry fostered a different kind of hippie: The pot-smoking libertarian. In his recent book What the Dormouse Said, veteran New York Times journalist John Markoff reports that some of the Valley's original innovations - what if everyone had a computer! And we were all hooked together! - were thought up by inventors who were high at the time. Markoff says Steve Jobs once told him that "taking LSD was one of the two or three most important things he had done in his life." Separately, Jobs once suggested Bill Gates should've tried the stuff. Gates, in a Playboy interview, tacitly acknowledged that he had. At the dawn of the Internet boom, Wired magazine's day-glo digital revolution pamphlet was preceeded by a similarly shiny mag called Mondo 2000, which mixed the same personal technology and global networking themes with creative chemical use. What about today? "Some people experiment with interesting drugs, most people don't, and there's not that much peer pressure any more either way," former Mondo editor RU Sirius told SVUG. "Most people don't fuss about it and it doesn't tend to become as big a part of people's identities as it was for those of us who were young in the 60s and 70s." These "interesting drugs" include:

Yesterday was Meth Appreciation — sorry, 'Awareness' — Day, and the Post and Daily News are celebrating today with stories about Citigroup exec Michael Knibb, who transformed his $6,000/month penthouse into a "sophisticated" meth lab. That's a picture of the classy setup on the right. It got us to thinking — what crank-addled friend of Tina couldn't use a few new decanters and vases that double as meth-brewin' vessels this holiday season? Well, since we're not afraid to be servicey, we thought we'd suggest a few.

It's catnip. It's crack. It's the best, and I cannot wait.

Before we show these photos of the founder of what became Macromedia (the creators of Flash, which powers games like these) — before we show photos of the alleged pot fiend smoking a joint, we'd like to note that photographer Dave Winer, who just uploaded them to Flickr, labels them as "A sequence of photos taken in a coffee shop in Amsterdam in February 2000." Even if all the signs in the background are in English.