Hud Morgan, former Gawker staple and Men's Vogue writer known for being a gangster fashionista and getting slapped by Spencer Morgan, has "done it again," so to speak: he appears in this weird video, rapping. Jokey? Semi-joke? Serious-ish? We really can't tell any more.

Don't let the barroom slapfights and gangster garb fool you: Hud Morgan, the Men's Vogue editor turned aspiring screenwriter, can be delightfully helpful. For example, the ex-gossip nearly answered our question, "Is Hud Morgan Begging For His Old Daily News Gig?"

It's no wonder Hud Morgan relished his move from the Daily News to Men's Vogue: "Champagne Easter" parties, fruitinis and Beatrice Inn slapfights become a lifestyle glossy editor. At a gritty tabloid they're embarrassing.

If there were a script called Wet Dreams about a failed Michael Phelps-type, co-written by fruitini-drinkin' Hud Morgan, would you want to buy it? He and his friend hope someone will.

We're guessing Hud Morgan was not among the lucky few to survive the collapse of Men's Vogue; as questionable as his fashion choices have historically been, they have somehow deteriorated further.

Economic meltdown or not, certain nightclubs still seem to be blessed with celebrities who will show up for free drinks, supermodels who will show up for the celebrities, and billionaires who will show up for the supermodels, black Amex cards at the ready. We know this thanks to writer and costume-lover Hud Morgan, who bravely traded his fruitinis for passionfruit shots and infiltrated 1OAK on behalf of Men's Vogue (a scan is after the jump). Illustrating how magazine publishers, too, are defying the recession and financing the posher forms of writerly hobnobbing.

Men's Vogue, launched in 2005, doesn't appear to be doing so well! The magazine has been getting thinner and thinner lately. Fashion mags have always been a reflection of the carefully curated "personal style" of their staff—which is where Men's Vogue writer, former gossip columnist, and jailbait-dater Hud Morgan comes in! Here's a composite of his recent fashion choices (some sent by secret tipsters.) We can only conclude that both Hud and the magazine need a makeover.

It was hard to imagine anything less menacing than Hud Morgan in a bar fight, but a helpful tipster has supplied one: the Men's Vogue writer, dressed we presume as a gangster, at up-and-coming socialite Serena Merriman's fancy dress party, last weekend in Little Compton, Rhode Island. 28-year-old Morgan, a former gossip columnist with the New York Daily News, fancies himself the caddish man about town. For a microsecond, his liaison with a 17-year-old starlet even gave him a touch of credibility. But the fruitini-loving reporter has always been betrayed by his taste in clothes-technicolor sweaters and scarves worn with as much respect for his surroundings as an Olsen in sunglasses, which tend to undermine his masculine charisma. And, here, he's betrayed again.

Style.com wants to tell you who the cool kids are. They've compiled a field guide to "2008's Coolest Cliques" using the following six dubious categories: The New (New) Bohemian, The European Union, The Swans 2.0, The Catwalk Queens and The New Kids on the Blog. Julia Allison is mentioned three times! The whole thing is rather irritatingly in ad-maximizing slideshow form and the commentary is anodyne, so here's a condensed and snarkier version. Buckle in, kids. We'll get through this together.

We told you about Mens Vogue-r Hud Morgan's Champagne-drenched Easter party that rattled his neighbors in the West Village. A tipster described a scene of staggering privilege and hubris, accented by a certain sweater the host was wearing: "horizontally wide-striped, the stripes being in bright primary colors... what a closeted gay rower would wear to a Yale football game. But the best part is that he's wearing a white shirt under it with the collar popped." Now we've got photographic evidence: click to see the infamous sweater, and help us identify the blonde girl who looks like she's arguing with ol' Hud.

Mens Vogue writer (and dater of teenage soap star Leven Rambin) Hud Morgan threw a loud-ass "champagne Easter party" in his West Village brownstone, where the frutini-drinking former gossip columnist lives in a studio somewhere on West 11th Street. One of his neighbors sent us a party report, written in the style of Jay McInerney and disguised as a noise complaint. What kind of people came? "Very very loud people, as if each is trying to make sure that whatever he or she is saying is heard by even those speaking more loudly. They are shouting such things as, 'Who bothers to learn their doorman's name?!?'"

Emily Brill is super sorry she posted Hud Morgan's pissy voicemail on the internet last Monday. The self-promoting socialite says her video of Hud's vaguely threatening call defending his relationship with seventeen year-old Leven Rambin isn't the type of "content I am interested in pursuing as a journalist and goes against the high standards of journalistic integrity I have always tried to hold myself to." Clearly, she's ridiculous and her delusions of being a "journalist" are laughable. On the other hand, I'm posting about this, so I obviously have lower "journalistic" standards then some socialite's blog. Whatever. Emily may talk a good game, but she's not taking the clip off her site. She's going to keep it online because of some nonsense about how "this blog has to represent an honest evolution of me." Hey, Emily. If you're going to be an asshole on the internet, you should at least be real with yourself about it. Trust me, I know about this stuff.

All My Children star Leven Rambin is apparently still dating thin-skinned Men's Vogue writer Hud Morgan, reports to the contrary notwithstanding. And Hud is still trying to threaten anyone who raises questions about his relationship with the 17 year old starlet, albeit in the manner of a fruitini-drinking water polo ogler. His latest stunt was a middle-of-the-night call to dandy magazine designer Gregory Littley, who runs in the same circles as Rambin and apparently aired some healthy "skepticism" about her relationship with older man Morgan. Morgan suggested that Littley air his grievances face to face and came off sounding like he meant that as some kind of threat, albeit a barely credible one. Of course the whole call ended up on the internet, courtesy of Littley friend Emily Brill, the bloggy socialite. But maybe that was the idea. Morgan made the call from Rambin's phone and was sure to say so in his voice mail, thus helping spread the word that, no matter who else Rambin may or may not have recently made out with, she still belongs to Morgan. Video of Morgan's call, and Littley's reaction, after the jump.

What if you defended your honor, and your girlfriend's, and she went off anyway with another guy? Harsh. For the first time ever, I feel a little bad for Hud Morgan of Men's Vogue. Last week, the fruitini-drinking former gossip columnist called out one of his friends for joking about his relationship with a barely legal actress, Leven Rambin of daytime soap All My Children. She wasn't worth it, Hud. First, the Men's Vogue writer was slapped in the face by Spencer Morgan of the New York Observer, the mocking friend, in one of the most public places imaginable, the hottest downtown nightspot, the Beatrice Inn. Now Page Six reports the fickle Rambin, who previously had an affair with Julia Allison's geeky boyfriend, has already moved on. At a party on Saturday night at the Spotted Pig, the "possessed" 17-year-old was spotted making out with hat-wearing music producer, Mark Ronson.

Yesterday's item, on the altercation between two louche gossip columnists at the Beatrice Inn, missed a crucial line of dialogue. After slapping fruitini-drinking jailbait-shagging Hud Morgan of Men's Vogue in the face, the Observer's Spencer Morgan (no relation) explained why he'd held back: "He wasn't worth a punch." The original item is now updated.

This story is so awesome: in part because it centers around Hud Morgan, the scarf-wearing and fruitini-drinking libertine who's dating a barely legal daytime TV actress; but mainly because last night's incident between two journalists at the Beatrice Inn is an echo of the noir New York of vicious gossip columnists and drunken fights over starlets. (If we're playing Sweet Smell Of Success, can I be J.J. Hunsecker, please?)

Anyone witness the hackfight at the West Village nightspot last night between the two Morgans, the New York Observer's Spencer, and scarf-wearing Hud from Men's Vogue? Details, please.

Earlier today I mentioned an NY Post blind item that ran this morning, about a "gossipeuse" (lady gossip columnist) who caught some heat for doing a reality show without her employer's consent. Later on we got a tip that it was Shallon Lester from Rush & Molloy. We managed to get in touch with her and she responded that yes, in fact, she is working on a reality show, but that she totes told her bosses and everything's okay. Phew! But what's the show about?? Could it be like Tabloid Wars, the Bravo reality mess about, uh, well, gossip reporters from the New York Daily News? (Except, maybe, people will watch this one?) Shallon can't say:

Teenaged actress Leven Rambin's latest Page Six Magazine column is clearly designed to terrify competing proto-starlets, at least according to a summary sent in by an email tipster. Rambin said she's putting together a debut album, on which she does at least some rapping. "I have about five careers — soap opera actress, model, singer, fashion designer, writer," Rambin writes. How does she do it all? Powerful friends and, uh, NOT seeking attention.

In a move that may send the space-time fabric of the Manhattan gossip media folding in on itself with apocalyptic results, Leven Rambin, the Julia Allison-connected 17 year-old All My Children actress, love object of Hud Morgan, and proto-starlet of the celebrity-industrial complex, has announced that she will be playing a "Lindsay Lohan-esque character" in an upcoming episode of "Lipstick Jungle." So, "does that mean she's a messy party girl with a coke problem?" wonders Ben Widdicombe. "'Oh yes,' Rambin nodded enthusiastically, and then added: 'The character that is, not me.'" The implications are staggering. A recap, a link to a handy visual aid, and a guide to the key questions we now face, below.