[Submit your own Gawker Stalker sightings to stalker@gawker.com] Feb. 4 @ 12:30pm Eating at Trattoria Dell'Arte and in walks Jack Bauer to save the day.

Are you a weary office drone who chokes down a dry, overpriced sandwich from the local deli in front of your computer every day, wishing that you could take a full hour to relax and eat some quality food for once in your miserable life? Well the ConAgra corporation feels your pain! And in order to help you they've enlisted someone you, the little people, can look up to: Ivanka Trump. She is using a modern "blog" to reach all the depressed, overworked potential ConAgra lunch customers! It all began last week, when Ivanka, daughter of The Donald and main squeeze of The Jared Kushner, informed the public via some blog that she would soon be setting up a "lunch trade" to revitalize your boring existence:

Hey, the New York Sun is dead. Sad! It was a newspaper, and we all love newspapers. Their editorial stance was despicable, but they had a great sports section. We've been through all this already. No point in dredging up old fights. But! There are still stories about Sun founder and editor Seth Lipsky that are maybe worth your attention. Like did you know he stole everyone's lunch?

Here's the menu for lunch at the New York Times cafeteria today. The theme? "Take Me Out To The Ball Game!" Which means hot dogs. Only hot dogs. They represent our nation. Or, as the Times puts it, "Hot Dogs As America." We don't really know what that means. Click to enlarge the menu!

So many PR tactics are shrouded in secrecy: off-the-record briefings, front groups, "file sharing." And lots of things that PR firms get paid a lot of money to do—devise corny slogans, make pretty marketing materials that get ignored, or think up new and creative ways to say "no comment"—are really big wastes of money. There is only one real live PR tactic that consistently works. It is maddeningly effective at getting reporters to like flacks, and by extension, their awful clients. Even the ones who know better! It preys on human instinct. It's called lunch.

One would assume just from the blog's name that "Midtown Lunch" is entirely empty, like those blank-paged books entitled "German Humor." Yet the ML blogger makes a good-faith attempt to locate and even consume lunch in midtown Manhattan, whereas most midtown dwellers are content with their rations of soup, salad, and shit on a shingle. And even though the blogger cheerfully admits that midtown is a culinary wasteland, he nevertheless embarks on hellish excursions like "Falafel Week." Which is immediately followed by "Constipation Weekend."