We understand that the sightings provided to the Post's Gawker Stalker feature are submitted by readers; we were unaware that they were presented unedited. Nice job, folks!

"All satire is blind to the forces liberated by decay. Which is why total decay has absorbed the forces of satire." — Theodor Adorno
Dear Andrea,
We understand why you found it irresistibly tempting to lampoon poor Lindsay Lohan's rambling, cokey missive in your column today. But in doing so, you learned something that we've known for a while: some things are so over the top, so inherently comedic, that they defy the satirist to make anything more of them than they already are. Don't get us wrong: we're not saying that we never make the mistake you made. We make it all the time! But when we do, we employ a couple of tactics that keep our posts from coming off as (quite) as hamhanded and dashed-off as your column. Here's an example of where you went wrong:

Well, sure, if your idea of the best show on earth is a snuff film.

As the hours tick by, more evidence of Andrea Peyser's not-so-hidden drinking problem is piling up. If you read yesterday's column about Barack Obama, you may have read that the senator from Illinois "is a rock star with a megawatt smile who admits he inhaled." Or, you may have learned that "Barack Obama, the presidential contender with the 'Say What?' name and megawatt smile, came out last night to electrify New York. He stuck his finger in the socket instead." Hmm. How confusing! Does she love Barack Obama, or does she hate him?

Here's this morning's Liz Smith review of Dreamgirls:

Nutty Post scourge Andrea Peyser's column today about Russell Simmons' icky endorsement of the diamond mining industry, which he calls "99 3/4%" clean, seems unusually . . . inspired. Seriously, you have to respect a writer who can continually froth with outrage and also come up with turns of phrase like this one:

You know that song "I'm Every Woman?" We were mulling this over in the shower, and we were thinking that Britney Spears is, in her retarded way, Every Celebrity. During the course of her career, she's actually tried to nail every single dumb famous-person archetype of the 21st century: the virgin-whore ingenue, the Reesey young wife and mom, and now the LA club-scene vagina-flashing coke slut. So when we're presented with a handful of blind (or, since they're Post-y, mildly astigmatic) items, it's less a matter of figuring out which one is Britney and more a matter of trying to think of a reason that they wouldn't all be about Britney. To wit:

You may think that Kimora Lee Simmons is just a dumb model — who's (sorta) married to a mogul — who found some unusually canny people to run a business for her. And you'd be totally correct.

Via Jim Romenesko, we note the following:

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.

Read the caption and then look at the size of the phone that businessman was talking on "yesterday." Um, what? Is that a special magical phone that can call 1997? Our suspicions (and, okay, the suspicions of a tipster) led us to take a quick spin through Getty Images, which is what we use when Google Images can't help us find a photo of, say, "shit on a wall," and, well, lookee here.

Remember the battle against "alien predators" that protestors were planning to wage in the wake of indie actress Adrienne Shelly's tragic murder? Today, Andrea Peyser upgrades the situation to an "alien war." Grab your rayguns!

In response to recent census figures that show a whopping twenty-five per cent of New Yorkers speak Spanish, the Post trots out Sandra Guzman to offer some celebratory thoughts:

Socialtwat Fabiola Beracasa, who goes out all the time to raise the profile of — sorry, what 'job' does she pretend to do again? — is quoted in today's NYO investigation of who's behind Socialite Rank (ever, ever so much more on that later) about what, in her informed opinion, keeps the eyes of the world so riveted to the antics of rich idiots like herself:

Maybe we're missing something here. Adrienne Shelly was in, like, Hal Hartley movies, not . . . oh. Oh, the article is about a protest by activists who maintain that "[Shelly's] death could have been avoided if the United States stringently enforced its immigration laws to stop human smuggling and the hiring of illegal workers." We don't know what's more awful, those assholes or the headline that conjures up images of Saana Lathan trapped in a space-creature's dripping jaws. Or us for pointing it out. A three-way tie, we suppose.

Alien 'Predators' [NYPost]

• GO FOR IT, BORAT
  

Today's Page Six takes a stand against the creeping commercialization of public spaces in New York while chastising a news organization for unseemly gloating. Under the hed "Desperate Sign," the Sixers report that:

Food blog Eater is all riled up today over an article in the Post about Cafe Gray's $833 Macy's Parade watching prix fixe menu. "Instead of gray the line [sic unless it's a pun we're not getting] between advertisement and editorial, the Post has gone ahead and eliminated it" by publishing an article where every luxe foodstuff on the menu is described in detail, along with a sidebar featuring the menu itself, Eater claims. Frankly, we're shocked, shocked that an august publication like the Post would sully its sterling . . . oh, whatever.

• News headline disappointingly misleading. [NYDN]
  

Bless her little heart, that thoughtful Andrea Peyser is standing up for our right to finally find out who killed Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman. "Almost alone," with only the backing of a major media conglomerate behind her, Andrea had defended "media punching bag" Judith Regan from the slings and arrows of her unjust attackers, who were obvs driven by "petty jealousy." But alas, her efforts have come to naught! The show and book have been shelved, and now we won't ever have any idea who committed those murders.
Wait a minute. What's that you say? You feel reasonably sure that you already know the killer's identity? Ha, ohhhkay, Mr. Jumpin' to Conclusions! Andrea Peyser would prefer to withhold her judgment until she's had a chance to view a lucrative sweeps-week televised interview with the accused, and she's not the only one: