Since Lloyd Grove left his gossip post at the Daily News late last year, he's been bouncing around various offices in New York as a freelancer. In fact, he might be sitting next to you right now! Look to your left—now look right? Is that Lloyd Grove? While through his prosody Mr. Lloyd is known to millions, in the flesh he might pass unnoticed, appearing to merely be any number of undistinguished and fleshy middle-aged white men. To let your proximity to greatness pass by without knowing would be to squander your one true brush with the immortal. To prevent that agony, we've assembled this helpful video from some old footage we found by the crapper.

If you're anything like the average secularish Jew, right about now you're thinking, "Jesus Christ, it's Passover." If you're sederless, you have a couple of options. You can go to the 92nd street Y but it's $90 and Andrew Krucoff will probably be there. You can find a Craigslist seder. Or, you can make your own Seder plate and sit at home on Monday night watching "The Black Donnellys" and wishing "Studio 60" wasn't cancelled.

Radar recently moved to new offices in Turtle Bay: 216 E. 45th Street, 6th Floor. The mag's staff of consumers and thinkers and arbiters must adapt to their new home quickly if they are to do their best work. Lucky for them, Turtle Bay is full of places to contemplate the friability of human endeavor, the likely impermanence of one's employment, and how one might have gone from studying Joyce at Sarah Lawrence to writing about codpieces. Here's a helpful guide!

Eater's Digest is an occasional guide to food events, edible "happenings" and, when we stumble upon it, free booze.

A few months ago, J. Crew opened a couple stores under the Madewell name; the clothes are simple (some might say, a little boring), and not quite as preppy as the parent company. And there are no stores in New York, which means New Yorkers automatically think the brand is much more exclusive and interesting than it actually is. At least, that's what we gathered after reading the rather breathless writeup on New York's website yesterday, which trumpeted the fact that Uma Thurman had stopped by the "secret" temporary location "near Astor Place"!

Like the rest of you, we've been deeply disturbed by the recent controversy concerning Kenneth Eng's infamous "I Hate Blacks" column. (Eng was dismissed from his position at Asian Week yesterday.) But then it occurred to us that we have two members of the Gawker family who might be able to help us heal the breach, or at least begin a dialogue, between blacks and Asians. We asked The Assimilated Negro and Spinachdip to get to the bottom of the enmity between the two communities. The results will make everyone feel a little better. Except maybe the gays.

Sure, everyone knows about the Harveys and the Annas. But what of the smaller fish in our big pond? You know, ICM's (or former ICM!) Richard Abates, Harper Entertainment's Maureen O'Briens—the Steven Brills, the Jane Rosenthals. They don't get nearly the villification they deserve! It's sad. But there's a solution! Please let us know who you think deserves to be the subject of the next thinly veiled vengeance memoir as we start working on our definitive list.

Wow, so some messed up stuff happened with the Dow yesterday, huh? A 416 point plunge! Drudge whipped out the siren and everything! And we all know what the Dow's decline means, right? Actually, wait a second, no we don't! We are pig ignorant when it comes to stocks and stuff. We are, in fact, as financially savvy as the New York Post seems to think its readers are ("Don't worry, play Scratch N' Win!"). Fortunately, we know people who do understand these things and are willing to explain them to us. We spoke to Dana Vachon, former J.P. Morgan Investment Banking Analyst and author of the forthcoming Mergers and Acquisitions (pre-order today!).

Craigslist's New York real estate listings are a particularly hideous wasteland. A new $10 fee for listings by brokers hasn't cut all the crap yet by any means, and wading through the illiterate broker misery is beyond dispiriting. But we can help! For some reason, Craigslist doesn't publicize that not only can you search for things, you can search against them.

David Cross, the scamp of a comedian who's frequently spotted out and about in his East Village neighborhood, just made it a lot easier to stalk him! Not that you would. But in case you're curious about where to find him, or maybe just about where to eat eggs on the weekend, here's some advice: "While people wait for upwards of an hour and a half to eat at Clinton St. Bakery—which is great by the way—I choose to say, "Fuck that" and head to Lil' Frankie's for an immediate plate of eggs Parmesan or eggs pomodoro." This advice might work slightly less well if you're not a celebrity, or in this case David Cross, but whatever! Also in this interview, David cops to enjoying red wine with every meal, which might explain his equating pork fat with "angel's ejaculate."

Yo, so listen. Don't be alarmed. It's Ash Wednesday, that day when Catholics walk around with burnt palm leaves on their faces in the shape of a cross or whatever, representing the structure on which their Lord and Savior was murderized. You know how you always think you live in a Godless society here in Manhattan? Well, it ain't true—and today's that one freaky day of the year when we come face to face (as it were!) with the truth. So anyway, we just didn't want you to have that weird jumpy surreal moment that comes each year on this day when you get on the train and you think "Man, that dude has a lot of stuff on his forehead." Seriously, that shit get us every time!

In which we find the very best autism stories in the Times so you don't have to go through all the boring ones.

The weather bunnies have been so sad this year, what with the utter lack of snowfall to get people all riled up and freaked out. But, ho! Here comes the first real storm of the year, and the necessary accompanying breathless coverage. The Times warns, "Cities in the Northeast braced today for a lashing of sleet, snow, winds and rain as a major winter storm moved across the Midwest and was expected to arrive in the New York area late this afternoon." The Post implores, "Ladies and gentlemen, grab your shovels. A snowstorm could dump up to six inches on the metropolitan area tonight." Uh, wait. Six inches? That's never really excited us.

In case you haven't yet made plans for Valentine's Day, might we suggest you take your sweetie over to Balthazar? It's a neighborhood favorite, you know. We're not going to tell you what to order, but we will let you know that our publisher Nick Denton and his editorial sidekick Lockhart Steele always enjoy sharing six inches of glistening berries.

As is their wont, the folks at The Smoking Gun have obtained the police interview that occurred after Mike Tyson's most recent arrest. It makes for rather depressing reading: Here's a man who has obviously never been in control of his own emotions, whose early success has left him the victim of sycophants determined to drain him of what few funds he has left, and whose internal pain is so great that not only is he on prescription medication for depression, but who frequently resorts to self-medication. We're particularly concerned about the above excerpt: Does that really work? Because we've got a really bad cold right now and we hate to feel like we're wasting anything. Seriously, we'd love to know.

We were disturbed to learn, via a Dealbook profile of Dead Horse Media (Gawker founding editor Elizabeth Spiers' burgeoning online empire), that "Spiers registered some other interesting Web domains, including Size0.com and the provocatively named GawkerKiller.com, and has even started posting content to some of them". Could it be? Did Elizabeth really plan to damage our livelihoods? Or persons? Reached for comment, Ms. Spiers chuckled.

The question isn't "Who on my list would like to receive an American Apparel size Medium t-shirt silkscreened with the likeness of underage MisShapes DJ Jackson Pollis?" The question is "(muffled tears and sound of head hitting desk.)" Anyway, should you have any interest in scoring what's sure to be the hottest item to be photographed in for a photo-twat website, there's a contest you can enter over at Imaginary Socialite. Imagine the looks on their faces as they unwrap this specialest of presents!

Give The Gift of Jackson! [Imaginary Socialite]
Earlier: Gawker Gift Guide

As everyone knows, Gawker readers are classy, affluent individuals whose extreme productivity allows them plenty of time to stay up to speed on the important goings-on of the internet. And, like many refined, tasteful people, they're incredibly hard to shop for. As the Holidays approach, we thought we'd make like every other reputable news and entertainment outlet and provide you with a few gift suggestion that are tailored to the unique needs of the hip, savvy Gawker demographic. They're after the jump, conveniently broken down by reader stereotype.

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.