Escape artist Anthony Martin went skydiving while locked and chained inside a coffin. He freed himself while falling and parachuted to safety. I'm sorry, but that is awesome.

With one simple click of your TiVo remote, you can instantly subscribe to all of Gawker.TV's must-see television shows. From late-night antics to our favorite sitcoms, you'll stay informed on everything we'll be talking about the next day online.

Since this is my last weekend on the site until I return, begging for a job as James Del's assistant, I've invited some friends along. Lauren Leto is a blogger and the proprietor of Texts From Last Night. Lauren?

Since this is my last weekend on the site until I return, begging for a job as James Del's assistant, I've invited some friends along. Elizabeth Spiers is the founding editor of Gawker. Mallory Keaton doesn't like her.

Hey man, as long as you don't run into his neighbor. Then again, nah. I think he's already taking a lien over the marbles out of my paycheck. GET OVER HERE, ANDREW. Update! Young Manhattanite is here. With video!

If you wrote a piece for the Huffington Post entitled Do You Really Need an Editor at a Publishing House?, you'd make a strong case, right? The answer, as evidenced by Knopf editor Carole Baron, is a resounding absolutely.

Here's a blog strictly of politicians and world leaders appearing to discuss penis size.

The only thing stopping The Grey Lady from getting totally felt up this weekend must've been a particularly adamant copy editor. This weekend, the Times introduced us to a "lactation consultant." Naturally, a few fourth-grade level "har har" moments followed.

Today's Page Six had an especially glorious item, pitting the designs of two gossip blog networks against each other, with chatter that someone's totally biting our shit off: the socialite chronicling Guest of a Guest, and Gawker Media. That's us.

Wow. Talk about burying the lede. Obama and Clinton went BAD. ASS on some sucka climate change opposition. The two've been chipping away at this Copenhagen summit, but it took them busting down a door to get things "handled." Observe:

How academia should be: "'Hideous Gnosis,' a six-hour theory symposium on black-metal music" at a Williamsburg bar last weekend. Talks included "Perpetual Rot: Obsessive Cycles of Deterioration," on "'liminal death-space' in the work of Xasthur." Screw college. [NYT; Related]

Craigslist Posting of the Week? By the time you get to "cock deficiency," yes.

Yes, folks, that is Alexandra Ashley Dupre. That Alexandra Ashley Dupre. Writing for that New York Post. Fill in the lede:

The moment's almost here: one lucky bidder is going to be the proud owner of our charity-friendly National Book Award-winner and James Franco-endorsed copy of Sarah Palin's Going Rogue, which is going to benefit Save The Children. Not Dave Eggers.

Media columnist David Carr just Twittered a caption for his latest filing, a media death knell with a bright-eyed ending, summoning the title of Joan Didion's famous essay about leaving her New York experience behind. Is the comparison merited?

Riddle me this! What do Greenville, South Carolina, allegations of John McCain's illegitimate African American kid, Christian Coalition leader Ralph Reed, and former Dubya press secretary Ari Fleischer getting a blowjob have in common? No, really: guess. Ready? So awesome:

At 2009's National Book Awards we honored Sarah Palin's Going Rogue as 2010's frontrunner for the NBA Fiction Prize by getting it signed by the gathered literary luminaries. And now, it can be the best charitable, tax-deductible present ever.

I must've inadvertently done a rain dance to the gossip gods yesterday, because here at Gawker Weekend HQ, Christmas is here. Not often do I get too many O RLY?! moments like this. Everyone, meet my boss Nick's new neighbor:

Evil Twin-spawning Sarah Palin isn't catching any easy breaks lately. Should she? Better ask her fans who, oh wait, are now booing her. And when Martha Stewart calls you out, damn, you know you've set some kind of bar.

The Harvard-Yale game's a storied tradition for Ivy League grads who enjoy comparing degree sizes/names. For everyone else, it's an opportunity to watch America's Prestigious Ivy Grads try to act like normal football fans, which they can't. So: what happened?!