How is Amanda Scheer Demme, hott scenemaking proprietress of the Celebrity Salad-Tossing Lounge at Tropicana Bar, supposed to court the greatandinteresting when she's being undermined by her associates at the Roosevelt Hotel? At $119 a night ($30 more for a deluxe upgrade), every trailer dweller from Oklahoma will descend upon her A-list cocoon and demand to shotgun Busch Lite from what's left of Nicole Richie's butt cleavage.

When the NY Times starts asking about the negative ("travel blog"-borne) buzz surrounding your painfully hot, "if you're not drinking here tonight, you might as well be jerking off donkeys in West Virginia, Cletus" nightspot, you'd better put down the $25 mai tai, stop giving the finger to the hotel guest who wants to take a dip in the pool, and attempt an explanation.

Some of our readers have penetrated the perimeter defenses of Amanda Scheer Demme's Poolside Celebrity Reacharound Lounge at Tropicana Bar Plaza in the Roosevelt Hotel, where only L.A.'s fanciest and most connected cocktail-pounders dare to tread. These are their stories:

The LAT's Restaurant Journal turns in a quick survey of the local patio scene, and like all discussions of what's painfully hot conducted in the last six weeks, this one begins with Amanda Scheer Demme's Star-Fellating Xanadu At The New Scheer/Roosevelt Demme-Hotel:

It looks like Bruce Willis made the "great and interesting" cut at the Tropicana bar at the Roosevelt, which might currently hold the title of "most celeb-infested liquor hole in all of Hollywood." From Page Six:

While pretty much every club in Hollywood worth a paparazzi's flashbulb is zigging towards the ultra-exclusive (and once those IMDb-checking stations are installed at their doors, it's only going to get worse) , the crazy nightlife iconoclasts behind the new Red Buddha Lounge are zagging towards—gasp! the horror! what about the children?!—inclusiveness:

Have you ever found yourself standing on top of a table in a Las Vegas club, chugging Grey Goose straight from the bottle, then suddenly overcome by an overwhelming sense of L.A.-flavored deja vu? That simultaneous comforting/unsettling effect has been painstakingly crafted by a host of club owners and promoters who are trying to replicate the Hollywood club experience in Vegas, right down to importing the usual batch of celebrity VIP booth monkeys. From Sunday's LAT:

In today's LAT, Hollywood jill-of-all-trades Amanda Scheer Demme describes her vision for the "revamped" Roosevelt Hotel and the three new hotspot bars (the Tropicana, the Lobby Bar, and the upcoming Teddy's) housed under its historic roof:

Have you ever wished that whilst having your guts stomped out by a bouncer that refuses to warm to your continued attempts to invade Spider Club (Paris Hilton must know your true feelings, why can't they understand?), you could yelp out the name of the club's owner or that evening's sainted promoter in the vain hope that your beating will be somewhat curtailed? If so, LA.com's got your back with its guide to our fine city's hottest nightlife personalities. "On the list," as it were: Prey owner Sam Nazarian, DJ "Mr. Nicole Richie" AM, and Brent Bolthouse (whose radio show on Indie 103 with Danny Masterson is a must-listen for Danny Masterson fans), who controls the infamous Friday night list at the aforementioned Spider. The helpful LA.com folk even include a photo gallery with the list, so that you can wave goodbye to someone far better connected than you in those final, sweet moments of consciousness preceding the unceremonious dumping of your broken, D-list body in a urine-soaked alley. Fun!

While the unwashed masses piled into automobiles and legroom-bereft economy airline seats to escape our fair city for the holiday weekend, the industry's distressingly thin stall-monkeys, untalented, less attractive younger sisters, and semifamous, vaguely ethnic television gardeners assembled at the usual spot for the usual night of unremarkable fame-related stuff:

Assistants with debilitating hangovers make shitty tipsters (trust us, we've learned that one that hard way), so we're just going to have to imagine the celeb-infested orgy that took place at Prey last night.