Our Gawker Media Worldwide Blogging Concern bosses are making a bold push into the world of "books," which our company historian assures us was a content-delivery system once enjoyed by old-timey intellectual-types on their fifteen minute breaks from the butter churn. (We're still skeptical. He once tried to convince us that early blogs were rendered in cuneiform on clay tablets, and that their editors were paid handsomely in livestock.) In any case, this Gawker Book, as we'll refer to it, requires the contributions of you, the endlessly bored reader who loves to type stories about their amusing/enlightening/maddening work experiences into welcoming web forms for no monetary compensation whatsoever. Intrigued yet? Of course you are. The details of how to participate in this project that will undoubtedly revive the long-dormant "book" form are after the jump:

In addition to our weekly commenter cancellations, a feature in which we think you've already taken an almost perverse pleasure, we're also launching another week-ending item in which you, the easily bored and strongly opinionated reader, can tell us about the kinds of things you'd like to see more of (or, as the case may be, less of) in the coming week. Want every post to be accompanied by a startlingly huge, officially approved Brian Grazer headshot, regardless of subject matter? Tell us. Think there's an area of Lindsay Lohan coverage that's being criminally neglected? Say so. Either drop us a line to tips@defamer.com enlightening us about your hopes and dreams for the coming week or duke it out in this post's comments if you're one of the lucky, chosen, unicorn-riding few. Sure, we'll probably just ignore most of the suggestions (especially if they're anti-Grazer-headshot rants), but you just might open our eyes to some things we've been too drunk (or hungover) to think of on our own.

It is our incredible pleasure to inform you on behalf of our merchandising-obsessed management that the Gawker Shop (visit it here online, or our other, less convenient location, the trunk of a car stalled near the valet stand at Hyde) has finally—finally!—restocked its supply of two of its billion-selling t-shirts models, the It's Not Whoring If You Do It For Free (pictured—and isn't that so, so true?), and the Quietly Judging You. But there's even better news: the shirts are now available in larger sizes, an attempt to better accommodate your recent pectoral or breast augmentation surgeries. As always, these shirts are backed by the Gawker Shop Guarantee: If you don't achieve international superstardom within fifteen years of your purchase, our boss will personally refund your money.* Consume!

By now we think you may be onto our little associate editor's note shenanigans, in which we inform you of our whip-cracking boss from hell's esteemed masthead companion's absentia due to humiliating, albeit completely fabricated, circumstances. Having cried wolf in the past on everything from gender reassignment surgery to Miata owner's conventions, we'd completely understand if you raise an incredulous eyebrow when we now tell you that Mark is currently on leave for a 48-hour, intensive training seminar at the John Travolta Flight Academy. This time, sadly, it's no joke: Your Defamer editor is at this moment logging thousands of miles and getting the kind of one-on-one, hands-on mentorship for which the JTFA is famous. He'll be back Monday, radiant and gushing about his sky-high adventures. Until then, however, we go it alone.

Wracking your brains trying to come up with the perfect gift for that special call-roller in your life in honor of the quickly approaching Hollywood Assistant's Day*? You can never go wrong with a subscription to Defamer Mobile. A mere $4.99 per month ensures they're always in the loop with up-to-minute reports on Barney Greengrass brawls and Paris Hilton DUIs, sent conveniently to the very same mobile device you've snatched off their desks and launched at their heads countless times before. It's the perfect way to say, "Do you realize how easily replaceable you are?"

We interrupt today's regularly scheduled nonsense for some incredibly important announcements about a series of "upgrades" to our commenting system:

Not a week after Mark took some time off for a highly controversial gonad resurfacing and scrotal lift (really, Mark, that's a procedure for men twice your age. Has gravity been that unkind?), he's off again today, presumably to take his new, improved self out for a spin. Patrons of the Downtown Standard rooftop pool, this is your lucky day: Simply rap twice quickly on the center waterbed pod, wait for his breathy order to "Enter," and climb into the undulating oasis to get up close and personal with the fruits of his painful self-improvement regime. In the meantime, your associate editor—who plans on allowing his every body part the dignity of growing old naturally, thank you very much—will carry you through this half-day of posting before your Labor Day long weekend.

As he is wont to do from time to time, Mark will awaken me in the dead of night with a phone call, screaming that he has once again "had the dream." He never describes what exactly goes down in this dream, though hints are occasionally dropped between the disconsolate whimpers—last night, for example, I specifically remember him mentioning "the children," and "LASIK." There is no need for alarm, however, as if this turns out anything like last time, your Defamer editor will be located in a number of hours, albeit completely naked and attempting to engage the patrons of the House of Pies on Vermont Ave. in conversation. In the meantime, your less emotionally fragile associate editor is happy to take up the slack, and carry you through this final, Friday hurdle before your weekend.

We have bad news and good news. First, the bad: The Bengali design firm to which Gawker Media outsources the production of all of its fine t-shirts is, improbably, staffed only by fundamentalist Catholics who absolutely refuse to whip us up any Mel Gibson "What do you think you're looking at, Sugar Tits?" product. We are loathe to interfere with their religious beliefs, so you'll have to look elsewhere for garments bearing that slogan.

Not that you want to hear us bitch about our connectivity issues, but it seems that the blazing heat liquefied anyone wearing a customer service headset over at our fine internet service provider (hint: begins with "A" and ends with "delphia"), leading to unusual call volumes, interminable waits on hold, and our inability to do any work. We're back for now, though, which we're sure makes everyone feel better. Do us a favor and help us make up for our downtime by reloading this page 40 or 50 times over the course of the next hour or so. Thanks.

This announcement will probably be of interest to only a few of you, but over the weekend, Gawker Media Blog Overlord Nick Denton chained our tech team to a series of radiators and beat them mercilessly (he's partial to the cat-o'-nine-tails, if you must know) until he secured a promise that they'd make some improvements on the technology that makes this site work. The upgrades are already in place, but in the highly unlikely event that you encounter a bug in the site's layout, or operability, or whatever (example of one you don't need to tell us about: the comment links on the front page currently aren't reflecting if someone has left one or not), please do us a favor by e-mailing a report on the bug to tips@defamer.com, including information about your OS and browser versions, and if you're the kind who saves stray animals and doesn't scald your assistant with coffee for dropping calls, a screenshot of the fuck-up. Thank you in advance for performing free labor on our behalf, as per usual.

You probably won't be able to read this until the problem's solved, but we just thought we'd let you know that we're in the throes of some nasty "technical difficulties" right now, as our servers are apparently suffering from a sympathy hangover from all the beer we drank yesterday while watching the neighborhood kids' amateur fireworks displays. We hope to have things fixed shortly, and thanks for sticking with us through these incredibly trying, post-holiday times.

Longtime readers of this internet pamphlet know the drill by now: I return from vacation, make up some wild story about the fascinating things I did on my all-too-brief vacation (which usually includes at least one reference to shoddily executed gender reassignment surgery), and then jump right back on the blogging hamster-wheel. Since we're all a little exhausted from our marathon celebration of our Nation's proud support of the illegal fireworks industry, I'll spare you the genital-swapping jokes and get back to work. But no good editor would return from a brief hiatus without a gift, so please accept this thumbnail image of Sarah Michelle Gellar's wedding cake and the entire, unedited press release about various celebrities' extravagant, marriage-related baked goods we found in our inbox this morning. —Mark

We understand things can get confusing, especially under the loud pops of fireworks prevalent this time of year, but we're here to assure you that Mark's absence today has everything to do with a well-deserved break, and nothing to do with an assault-rifle assisted "reorganizing" of Gawker Media's California-based operations. After a day off of posting tomorrow, we'll have him back on Wednesday (we think), and with our newly harvested insights into the fragility of blogging life, we shall immediately tell him how much he means to us. Until then, we schlep through Monday alone.

Because his profound levels of jingoistic national pride are outmatched only by his love of a five-day, Fourth of July weekend, Mark has been granted temporary leave from the Defamer windowless basement HQ to embark on a personal mission to spread American goodwill throughout the globe. As foreign audiences thrill to his multimedia Powerpoint presentation, "USA: Who's With Me?!" your devoted associate editor Seth shall be here to see you through any complications that may arise in the coming, explosively patriotic days (involving lost digits due to premature fireworks discharge or otherwise).

Do you enjoy "blogs," but find that "reading words" sometimes induces dizziness, mild nausea, and the occasional, barely controllable urge to discharge firearms in the workplace? Then you're in luck! Today's launch of Gawker Clips aggregates the video snippets featured on Gawker Media's various worldwide blogging properties into one easy-to-find, company-branded location. But let the pre-approved promotional copy we've adapted above more clearly communicate these sentiments:

As Seth noted on Friday, I was once again able to trick the guard stationed by my Lucite blogging prison to lean in close enough for me to chew off his tongue, steal his Gawker Media Security uniform, and briefly escape into the outside world. But like any thoroughly brainwashed Nick Denton employee, I still squandered my brief period of freedom on business, hopping on the first flight to the UK so I could personally apologize on my boss's behalf to every British citizen for potentially destroying their interest in Hello!'s exclusive first photographs of Angelina Jolie's baby. Once that task was completed, I was invited to Parliament to flip a switch that restored access to Defamer and Gawker for the UK's gossip-loving population. I was told that "Posh and Becks" were on hand at the lavish ceremony, but as an ugly American, I had no idea that these were people and not unappetizing pub food. I learned so very much on my mission of peace.

Hello, folks. Just a note to let you know Mark is away until Monday on important business (something about an International Miata Owner's Convention in Phoenix—I didn't press him too much on the details). So once again, it's just the other guy with you today. Mark's coterie of personal tipsters, make sure to Cc: me. Everyone else—hang in there. Your weekend of avoiding proud Gays and their shameful acts of public merriment-making is soon here. -Seth

In celebration of Memorial Day weekend, during which we pay solemn tribute to our fallen heroes by stubbornly donning tanktops regardless of prohibitive weather conditions, Defamer will be posting for a half-day today, and returning to a full posting schedule Tuesday. Mark has already taken off, and is at this very moment unpacking his beloved "BBQ Jedi" apron and tongs-of-the-trade, which leaves your associate editor at the helm. Here's wishing everyone a great summer kickoff long weekend, overflowing with family and friends, rope-swing plunges into the ol' watering hole, and thrilling, gay-allegorical comic book adaptations.

Over the course of the next few days, you may notice that our city has been overrun with geeks* attending the annual pagan celebration of all things video game, E3. It should probably go without saying that the monolithic, faceless blogging corporation that pays our salaries has sprung for a single Motel 6 room to house a team from our thumb-abusing sister site, Kotaku, who will be presenting live coverage of the orgy all week. Drop by and learn about the hot games that will become poorly written movies sometime in the fall of 2008.