The Daily News reports new revelations about the (accused) rape-y unlicensed livery car driver who picked up women and assaulted them—sometimes outside the Box cabaret! Torkieh Sadagheh had dreams of being the "next Borat," and apparently his actions were a too-literal interpretation of the Sacha Baron Cohen film. Somebody should get an American-humor translator to tell him that Borat was supposed to be a joke. The scene where he stuffs Pamela Anderson into a sack? A joke, dude. See the video!

John Fitzgerald Page built his reputation as a poxy online dater in part by bragging about his 8.9 score on the website "Hot or Not" to a girl he was telling off. Won't you please help Page continue to invent douchey new brags by voting five starts for him in Esquire's "Best Dressed Real Man 2008" competition? He's only up to one star and eight votes; his legions of admirers have not yet shown up. James describes himself as "Gordon Gekko + James Bond + Italian designers," but you can judge for yourself:

Nineteen-year-old Max Gogarty (who just so happens to be the son of former Guardian travel writer Paul Gogarty) is free, white, and preparing to travelblog his way through Asia. Young Max is from London, in his gap year, and "spends his money on food, booze and skinny jeans, writes for Skins in his spare time. He's off to India and Thailand to have a good time, and you can join him in his weekly blog." Let's take a look at the single blogpost that prompted such furious commenter reactions that the Guardian actually closed the comments section.

The most retarded columnist in the entire city would like to take you on a date, but he can't just ask, first he has to prove his idiocy through a "Men Seeking Women Ad" on Craigslist. In the ad, the columnist will brag about his intelligence and accomplishments while dropping enough hints so that everyone, or at least everyone who matters, will be able to figure out exactly who he is, thus piercing his veil of anonymity and calling into question the very smarts he was touting to begin with. Here are the clues: he is "an ivy league educated writer," covers politics and is "the youngest columnist in the 200-year history of my newspaper." Also, he lives on the Upper West Side and is 28-Craigslist-years old. This should really narrow it down. Who is he? Email tips@gawker.com. Badly-written Craigslist ad after the jump, plus a big clue as to which newspaper he works for.

This flowchart, designed to answer the question "Do you dress like a Douchebag?", is brilliant for any number of reasons, but high up on the list has to be the sequence that goes "Are you wearing a skirt? (yes)/Are you a woman? (no)/Are you Scottish? (yes)/Are you wearing undies (no)/Awesome." [Arabian Monkey]

Highbrow smut purveyor Nerve opened a "dating confessions" section on its website today, and quickly drew a flood of scuzzy testimonials that confirmed what everyone already kinda knew about Nerve's audience: it consists of sluts of all sexes and sorts, along with people burned by the mostly-idiotic practice of online dating (who'd have thought??). Fair enough, their stories at worst are trainwreck-watching fun, and well timed at that. Here are some stories of sex, betrayal and sadness, with an emphasis on the latter, culled from the confession booth:

Unrepentant douchebag John Fitzgerald Page, the worst person in the world, received unsolicited advice from an actual admirer, over the Internet. So of course he went and ruined everything by getting into a big douchey fight with the fan, who promptly emailed the whole exchange to us. In it, Page said "I didn't get this far by listening to random advice from strangers," and by "this far" he means "international infamy for bragging about squat-press capabilities and lunch with the Secretary of Defense and for asking questions like 'I went to an Ivy League school... where did you go to school?'" Email thread after the jump.

At the end of the night, when the lights came back on, my coat, that had my passport that I need to go to Berlin, my wallet full of maxed-out credit cards I'm trying to pay off, my video recorder, full of a bunch of footage I still need to import, was not in the coat area. ...My friend Josh told me that of the dozens of parties he's had at his loft, this has never happened.

Elyse Sewell, the beat-up ex-girlfriend of the indie-band Shins keyboard player (and former America's Next Top Model contestant!), had to go to court today. "Soon I will find out whether I will be prosecuted or the District Attorney will drop the felony charges," she Livejournals. (She bit the keyboardist in self-defense). She posted a photo of herself standing outside a skeezy motel room, lookin' adorably waifish, yet appropriately demure, in a long black skirt, royal-blue mini-jacket, and T-strap shoes. Tyra would definitely approve! Her verdict, and her wide-eyed shock that her public Livejournal is "tabloid fodder," follows.

Keyboardist Marty Crandall of the Shins (their latest album is titled Wincing the Night Away!) was arrested for allegedly pounding on his model girlfriend. The victim—Elyse Sewell, who was on the first season of America's Next Top Model, has a Livejournal, in which she explains that dude got drunk in a Sacramento hotel room and hit her. She quickly locked the entry, but she says she'll unlock it after court date. Pitchfork posted the entirety of the entry before lockdown:

"'Douchebag ' was on the vinegary tips of everyone's tongues this year. Trouble is, I'm not really clear on what it means, and I don't know that anyone does," crooner John Mayer blogged yesterday. "I know that I get called one." So does his friend Pete Wentz and a filmmaker he admires named Zach Braff. What gives? What is the "common denominator of douchiness?"

26-year-old Tim Sykes had a bit of a career derailment when the hedge fund he built out of Bar Mitzvah money tanked. He was disinvited from a Trader Monthly party and he had to give up his butler! But now, Tim is having a resurgence, thanks to the website where he's sharing his wisdom with the masses. "I proud to announce that, TIM, or Transparent Investment Management, gained nearly 14% in November, even as both the Dow Jones Industrial Average and the S&P 500 lost 4% and the NASDAQ tanked 7%. It was a difficult month for most people (since everyone loves to be bullish), but it's during these kinds of markets that the ability to go both long or short really comes in handy (aka why hedge funds rock!)," he writes douchily in an email newsletter.

This morning, Atlanta internet-dater John Fitzgerald Page added another item to his impressive resume: he has now appeared on CBS's Early Show! Julie Chen looked on in horror from her side of the split-screen as John revealed that he still doesn't understand why that girl turned him down on Match.com. "Basically, if you hit on somebody on Match.com and you find them attractive, and then you find out that they have a good job with a good company and they live in a good part of town in a nice area and they take care of themselves ... that's not the time you'd reject them, I'd think," he retarditerates. "Every blog in the country" has covered him, he complained. Also, "people I've gotten roles have taken me off their 'friends' page." Ouch! But: "I know who I am and I'm just going to keep living my life and enjoying myself."

Nightmare online dater John Fitzgerald Page isn't going to sink back down to the bottom of the boggy internet-lake quite yet. He's still trying to puzzle out why people had such a strong negative response to his braggy, hatefilled email to a girl who had the audacity to turn him down on Match.com. "The problem was [her profile] has six pictures of her head," he reiterated recently in an interview with Atlanta alt-weekly Creative Loafing. "If you Internet date, you realize that means she's trying to hide something... I didn't harass her. I just sent her an e-mail saying basically 'I have these statistics and you can't hang.' They're threatening my life because I blew off a fat chick on the Internet." The bright light of semi-selfawareness might be beginning to penetrate the murk, however: "During our conversations, he asked repeatedly, 'Do I seem like the worst person in the world?'"

Aleksey Vayner, the most popular Halloween costume of 2006, plagiarist, fabulist and the king of all banker-boy douchebags, has come to New York City begging for a job and amends. Why the delay? As Dealbreaker notes, Vayner graduated in May and "was going to go pro in tennis, with a debut playing doubles in the US Open. Unfortunately, his partner hurt his wrist two hours before their match."

Say a final farewell to Robert Chambers, the man who ensured E! Channel-level publicity in perpetuity for Upper East Side Irish pub Dorrian's Red Hand, which is the last place his former ladyfriend was seen alive in 1986. Like so many preppy misfits and high-profile morons before him, dude just couldn't stick to his first two crimes (that would be murder and, in 2004, just after he was released from prison, possession and driving on a suspended license). Chambers and his girlfriend (this one was still alive!) sold more than a half-pound of cocaine out of their E. 57th Street apartment to undercover agents in recent months, who popped the two of them yesterday.

Sooo, that Atlantan nightmare Internet dater John Fitzgerald Page is trying to make minute 14:59 last by offering 'fans' the opportunity to buy merchandise commemorating the humiliating spectacle he's made of himself. T-shirt slogans include "Mensa Member with Muscles" and "All This And I'm Ivy League Educated Too." But evidence continues to point us to the conclusion that John has perhaps fudged some of his douchey credentials! Like, for example, that having-attended-Wharton thing. Turns out: no. Will we ever trust a man again?

The Atlanta Journal -Constitution did a story about their native son John Fitzgerald Page, nightmare internet dater and official world's worst person. The comments are the best part! They're are sort of a funhouse mirror of the comments here.

Know why we are special? Because while Atlantan internet-dating nightmare John Fitzgerald Page only saw fit to address you via an open letter on his website, he sent us a personal message with the subject line, "My official response." It has all the elements that made the original email to a woman who'd rejected his advances on Match.com so attention gettingly douchey, but instead of telling us how fat and ugly we must be because we don't want to date him, he explains to us that we're lucky he's not getting his "legal team involved."