Good. Lord. How embarrassing. Backstory: This is the 60th anniversary of Ogilvy, one of the world's largest ad agencies. Their offices were given a budget to create a tribute to beloved founder David Ogilvy. This is what the Athens office created. Problems: It's a ballad. It's extremely earnest. In English, "David" does not in fact rhyme with "Avid." We could go on. And on. This, uh, music video has been floating around for a few days, but it is very important that you watch it—if only to reaffirm your belief in the supremacy of American songwriting over the loathsome Greek balladeers:

First Microsoft hired proven Mac lover Jerry Seinfeld to crappily kick off its new $300 million ad campaign. Then the company dropped Seinfeld and brought in a slew of new celebrities to declare their love for PCs. Including hip hop star Pharrell—Another. Proven. Apple. Lover. Research! Payoffs! Do something, Microsoft! Pictured, Pharrell and his beloved golden iPhone. Here's a video where he describes his Mac tendencies. Fiasco! Ridiculous! And here's a brand new Microsoft ad with Pharrell declaring he is, in fact, a PC:

We've heard so much about the exploits of fuck-a-chick blogger and filmmaker Tucker Max. What of those only tangentially related to him? Well, a 21-year-old UConn student who called Tucker "MY HERO" was arrested last weekend for "allegedly forcing his way into a sleeping woman's apartment and raping her." Also, Tucker Max's former lawyer is currently getting chewed out on Wikipedia for repeatedly trying to insert his own bio into Tucker's Wikipedia page. This has been your Tucker Max Associate Update.

Why the hell have we written so much about Tucker Max? Because you want to read it! What started out as nothing more than a one-off request to have a look at a bad movie script has blossomed into full-blown miniseries chronicling the many dimensions of our bro Tucker's internet-famous personality. But why did anyone care about this rather pedestrian guy in the first place? Schadenfreude is involved, we suspect. We've taken the time to delve into the psychology of this pressing issue below, in the Gawker Field Guide To Tucker Max. Complete with photos from Tucker's incredible life! Who is he?

Pussy-smashing brew-guzzler and occasional blogger Tucker Max is hard at work on the Shreveport, Louisiana set of his comedic masterpiece film debut I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell. The ideal situation would obviously be for Tucker to produce, direct, star in, and cater the movie himself, but due to demands on his valuable time he's forced to take on lesser mortals as his assistants. One of whom, surprisingly, has now quit in disgust and forwarded along his story to us! After the jump, the sad tale of woe, abuse, and poop. But Tucker has a warning for you haters: "I didn't get where I am today by being a moron.": The young man was a Tucker fan, and quit a real job to go be a paid assistant on the set of Tucker's film, where we pick up his experiences:

"Fratire" practitioner and pussy-pulling machine Tucker Max is best known for a handful of stories about himself on his blog that all-upon close inspection-involve getting drunk and chasing girls and are really not that interesting. But as an author with a well-developed voice, he sometimes ventures further afield, into stories about himself doing slightly different mundane things. But Tucker's never been able to understand the difference between being a charming asshole and being an actual asshole, and he is the latter, despite what he may think deep down. That's why he writes things like this long three-year-old message board posting about meeting an FBI agent whose tales of killing Mexicans land him in the Awesome Guy Hall of Fame! Tucker seems to have some latent fear of Mexicans, mane. Enjoy: The scene: Tucker is sitting next to an FBI agent on a plane, swapping stories:

Tucker Max: blogger of beer and sluts, writer and producer of one of the least funny comedy movie scripts since Illegally Yours, and asshole in a dozen different ways. The most ridiculous of which is as the boss of his own mini-empire of blogs! And since last week, we've heard from several of his former Rudius Media employees, who expound on the gentle pleasures of working for one of America's foremost purveyors of racist poop jokes: He's a cheapskate. Last week we noted how Tucker scoffed at a former blogger who wondered why he only made $82 for six months of work. Other employees tell us the standard pay for Rudius bloggers is somewhere in the $80/ quarter range, with one noting "I got just a tiny bit more than that when my site was doing really well." Sweet. So Rudius must be making a lot of money. You work hard for the money. One Rudius employee was ordered by Tucker to move to a different, more expensive city because Tucker thought that they could better do their job elsewhere. Once the employee had gone to the trouble of packing up and moving and finding a new, more costly apartment, we hear, their pay was reduced to almost nothing. Which seems like the standard Rudius pay rate, now that we think of it. He's not popular with publishers. We hear that at least one book agent quit working with Tucker because he flaked out on book proposal deadlines. (Not true? Email us!) He's not popular with the bloggers that work for him at Rudius. The emails we've received from disgruntled bloggers alone are ample evidence of this. He attracts bloggers he's interested in with the promise of writing for a wider audience-though, as you can tell by their pay, not necessarily more money. But when bloggers tire of Rudius and leave the fold, we hear, they are bizarrely wiped from existence in Tucker Max's world:

Tucker Max, the "bet I can fuck this one-eyed chick in the bathroom after consuming 13 warm Coronas, bro" blogger and moviemaker-whose classic comedy movie script we excerpted for you this week-seems be an unpopular fellow, judging from the emails we receive around here. Considering the fact that he has built an "empire," ha, upon the stated foundation of being an asshole, it's not surprising. But it is getting a little hard to keep up. Today, we're going to give you a quick roundup of the various accusations against the man that have poured in to us. None of which are confirmed! Much like Tucker's own writing, they're just shit on the internet. Although several do seem to be in character for him:

You, the public, recently got to preview portions of the horrific (currently in production!) movie script for I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell, written by "Dude, I did 12 shots of Jamesons and totally puked on that chick's tits" bro-blogger Tucker Max. The primary question that arose afterwards was, "What kind of girl would go out with this asshole?" Well, ladies and gentlemen, we (purportedly) have an answer-with all of the "whores," bad sex, emotional manipulation, fried chicken, drunk driving, and, uh, other bad things that you would have imagined: A tipster forwarded us the following text, which they say is an entry that was deleted from Tucker Max's ex-girlfriend's blog. We don't follow the man's love life closely enough to know whether this is true, but the blog does have Tucker Max listed as its contact person. Portions of this post have been floating around the internet for some time now. That's our disclaimer. Now here's the alleged Tucker Max love experience:

Yesterday, while we were bravely posting traumatic excerpts of the script to Tucker Max's I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell, the brah-blogger's peeps sent out an electronic casting call for the film. Perhaps we judged Max too harshly, unaware as we were of the high acting standards to which he will hold whoever plays "Jade," referred to in the script as "The Large Titted Woman Who Is Turned On By Being An Object." To look at the cast being assembled, one can't help but conclude that Beer In Hell will be a shoo-in for a coveted Best Feature Film Involving Midget Blowjobs Oscar. Here's what they're looking for in the way of exotic dancers (emphasis from the original, naturally):

Do you know what time it is? Time for the final awful excerpts of hot lady-banging dude blogger Tucker Max's movie script, that's what time! In the first half of the film, we saw Tucker asserting his status as an alpha male; in the second half, he reveals his sensitive side. Below, the final three lowlights of I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell-embracing the themes of multiculturalism, midget sex, and, yes, diarrhea. We hope this doesn't spoil the movie for you: 4. Tucker's Friend Is Down With Mexicans, Mane:

Yesterday we put out a call for the viciously panned script of I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell, the upcoming film written by I-totally-fucked-that-chick blogger Tucker Max. We immediately received about a dozen copies of the script, which is apparently being forwarded around Hollywood like a list of bad lawyer jokes. I also could have said "like herpes," and I could also follow up by joking that the script is about as funny as a bad lawyer with herpes, haha. Friends, it opens with Tucker Max fucking a deaf girl and screaming "DON'T TAZE ME, BRO!." It is that bad. After the jump, three of the most terrible moments from the film's first half. Jesus, bro:

Of all the fucking awful people that have wandered through Bravo's Real Housewives series, Slade Smiley might be the worst. (Well, second worst.) On the Orange County iteration of the reality debacle, the arrogant dope (whose birth name, we're convinced, wasn't fucking "Slade") demanded that his much-younger (she was 24 at the time) fiancé Jo "grow up" and stop going out all the time and take care of his children, but also liked to dress her up in sexy French maid outfits. So it's funny to hear now that while promoting Date My Ex, his new Bravo reality show in which he pimps out his now-ex-fiancé (go girl! sort of) for airtime and potential profit, he suffered a grave embarrassment:

So the Times didn't like it. Whatever. I'm still DVR'ing the latest Disney Channel musical teenybomp crapfest Camp Rock because, well, I love that stuff. Yes. I am a (slightly shameful) fan of High School Musical and its silly sequel. As I hope you're well aware by now, I have a minor obsession with Gossip Girl. It's a slightly embarrassing truth: my tastes never evolved past fifteen. Well, OK, that's not exactly true. I mean I love the good, challenging stuff. I like weirdo avant garde plays and Terrence Malick movies and I love a good Frontline, but I also lurrrve Degrassi. I'm not exactly sure why some part of my brain still lingers in the dim, echoing halls of high school, but it does. And even though people make fun of me for it (I believe my esteemed boss's words were "ha, freak"), I think it's OK.

Rupert Grint, in my estimation the real dreamboat of the Harry Potter movies, says he won't move to Los Angeles because of all the mental girls there. Well, two in particular. On bedraggled cocaine enthusiast Lindsay Lohan: "I met Lindsay last summer and she talked about herself a lot. She said she was going to win an Oscar before she turns 25. I just kept thinking, 'But you can't act'." Hah! On wan puddle of Alfredo sauce Paris HIlton: "I haven't met Paris and don't want to either. She and Lindsay are the type of girls you need to stay away from." Hah again! Mrs. Weasley would be so proud. [Showbiz Spy]

Ooooh, teen star cat fight that no one but me and a few twelve year olds care about: Vanessa Hudgens, the High School Musical starlet who takes [NSFW] nude photos for her gay fake boyfriend, is apparently furious that Ali Lohan, Lindsay's fame grubbing sister, wants a part in the upcoming feature film High School Musical 3: Senior Year (they're seniors in that one!!) She's worried that all the inevitable Lohan-focused drama will steal her spotlight. She sounds like Sharpay! (kill me) [Showbiz Spy]