GQ sent supermodel Naomi Campbell to interview Hugo Chavez. Hugo says Fidel Castro is "the most stylish world leader." Ahmadinejad: snubbed. HuffPo offers: "Keep reading -OR- See pictures of Naomi Campbell's bikini beach vacation."

Members of the press, we salute you, for your bravery in the face of extreme humiliation. Matt Lauer's Dateline interview Tuesday with Senator Larry Craig and his wife regarding Craig's restroom run-in with the law and/or male sexuality has journalists everywhere who viewed it bemoaning the experience—almost as though they'd been, say, recently exposed as hypocritical, closeted adulterers on national television. Poor things!

Guy Kawasaki interviews Frank Warren, the guy behind the fantastic PostSecret website and author of four spinoff books. Here's my nasty secret: I own several of Guy's books. [How to Change the World]

Remember kids: This Friday is our scheduled video interview with Tom Suozzi, the distant underdog in the race for the Democratic nomination for New York governor. As noted, the questions we'll ask shall come from you, the devoted public. We've collected a decent sampling of possible queries so far, even though a few elegantly simple yet impertinent submissions won't make the cut (e.g. "Top or bottom?"). We still need more. Remember: Suozzi will only get the questions right before the interview, at which point he has the option to flee. We want to lure the man in, seduce him, make him feel comfortable. Once we get his answers on video, they're yours forever. Suozzi has little enough to lose, so be creative and devious. Send your questions to gawksuozzi@gmail.com. The video should go up Friday afternoon, assuming Suozzi's goons haven't murdered our cameraman.

We may eschew affairs of state, but we're drawn to desperation like a B&T lothario scanning the bar at last call. Tom Suozzi is still campaigning versus New York attorney general Eliot Spitzer for rights to the Democratic gubernatorial nomination, despite trailing significantly in the polls. Looking for a boost, Suozzi has declared his interest in doing any and all kinds of press. What about us, then? And what about you? Care to join the fourth estate? Suozzi's campaign has agreed to have their man interviewed — on camera, our camera — by answering four questions submitted by Gawker readers. The interview will take place the morning of Friday, August 25, with the video clip posted that same day.

Today, a product team manager left Microsoft's Windows Live division to start his own company. That manager was Niall Kennedy, who had only joined Microsoft in April after leaving Technorati. I chatted with him about his move.

When Gawker mascot Andrew Krucoff came to us and asked if he could launch a blog book tour here for his "punk rock hero," we shrugged and scratched our heads and attempted to ignore him. (But, then, that's our regular reaction to Krucoff.) Apparently this hero of Kruc's, Frank Portman, has written the MySpace generation's Catcher in the Rye, and because we're intrigued by anyone Kruc has maintained an asexual crush on since he just was a little Kruci, we thought it wouldn't hurt to grant the request. After the jump, the two talk abut the book, King Dork, their long-unrequited love, about lots of other things about rock journalism. Future Lester Bangs — or even Chuck Klostermans — of America, take note!

LAist, the west coast spawn of Gothamist, has an interview with journalistic hitwoman Vanessa Grigoriadis — who has famously profiled the likes of Lizzie Grubman (in New York) and Paris Hilton (for Rolling Stone), often knocking her subjects down several pegs in the process. A successful journalist on this coast, Grigoriadis claims to have defected to Los Angeles a year ago to live with her fiance — but we don't buy it. A more likely reason to leave New York:

Hidden beneath a 30-second ad rests one of Salon's most entertaining articles ever: Benoit Denizet-Lewis' profile of Abercrombie & Fitch CEO Mike Jeffries — a 61-year-old man who bleaches his hair and has a thing for Herb Ritts. The leader of Abercrombie's WASPy gestapo struck us as more than a little weird, so we went to Denizet with some probing questions:

Continuing our happy stroll through the New York media's sexual wilderness, we came upon Eric Bogosian, in a Nerve.com interview, thinking out loud—can he ever manage it any other way?—about the febrile doings in his not-at-all pretentiously titled new novel,Wasted Beauty. Here's his interpretation of one hot hot hot peeping Tom scene in the book:

Somewhere, in a syringe-littered loft in Tribeca, rests four of New York's newest transplants: Jakob Lodwick, Zach Klein, Josh Abramson, and Ricky Van Veen, the filthy minds behind the burgeoning-beyond-control website College Humor. The boys took a minute out of their day of working in their underwear (gee, sounds vaguely familiar) to conduct an intimate IMterview with resident fratboy Andrew Krucoff. After the beloved jump, the boys tell us about blueberry muffins, hallucinogenic drugs, and the art of labeling people.

Last night, with a wallet full of Action Jacksons, free admission coupons ripped from the pages of L Magazine, the lure of happy hour and the promise of a complimentary buffet (which was either a lie or somewhere in a $600/hour private dance room upstairs) we ventured to the wily west of 51st Street and 12th Avenue where Larry Flynt opened a Hustler Club — sort of a Disney-fied Runway 69, for those of you who can recall the good old Forty Deuce days.

Webster's defines "magazine" as—nevermind, we're not going to do research. You all know what a magazine is, right? Some of you can even stop looking at the pictures long enough to read them. So we won't bother trying to describe Richard Rushfield's humor mag LA Innuendo, except to say that he gets persnickety when you call it a 'zine and suggest that he lives in his mother's basement. He, um, doesn't, we swear! In addition to cracking funnies, Rushfield is a "cool-hunter," which unfortunately doesn't mean he's tracking Chloe and Gallo with a blunderbuss, but has something to do with sniffing out trends. After the jump, Rushfield shows he has a sense of humor about dumb questions pertaining to LA's wastelandness and his days working at a home improvement trade magazine.

Careful, dear readers. There's math ahead. Something about inflation and "textual variations." I know it hurts, my pretties. But stick with it and you will learn much in the 5X5 Interview ahead. For example, how to properly flip someone off, like, say, people who use words like "textual variations." Jump with us to the next page where filmmaker Adam Blank takes us on a reminiscent-tour of Des Moines and Portland, wishes to wash the Earth clean of things he can't do, and professes his love for wee men like Peter Dinklage.

Last week when riding in the Gawker car service to the HQ, there came from underground a terrible rumble. When asked what it was, the driver snorted and replied through thinly veiled animosity, "The subway." Interesting, but not for us. It is, though, for David Israel, who has a terrific understanding of this blue-collared mode of transportation. Seems the man finds much inspiration in it and fashioned a screenplay out of his interests. After the jump, the author tells you about this, as well as talking to sheep and shutting down strip clubs with a hidden Dictaphone. You pervs, we know what you're thinking.

Short and a little bit sweet, that's Stacey Grenrock Woods. Or at least that's how she answered our questions — a gal of her domineering stature wouldn't deign to meet in person. Unless, of course, she had been able to break from the iron cage she lives in with Louis Black over at "The Daily Show." Stacey also frolicks about Esquire, where she's currently doing time as the resident sex columnist. After the jump, Stacey gives a wee glimpse into the more mundane things on a sexpert's mind, like oatmeal. Actually, that could be dirty too. Hmm.

We love free newspapers. They're just right for wrapping dead fish and delicate glassware. Just perfect for cleaning those grubby windows. They provide ample amounts of deviant sexual hotline numbers for when you're lonely. But it's doubtful that's what Russ Smith had in mind for his beloved New York Press, where he still pens the hell-bent weekly Mugger column, despite having sold the paper and moved to Maryland (we don't actually know where or what that is, but Russ seems to like it). After the jump, allow Russ to scare the hell out of you and your silly politics.

You can be pretty sure that it was Kitty Kelly's next project, but David Itzkoff got there first: a behind-the-scenes tell-all book about working as an editor at Maxim mag, aptly-titled Lads. Now, we're not saying being a Maxim editor is an oxymoron, but — oh hell, of course it is. Itzkoff realized the same and has thus moved on to Spin. Dave puzzlingly agreed to a 5X5 interview via an intermediary at the Bureau of Witness Protection — that fatwa Felix Dennis issued is good for another six months. After the jump, Dave recites facts about Chuck Klosterman, how New Orleans stacks up against E3, and some mumbo jumbo text-book speak about his regrets. Shit, this might get sincere.

All girls want to grow up to be princesses, but few have the balls to go to town once they put on the gown. Instead, they spend their time crying forlornly and wandering around Barney's. Princess Superstar took the pumpkin carriage by the reigns and crowned herself. Girls, take a page from this DJs fairy tale: Ordinary living just don't cut it. Check out the 5X5 re-mix after the jump.

Do you call your girlfriend every time you see a D-level celeb on the streets of SoHo? Well, John Sellers is laughing at you. Or possibly mad at you. This inimitable writer (GQ, TimeOut, and a book about arcade games) and angry blogger has dined with Gary Busey, gotten his hair done by the Queer Eyes, and still finds time to get ticked off about the most minor of things (e.g., "My ears are all stuffed up. Can't hear a damn thing. Fucking ears!"). After the jump, he talks about beating Jack Black at thumb wrestling and his own personal refusal to give in to a losing argument.