It's been far too long since we hunkered down with publicist-designer-Breck model Jonathan Cheban, right? Thankfully, our friends deep in the wilds of New Jersey have just discovered J-Chebs, who reveals the secrets of his style:

• Pity the fool who crosses the Robin to Lizzie Grubman's Batman. After his former client, Miami's Shelborne Hotel, reneges a free offer and ends up charging several luminaries for their hotel rooms, Jonathan Cheban uses Page Six to fight for the common man. No one will charge the Olsen twins $6000 dollars in hotel fees and get away with it! [Page Six]
• Supermodel Kate Moss is spotted out on the town with Johnny Knoxville. Not spotted: Moss' maybe-fiancé Pete Doherty, Knoxville's wife, or Jessica Simpson. [R&M (2nd item)]
• For an astronomical fee, Rudy Giuliani will gladly go to the site of terror attacks and comfort the locals. The question is, can you afford his affirmations of courage? [Scoop (2nd item)]
• Maybe it's just us, but we find it strangely amusing that director John Singleton is meeting with Paramount execs about hustlers selling pirated DVDs of his movie Hustle & Flow. [Lowdown]

· If there's such a place as hell, publicist Jonathan Cheban and his alleged lover, reality twig Brittny Gastineau, will hold court from a gilded raft floating along the river Styx. [Lowdown]
· Supermodel Maggie Rizer finally files suit against her stepfather, who gambled and drank away $3.5 million of her earnings. Rizer, however, is suing for $24 million — a fine example of model mathematics. [Page Six]
· If they report on the William Morris suit against the Post, will the Daily News will be served papers, too? [R&M (2nd item)]
· Jeanette Walls takes the bait, reports that Radar reports that J.Lo is a diva when it comes to her own documentary. Follow that? [Scoop]

· Jonathan Cheban gets the honor of being a Loathsome Leftover. Better late than never. [NY Press]
· Tomorrow's Times corrections are now available. [Politicker]
· Daily News editor Michael Cooke rapes and pillages the business section, leaves only personal finance behind. [E&P]
· Ashlee Simpson's backstage rider includes pickle relish and pre-recorded sequences. She HAS to lip-sync, it's in her contract! [TSG]
· Our favorite reader translation of the Tory Burch Haiku: "I live in a third floor walk-up and order Chinese a lot / I love J-Lo's Hats / I have no idea how to sew."

From left to right: Clarendon-clad Nicky Hilton picks her nose, Hilton wanders Rite Aid, and Anonymodel Greg wears my Clarendon sweatshirt.

I was sure I'd paid a lifetime's worth of journalistic dues after spending a strange Sunday evening with the inanely chipper celebu-lurker/frozen-food-flack Jonathan Cheban (despite the shiny hair, we're still pretty sure he's the fourth horseman of the publicist apocalypse). But once I received a package chock full of Cheban's Clarendon shirts (sized to fit), I realized the public deserved more. You're hungry. You know you want it, so please feast your eyes upon Cheban's designs, as worn by anonymodel Greg. We're sure you'll see plenty more of these spectacularly pricey cotton threads during Fashion Week, no?

OMG! BFF!!!

Now that Jonathan Cheban—the man who does, um, we dunno what—has been banned from VH1 for disrespecting talking-heads standards, we're a little worried. Sure, we like to poke fun at Jonny, but maybe it's gone too far? A sensitive soul points out the serious side of things:

From: Robert
To: Gawker
Date: 1.26.2005
Subject: Has Jonathan Cheban encountered murky waters?

Help me understand... Yes this guy Cheban is without doubt an industrial size tool, but what makes the vacuous, celebrity obsessed Gawker crew any different? Is this not the proverbial pot and black kettle scenario?

Has Jonathan Cheban encountered murky waters? Has his glossy status been penetrated? The repercussions of his prominent shilling in yesterday's Washington Post article lead us to believe that our favorite publicist/hanger-on/phone-lover might not be invincible:

"What's that, Lucifer? You want me to come to your son's surprise party? Oh, hold on, Winnie the Pooh is on line 2!"

Jonathan Cheban speaks out against PartyBuddys [sic], the nightlife assistance group that promises to help even the most pathetic person gain entry past the velvet ropes:

Sunday night, when we should have been home watching HBO's The Wire, we attended we attended the Intrigue/Gotham party for the NYC premiere of The Merchant of Venice starring Al Pacino, Jeremy Irons, Joseph Fiennes, and Lynn Collins. Held at the newly-opened and painfully-hyped Aer Lounge (in, our favorite, the Meatpacking District), it appeared that most of the cast and crew were in attendance (you try fighting a key grip for a spot at the bar). It's through this celebuhaze that Andrew Krucoff and photographer Nikola Tamindzic offer a visual sampling of the scene. (And yes, pictured above is professional arm candy Jonathan Cheban chatting up Kelly Osbourne.)

After the Observer ran a profile on "schmooze" master Jonathan Cheban, who professes to be first-name-basis friends with "MK" and the like, we realized that, in all likelihood, no one on earth likes this man. As such, another reader writes in with an account of Jonathan Cheban, dedicated celebufriend and coattail-rider of the rich and fabulous:

It's official: you love to hate Jonathan Cheban, the Nobody best known for hanging out with trashy Somebodies! A reader weighs in on our favorite man about town:

Good morning. Allow us to introduce you to Jonathan Cheban, who is, um, nobody, technically speaking, but has made a quasi-name for himself as the friend of such luminaries as Mischa Barton, the Olsens, and Lindsay Lohan. What does being a celebufriend entail? Take, for instance, a night at Marquee with Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie: