Well, you voted, and we, uh, thought long and hard. The submitter of the poll-winning tip — about how SNL batshit-crazy talent wrangler Marci Klein's sabotage "recommendation" backfired — will join us, Page Six's high-energy gossip monger Paula Froelich, and the Village Voice tipster over some free, free cocktails in the New Year. We can hardly contain our excitement.
Reminder: you have one day left to select the, uh, winner of our Media Mole Rodeo contest. As of now it looks like the Bill O'Reilly fart-news provider is running a close second to the anonymous Marci Klein disliker in the race to see who gets to endure two hours of uncomfortable silences with the editors of Gawker and Page Six's Paula Froelich. (Actually, scratch that: There are no silences when Paula Froelich's around.) But the polls are still open: Make your voice heard!
The Media Mole Rodeo has received quite a few entrants, some more luscious and lascivious than others. Of the eligible anecdotes (barring disqualification), two lucky contestants will "enjoy" free drinks with Gawker staff types and Page Six's Paula Froelich. One winner will be chosen by your editors, and the other will be chosen by you. Consult the poll below and pick the best of the finalists. Then let's get ready to put this year to bed, in every sense possible.
The Media Mole Rodeo is fast reaching the final rounds, but we still want your precious, precious anecdotes. Send your worm's-eye NYC media stories to mole@gawker.com for a chance at free beverages — with alcohol! — to be enjoyed in the company of bitter Gawker types and the relentlessly upbeat Paula Froelich of Page Six. This morning's missive is another look at the NBC page program, specifically at Saturday Night Live. Prepare yourself for a very imbalanced ratio of minor-key interesting reminiscence versus goopy nostalgia and coming-of-age treacle. You be the judge if the nip slip cancels out the Tangerine Dream, but at least there's drugs.
The hour draws on apace when we'll have to pick a winner of this Media Mole Thingding. We waded once more through the onslaught of submissions and picked out a doozy — an addendum to yesterday's post about SNL's talent exec, Marci Klein — and her big-boobed fetish. This one adds another layer of bad-boss grossness, though — we think it'll be right up your alley. And remember to keep sending in your moleish goodies — you wouldn't want to miss out on an opportunity to inoculate yourself against the possibility of future Page Six mentions by hanging out with Paula Froelich, you scandalous thing.
As if you needed reminding, Gawker is spending the week corralling media moles, the poor, pissed-on peons of the "glamorous" world that is New York media. Share your personal tale of bad behavior with us and become eligible for a prize that will only be tolerable due to the participation of foul-mouthed Post gossip Paula Froelich (or the rumored non-participation of Gawker editor Alex Balk). This morning's installment comes from the world of fashion; specifically, the world of Fashion Week, an event staged primarily for the snack-and-yack segment of the twiterati. After the jump, a stylist to the stars turns out to be - against all odds - something of a douchebag.
Giving voice to the subsumed lore of the underclass, the Gawker Media Mole Rodeo encourages your submissions of personal stories from the front (or rear) lines of the fabulous New York media lifestyle experience. We'll continue running candidates all this week; before the holidays, we'll re-run favorites for reader vote on which tipster wins the markedly dubious honor of enjoying free drinks with Gawker editors and Page Six's Paula Froelich. Send your mole tales to mole@gawker.com, post-haste. For this installment, let's return to the timely topic of media holiday parties, and misty water-colored memories:
We've continued to enjoy staring into the screaming id-stream that is the Gawker Media Mole inbox, so we thought we'd share another nugget of the joy with you today. Please keep in mind that all too soon we're going to have to pick a winner or two, and those lucky kids will be held down and forced to consume alcohol in our company and that of Page Six's Paula Froelich. Doesn't that make you want to give up some mole-y goods? Well, just in case, here's the address. After the jump, a dispatch from the beginning of the dark days at the Voice. Michael Musto sobbing at his desk isn't even the best part!
Your lurid first-hand accounts involving the New York media world continue to horrify and transfix us. As your anecdotes of media twattery proceed to pile up, we grow ever closer to the moment where the best bit of gossip is given its due, and its gossiper given a prize, if you consider free drinks with a bunch of Gawker editors and Paula Froelich a prize. So if you havent' already, tell your tale out of school here. After the jump, a lovely tale about uberflack Peggy Siegal, with special guest appearances by Anna Wintour, Meryl Streep, Patrick McMullan and that chick who wrote Devil Wears Prada.
We asked, and you have answered. Your tales of woe have us thanking our lucky, lucky stars that the word assistant is no longer in our vocabularies. Please keep in mind that we, and you, will be selecting a pair of winners who will have the unprecedented opportunity to get wasted with Gawker editors and Page Six moue Paula Froelich. You wouldn't want to miss that, would you? No, you wouldn't. Send your tips to mole@gawker.com.
Well, we asked you to send us "lurid first-hand accounts involving the New York media world," and you sure as hell did. Sure, some of them were forwarded emails that have been floating around forever (for the record: Linda Clark = crazy bitch; assistant = needs to learn to take a hint), but others were news to us, man. A couple of the top mole contenders so far are after the jump. Remember, we — and you — will select a pair of winners eventually, and these lucky moles will have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to find out what happens when Gawker editors and Page Six's Paula Fro get all drunk and loose-lipped. Super exciting, no? (If you'd rather have your booze 'to go,' we're sure that can be arranged, too.) You can't win if you don't play! Send your tips to mole@gawker.com.
The Media Mole Rodeo is in full effect — underappreciated media workers, keep sending your stories of frustrated angst to mole@gawker.com. Meanwhile, at the prudent suggestion of our friends at Consumerist, we decided to cobble together a short primer on how to tip without getting burned. After all, much as we want your secret knowledge, we'd hate to see anyone get canned. After the jump, a few simple precautions for the uninitiated on leaking like a pro while still drawing that hott but very low five-figure media salary.
As you know, Gawker lives and lives well off a steady diet of your tips. We can't thank you enough really, but the sad truth is that a brief, anonymous, congratulatory, virtual nod is the only thanks our tipsters ever receive. We'd like to change that, in our small and fatuous way. So allow us to introduce the Media Mole Rodeo, a contest designed to reward the lowliest and least appreciated underlings in New York's media hive. Editorial assistants, executive secretaries, interns, mail carriers, on-call fluffers — this is your time. What we want: your personal stories and anecdotes from the bowels of NYC media, involving boldface names, managerial misconduct, sexual impropriety, abuse of personnel and resources — all the usual bedtime material. The coveted prize: drinks with a deputation of Gawker editors, plus Page Six's Paula Froelich. We'll pick up the tab for as long as we can all mutually stand each other's company, so consider the prize a sort of endurance bonus round. Details after the jump, plus a pump-priming appetizer.
