<![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, shiners]]> http://tags.gawker.com/assets/base/img/thumbs140x140/gawker.com.png <![CDATA[Gawker: defamer, shiners]]> http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/shiners http://gawker.com/tag/defamer/shiners <![CDATA[Cold-Cocking Jesse Metcalfe: Famous Person Eats Knuckle-Sandwich!]]> The cold-cocking of a minor celebrity outside a swanky Hollywood nightclub is hardly an uncommon experience, yet every time you see one—and thanks to TMZ's sleep-deprived video stormtroopers you are about to—it's as if you're experiencing the exhilarating adrenalin rush for the very first time.

What, exactly, caused a friendly sidewalk exchange between Jesse Metcalfe and Taryn "Hustle & Flow" Manning to result in a knuckle-sammy to the meticulously manicured face of the career-doomed Desperate Housewives gardener, we perhaps shall never know. Even more tragically, all dreams of meting out some D-list street-justice were dashed by club security, who held Metcalfe back, telling him to "Sh-sh-sh...Bouts over pretty-boy," before patting him on his crispy hair and sending him on his way.

]]> http://gawker.com/index.php?op=postcommentfeed&postId=354331&view=rss&microfeed=true <![CDATA[Bravo Exec Would Like You To Keep Your Probing Questions About His Domestic Life To Yourselves, Please]]> shiner.jpgWe feel it is our duty to pay semi-regular visits to Andy Cohen—cutthroat Bravo TV executive by day, blogger extraordinaire by night—but after a year of following his name-droppy exploits, we reluctantly have to admit that we're still not entirely sure what his job entails. (It's almost definitely something reality-TV-related.) In today's installment, Andy practically does backflips over Top Chef Day in New York City ("Literally. We have a certificate from the Mayor or Deputy Mayor or someone saying it is so!"), conjuring nightmarish images of a sparsely attended Top Chef parade down Fifth Avenue, featuring Godzilla-sized Padma Lakshmi and Tom Colicchio floats terrorizing children as far away as New Jersey. It's not long, however, before Andy shifts gears to topics far closer to his heart—dermatology and the gym:

Like many of you, I find it hard to sleep on Top Chef Day in NYC. I'm like a kid on Christmas morning, so I started the day early at Equinox.

I have something of a black eye because of a sun freckle I had lasered off at my dermo, which again crosses the bounds of TMI. So four people at the gym asked me how I got the black eye. I knew two of the questioners and two were complete strangers. I told the two amigos that my boss hit me. I told the two strangers that it was a long and upsetting story.

I think it is dumb to ask someone you don't know how they got a black eye. "My lover hits me." Is that what you want to hear? Here's another dumb question: "are your parents alive?" What might the payoff be to that question if the answer is "no"?

Kudos to Andy for proudly braving the withering gaze of the Equinox crowd with his "sun-freckle-removal injury" on full display. A lesser blogging TV executive might have wrapped themselves in a babuskha and giant pair of Jackie O.'s, avoiding all eye contact as they silently mounted an elliptical crosstrainer for their morning's cardio regimen.

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