Thanks to this week's sponsors, our blogging fingers remain safe from Jared Leto. Care to join them? More info here.

Sadly, we have no Lloyd Grove for you on this fine brisk Monday. And we'd like to sincerely thank our pal and yours, spinachdip, for bringing the pain as last week's guest editor. Taking spinachdip's place this week will be ... spinachdip. That's right — we just wanted more of that creamy chalky goodness, and we think you do too. Mr. Spinachdip will in fact be with us for the remainder of this fine October month, so enjoy the autumn of his discontent for the next week and change.

Thanks to this week's sponsors, who know how to handle a fine work of art. Care to participate? More info here.

So if you're a New York baseball fan of any variety your last remaining postseason hopes died last night on Carlos Beltran's called third strike. But fear not, New Yorkers: Much like walking angioplasty advertisement Tommy Lasorda, we're here to tell you that even though the Mets and Yankees are out of the playoffs, you still have a reason to watch the World Series. As it turns out, an editor of this site is, for reasons too complicated and extensive to go into here, a longtime fan of the Detroit Tigers. The editor of Deadspin (pictured above), Gawker Media's sports blog, is, for reasons of geography, a fan of the St. Louis Cardinals, Motown's Series rival. Much like publicity-seeking big city mayors who engage in jerkoff bets in the hopes of favorable news coverage, these two editors have also engaged in a wager, the terms of which are this: The editor whose team loses the Fall Classic will, on the Tuesday after the competition's conclusion, be forced to cover not only his own site's post requirements, but additionally pick up the other guy's posts for the day. So if you hate our guts and would much prefer to have the dynamic Mr. Leitch guest here for a day, you'll be rooting for the Tigers. Conversely, should you wish to see how we handle pictures of drunken backup QBs, you'll be pulling for the Cardinals. Who will prevail? Will it be Balk and human chimney Jimmy Leyland of the Tigers or Leitch and Tony "My only World Series win required an act of God" LaRussa of the Cards? Ultimately, the only real losers are the readers.

As part of our commenting initiatives, we periodically reiterate for novice and senile readers the way our glorious commenting perestroika works. "How," you ask, "can I become a member of exclusive, rarefied star chamber known as the Gawker commenting community?"

We'd like to mention that these regular culls do seem to be having an overall positive effect. Granted, we are merely chipping off the very point of the tip of the massive iceberg of commenters, but for the very first time, we actually had to consider for a moment who should get the ax. Only for a very brief moment, mind you, but that's a sea change from having to decide among dozens of killworthy nominees. For those of you still alive, keep up the great work. Enough with the carrot; time for the stick.

So, you may not have known this, but Friday was the final day of Jess Coen's tenure as editor at Gawker. (Don't feel bad, there wasn't much mention of it in these parts.) In an oddly uncharacteristic display of affection for his employees, Gawker publisher Nick Denton opened his home to the various hordes who had come to celebrate J. Co's departure. As is his wont, Denton left around eight for a better party, thus missing the ancient Gawker tradition wherein the departing editor shears mascot Andrew Krucoff's hair. Since Elizabeth Spiers first gave Andrew a buzz-cut back in 2003, each editor signals the end of his tenure by symbolically shedding his or her ties to the company. After the jump, we share the evidence of this touching ceremony.

It's always darkest before the dawn. We laughed, we cried, we said goodbye, and now here we are on a bright new shiny Monday like all the rest. We promise to have big, scary announcements sometime very soon, i.e. between the end of this sentence and the start of 2007. But let's focus on the short-term. As discussed, recently decanted New York Daily News gossip columnist Lloyd Grove will today be answering your questions about this business, his and ours; feel free to pepper him with enquiries at asklloyd@gawker.com. Furthermore, all this week, we'll be joined by the blogging sensation known as Spinachdip, who'll be taking a turn on the dance floor for your delectation. And by all means, keep those tips coming to tips@gawker.com, since your emails are the vital fluid that sustains our shriveled hearts.

Brace yourselves, because here comes the sincere part. I've no idea what to say, actually. Let's be honest: I'm pretty choked up right now and I have no business writing this site if all I'm going to do is blubber at my keyboard. One of the worst things about working from home is that I'm all alone, and there's nobody around to smack me. Or pour me drinks.

This past Monday saw the final departure of Lloyd Grove from his "Lowdown" gossip column at the New York Daily news. But don't fret — the man's not dead, he's merely resting. And where better to rest than by way of a guest column on Gawker? One could certainly allow that we are "multimedia, with components of Internet and television and print media," which is how Grove described his next secret gig. We got all kinds of components. One of those components will be next week's very special episode, where Grove will answer questions regarding everything you ever wanted to know about the gossip business. How does one trudge through all this filth, day after day? When is it permissible to sleep with a source? What color is Mort Zuckerman's rainbow? Send your own queries to asklloyd@gawker.com. He'll pick his favorites and respond on Monday. So be nice, and try not to stare.

Thanks to this week's motley advertising crue, whose dollars help Nick Denton to buy his Cirrus SR20. Interested? More info here.

At least with the Post's Star Map, we understood what they were ripping off.

Whatever interactive media InterActiveCorp overlord Barry Diller enjoys, it's apparently got nothing to do with Craigslist, or Gawker. Seeking a new executive assistant for Diller, an IAC human resources staffer advertised for the job on tha C-list — totally within bounds, reportedly, for non-confidential positions. We ran the ad here, as we often do for job listings relating to those powerful enough to squash us like the bugs we are. But it turns out the first rule of Barry Diller Club is, you do not talk about Barry Diller Club. The apparent abject humiliation of having the assistant ad on Gawker generated a pulse of executive rage from Diller's office all the way down to the HR caves, where the unfortunate staffer was promptly canned. Just makes working closely with Diller as his assistant sound so much more appealing.

We've enjoyed a lively stream of replies and insults to our original call for contributions to the forthcoming Gawker book, but there's still a bit of room to fill between gutter and margin. Your input is most humbly resolicited, and though potential compensation is limited to recognition and a copy of said book (should we use you), it's not like you're occupied with more important duties. What, you think we're insensitive to the irony of mocking blog book deals while assembling a Gawker book? That's a whole chapter right there, pal. Never underestimate our ability to detect faint signs of life worth bludgeoning out of a supposedly posthumous horse. After the jump, discover our particular spheres of inquiry, plus a submission form. We've even resolved the submission form's technical kinks that thwarted a few well-meaning interactors during the first go-round, so get with the program.

As part of our commenting initiatives, we periodically reiterate for novice and senile readers the way our glorious commenting perestroika works. "How," you ask, "can I become a member of exclusive, rarefied star chamber known as the Gawker commenting community?"

Were it possible, our advertisers would adopt every orphaned child in Malawi. Want to do something good for humanity? More info here.

Welcome back to the comment execution terrordrome. Before we start chopping, some small advice — patience. Sometimes your comments are posted immediately. Sometimes it may take the system a few moments to digest your comment, once saved. No need to madly repaste your comment and save again, resulting in the public shame of a double-posted comment. We wouldn't be so cruel as to execute for such, but then, we've been punished for our forbearance in the past. Things could change. Meanwhile, the names of the dead:

A breathy thanks to this week's sponsors, most of whom are financial backers of every Meatpacking District venue we've mentioned this week. Interested in our dirty machinations? More info here.

After over two years and somewhere around 6000 items, I'm finally selling out. Don't get me wrong — I've been trying to sell out for ages, but no publisher seems interested in my haphazardly written roman clef about a silly girl who moves from LA to New York to write some crazy media gossip blog and eventually discovers herself while learning some really valuable life lessons.

Sure, it's not us reporting, you deciding, or any variation thereof, but it's a beginning. One of our favorite kinds of emails — and it's a species we see with startling regularity — is an indignant j'accuse that reads, "Why haven't you posted yet about X?" Or, "I can't believe you haven't covered Y yet!" Or, "Would you please write something about Z? I can't stand Z and want to see it made fun of, real hard like." Usually, these objects of reader desire are either (a) subjects we have, in fact, already posted about, or (b) would never post about, because they fall outside our sphere of interest, or (c) are retarded. Still, we think there may be a way to productively channel this sort of enthusiasm.