Richard Blakeley, boyfriend of the year, was arrested for something.

As mentioned earlier in a blind item, Blakeley was allegedly recently arrested for assaulting his long-time girlfriend. Case details on public record here.

Update:

And another update:

From what I understand, a Class A Misdemeaner in New York carries a possible sentence of up to one year of jail time. On the flip side, they can impose less, including no jail time. It appears to be up to the judge presiding over the case.

Rachel Sklar, person who writes stuff about something for something, continues to encourage shameless attention and swag whore Julia Allison in her bad behavior:

Me: “How do you always get to sit in the front row?” @JuliaAllison: “Because I won’t sit anywhere else.” Aaah, so THAT’s it.about 1 hour ago from mobile web

That’s right Rachel! Validate her actions! In fact, aspire to emulate her! Imply that you envy her! I would do it but I get my period every time I hear another “I’m so awesome I just elbow my way to the front and everyone” episode from Julia. I’d write more but I have to skip to the Dollar Tree for more Acme Tampons.

Poor antikris person. She can’t seem to drop the Cosbys off at the pool. Maybe she’s all stopped up because she’s so…angry:

Ok people
There are times when something needs to be said, and there are times where what you’d love to say, although brilliant, is not necessary. It doesnt mean you are a self hater, that you are passive aggressive , etc…Sometimes, your shooting off of the mouth is just not the right action.  That is all.  I was basically saying I am a huge c**t with a lot to say about a lot of people and it bothers me that common courtesy wont allow me to just walk around with constant diarrhea of the mouth.  That is it.  That is all.  Blow me, suck a dick, eat my balls.

Has she thought about exploring Franzia and Pall Malls instead of IPA and cloves to deal with her emotions? Hey I get all up in my barn voice too, honey, but a valium and a glass of white zin clears it right up. At the very least you might pass out and those in your zip code won’t have to hear your screams of rage!

batflapsallison is taking the life change afforded her by her three days hole on Blueprint Cleanse seriously.

Thanks to Brian for taking this picture before the concert started today!  This is what I look like after only a long night of drinking and only one latte.

Radiant health: this is the proof of the Blueprint Cleanse shown us by both of the Allisons. Excuse me while I order my own cleanse!

I know I said I was taking the day off, but when this was sent to me it was too funny to ignore.

Richard Blakely continues to search for a special person to let him have but one room to sleep in. His previous request for a place in the east village being ignored, he has deigned to offer Brooklyn his glorious presence.

Don’t everyone rush to offer him your futon at once now.

Oh I won’t explain that reference. Go rent DICK and figure it out. Annnnywhoodle. I was bored as a eunuch on the moon today so I did a little digging into what my sources mentioned to me.

Seems someone has in fact been slithering about seeking a new residence:

Now, he either plans on hiding his evening gowns and high heels for special dress up alone time, or some reason must exist that is forcing him to seek a new place to live. Perhaps the answer is in someone’s newly updated Facebook Status?

She was born in Virginia? What the hole? Oh, sorry. Anyway, status is now “Single”. Sources say she and her beau were very much all over each other as of a month ago, and more recently she put down large sums for a yacht birthday party for her now trim Tyson.

This could be a case of putting together information to form a pattern (does that make me a Census computer?) or it could be the opening of a story that a lot of people seem determined to squash. Either way, I’m less bored now.

Paul Carr, TechCrunch’s worst decision to date (although that’s not saying much), has turned on his ’13 year old girl getting her first period’ voice.

When I wrote the last book, thanks to the events described in it, I had no job, no female distractions, no interest in socialising; really no inclination at all to leave my flat in East Dulwich. At the time, I hated it. I was miserable. But my God was I productive…

This time I’m also living in hotels…and not one of them – not one – boasts a comfortable work space. Beds, yes; bathtubs, certainly. But desks and chairs? Forget it.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not sure what has changed. He’s still a miserable limey with no real demands on his time. Oh wait, I see! It’s that geedee twitter that’s the culprit!

NCIS is on. A friend emails with plans for this evening. Something happens on Twitter. Distractions distractions distractions.

Now I understand. Fucking twitter and emails from your one friend. Does the world not understand you have The Great Douchebag Novel to pen? Oh well, surely after taking care of such pressing things as getting some coffee, watching Sliders reruns, and popping off 140 characters of your razor sharp lolarity, you can hunker down to work!

My sandwich has arrived. There goes the afternoon.

Forget it. I tried to be understanding, but you’re a tool. Just write, Paul! You aren’t crafting the Most Important Book Of Our Time here. It’s just another table leveler full of run on sentences about Paul Carr.

Christ, seriously. I am sick of these professional jackasses whining about how hard their creative process of watching tv and bortching to Lucita about the empty mini-bar is.  I have a full time job, and I SOMEHOW manage to see to three blogs, twitter, and 3 email accounts. If you can’t manage to scrounge up a chapter a week in addition to the verbal colon cleanse you call your column, then you picked the wrong career. Just admit it already!