Toby Young, on the ruckus at his book party, and as reported in Lowdown:
It sure wasn’t Norman Mailer bouncing his Scotch glass off Gore Vidal‘s head. But writers Ian Spiegelman and Doug Dechert brawling at Soho House — pushing, shoving and flinging insults — was more than enough to make Toby Young‘s book party a rousing success. Young is the mischievous Brit whose new memoir, “The Sound of No Hands Clapping,” follows his 2002 chronicle of life at Vanity Fair, “How to Lose Friends and Alienate People.”
Spiegelman is the former Page Six staffer who was fired by the New York Post two years ago after his bosses learned — from this column — of his threatening, obscene E-mail to Dechert in a dispute over a young lady.
Apparently, they hadn’t spoken since — not until their fateful encounter at Soho House the other night.
According to witnesses, Spiegelman fortified himself with a few stiff drinks before confronting Dechert, demanding satisfaction.
He called his nemesis something unprintable. Dechert responded in kind. Then, according to the definitive account by Gawker.com correspondent Neel Shah, “Spiegelman proceeded to lightly bump Dechert, initiating some sort of violent lambada, but Dechert refused to shove back. … Not one to back down from a challenge, Marty McFly Spiegelman proceeded to shove Dechert with both hands.”
(Afterward, Spiegelman claimed to a Lowdown spy: “I smashed him three times in the head. He kept saying ‘Not here, man, not here.'” Spiegelman paused here to swig his drink. “I hit him eight times!”)
Young’s wife, Caroline, the mother of their two young children, bravely intervened to break it up. “Either stop fighting or leave,” she scolded.
At which her husband cried: “Are you insane? This is great publicity!”
the worker back in February paid the hydro bill, but structured it as a loan, with repayments. She deducted 75% of my monthly cheque for each of the next three months, leaving me significantly less than $65 from which to buy food and pay my $65 per month hydro bill, and making the current situation inevitable. As she well knew.
Well, not in so many words, but you get the drift.
Have you ever wondered what would have happened if Stuart Townsend had not been fired from The Lord of the Rings shoot and replaced with Viggo Mortensen? Wondered, perhaps, how the film would have been different with Cher, perhaps, instead of Cate Blanchett as Galadriel? Or perhaps your thoughts turn to more slackerish, dark corners. What if, ferinstance, Kevin Smith directed 
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