Even the Waverly Inn, Graydon Carter's restaurant, is falling on hard times: They can't even afford the phone! Kidding, kidding. It's part of the Wavery's insidery charm to not have a public phone number, because it is above mere mortal dining establishments. And eateries that are technically not open needn't keep a landline. Like destitute New Yorkers.

But when people have started tightening their belt at an establishment that serves fifty-five dollar mac and cheese, it portends doom for all of New York's glitter-and-shitter-ati.

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Supposedly, it's Graydon Carter's idea to make VanityFair.com more of a destination site. Err, rather: "A fun, funny, spunkier version of the magazine." Okay! So that explains why the new site "will include regular weekly postings of events and increase its coverage of A-list diners at the Waverly Inn to a few times a month on the restaurant's un-bylined blog." As if Mediabistro's list of Michael's patrons weren't grating enough.

WAVERLY INN'S NEW GATEKEEPER Start phoning David Foxley to make your reservations. The New York Observer feature writer is Graydon Carter's new assistant. [P6]

• It's official, you need to be on hallucinogens to appreciate the food at the Waverly Inn.

• Jerry Seinfeld discovers the best way to market his family-friendly bee movie: make unfunny jokes about bees raping each other.

• Jodie Foster has lots of love from the lesbians, despite the fact that she still refused to admit she's one of them.

• Damon Wayans to stop reliving his In Living Color glory days? Unfortunately, "homie don't play that."

• You wouldn't believe how many different ways there are of spoiling your pooch. Unfortunately for Rover, you can't afford any of them.

Sick and tired about reading about Graydon Carter's uber-exlusive media hotspot? Then you may want to cancel those subscriptions to Vogue and GQ, stop buying Bon Appetit and Gourmet and quit flipping through that months-old issue of Details in your dermatologist's waiting room.

Oh, and while you're at it, steer clear of WWD's Memo Pad. Because, as we've now seen on several occasions, the buck does not stop there.

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Then you've noticed we opened this month's GQ finally, haven't ya? And what'd we find, there on page 84? Style editor Adam Rapoport's blowjobby howdy to The Waverly Inn, eatery of a certain Conde Nast editor-in-chief that pops up a few times a week in certain gossip columns.

It's the type of FOB piece that screams "food editorial!" while also announcing "Jim Nelson would like a better table at the restaurant, or at least not to be bumped when Liev Schreiber calls to say he's on the way."

That, or the magazine really, really likes their biscuits.

While we hate to trouble you with hard news late in the day on a Friday afternoon, the reviews are starting to come in for Graydon Carter's Waverly Inn, and they're somewhat less than favorable.

One Jossip spy rants about the food but raves about the A-list clientèle. "Yeah, the food is terrible, but the celeb sightings are priceless–like the credit card commercials."

And while pretty much everyone agrees that the secretive dining establishment boasts an impressive assortment of bold-faced names, there's also a fairly strong consensus that the food is overpriced and (dare we say it??) undercooked. Our tipster brags about close encounters of the Barack Obama, Catherine Zeta Jones and Michael Douglas kind, but laments that her stomach was practically growling loudly enough to disturb the other extremely famous and important patrons. But seriously, how bad was the food?

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