• by Kelly Samardak , June 11, 2008

In a world where the I Can Has Cheezburger guy can walk the same carpet as David Byrne, spikey-haired shy musical genius (have you played the building yet?), I'm glad I had my trusty camera to record some snippets to pinch myself with. Yes, last night was real, yes I asked Seth Meyers if it would make him uncomfortable if I told him I wanted to make sweet sweet love to him, and yes, having a chat with anyone from the Onion is both a fun yet paranoia-inducing experience. And this, my friends, is the Webbys.

I arrived early to check in and crash the pre-gala cocktail party. I mean, why sweat outside when you can be inside the financial museum (sexy, sexy) sipping Bellinis and accosting Webby winners and guests? Sometimes my brain is almost too large, I know. Neil Vogel was looking dapper as always with a personality cocktail of cool calm on the edge of slap-you-around. The tuna tartare server came by and I snatched a little round toast and chomped off a huge bite. AUGH! It was really warm. Did they stash them in an aviary before serving? It felt like geese eyeballs in my mouth. I popped a prosciutto-wrapped asparagus spear in to chase it away and wandered over to a gaggle of guys.

Crap! It's the guys from the Onion! I immediately put on my cloak of never-ending witticisms and started talking. Chris Karwowski, Senior Writer & News Producer at the Onion, would unfortunately NOT be attending the after-party due to an early-morning bris, hopefully not his. I backed away slowly, narrowing my eyes in suspicion as one Onionite began laughing. Was it at me? Ack, you just never know. Onto the show! I ran across the street to find my place LAST in line on the carpet. Boo.

The weather was perfect humid heavy New York City summer. Just sweaty enough to make everyone a little squirrely. Being inside Cipriani, with its Winnebago-sized chandelier and platters of good meat, felt less organic nerd celebrity and more big money corporate giant. I liked the underground feel of the Film and Video awards -- the whole geeks celebrating geeks -- not the designer dress and perfected girl swagger that sashayed past me in the lowly press outskirts. Once again the bloggers had to sit in steerage, not enough boats for us if the ship goes down. At least I was by the bar, where I drank my dinner and numbed my pain.

I slipped out early and took the 2 train to Hiro Ballroom for the after-party, where Ludacris was slated to hit the stage after his protégé Sneaky Pete to promote WeMIX.com (with co founder Matt Apfel), a songwriting and music creation community. Literally, you create, upload, mashup, fiddle, and bring out the funk. Bing bong boom, you're the next Tommy Lee.

I saw the wine flowing faster than Alex Albrecht running pantsless to retrieve his award, so I knew this crew would show up slightly pickled. Those crazy cats at ibm.com stumbled by, followed by some Onion dudes, Obama Girl again, oh, and Travis from Gym Glass Heroes with his gigantic teal body guard (who I nicknamed Big Tealy). I stood on the tiny red carpet line squashed between the great company of the official Webby after-party photog, the very thirsty and polite as your granny BET Black Carpet guys, and, sporadically, the official WEMIX.com camera crew -- and had an incredible night.

Thank you, Internet.

Want to give out awards and Bellinis and have it covered in Just An Online Minute? Send invitations to kelly@mediapost.com !

Peep the photos from this hot and heavy event (and the red carpet!)