The 16th Street Mall today was the same mess it’s been for a week: ugly T-shirts, people selling ugly T-shirts, and bewildered delegates and staffers haggling over a final-day discount on said ugly T-shirts.

I dropped in to see my buddy Biker Jim at Biker Jim’s Gourmet Dogs in Skyline Park, and even though he was out of Obama Lamba Ding Dongs (“Sold like hotcakes, dude. Have I showed you my sign? Check it out. My sign painter did a good job, huh? Course, the first one he did, he misspelled ‘sausage’ but whatever…”) I still managed to score an excellent jalapeno-cheddar elk sausage with sriracha and mustard.

Spike Lee, with relish.

In the few minutes before Bill Clinton spoke at the Democratic National Convention on Wednesday night, I was inching along the perimeter of the floor in the same type of delegate scrum I'd experienced the night before when the Pepsi Center started vomiting celebrities. Suddenly, I was literally bumping into Tim Daly, of Wings and The Sopranos fame, followed by Anne Hathaway (she's tiny) and Ellen Burstyn, who seemed pretty fragile. I hope none of the heftier representatives crushed her.

As soon as Clinton wrapped, I headed up and out of the venue's main bowl, figuring that witnessing Joe Biden trying to follow that act would be a bit like watching U2 fail to measure up to Rage Against the Machine. (I saw this last scenario back in the '90s; it can't be Bono's finest memory.) I miscalculated, of course: Had I stuck around, I would have caught Barack Obama's unannounced appearance live instead of on the tube. Oh, well. Hopefully I'll see him today at Invesco Field -- from a really long distance away.

At any rate, I was heading toward the exit when I saw poor Spike Lee trying to put condiments on his hot dog while fending off not one, but two camera crews. Being famous anywhere can be a trial -- but being famous in Denver has got to be the drag of a lifetime. -- Michael Roberts

Bloggers of the world, unite.

The so-called "bloggers lounge" at the Pepsi Center during the Democratic National Convention, which I got a chance to eyeball on Wednesday, was a small room accessible through a door in the press room. The space was small, poorly lit, and had an ugly couch in one corner, as if the folks at the convention assumed that all bloggers really do live in basements and wanted them to feel at home. This stereotype is proving mighty tough to kill. -- Michael Roberts

"Type faster, damn you."

The Democratic National Convention press room was located deep in the guts of the Pepsi Center, and when I stopped by on Wednesday afternoon, nearly every seat was occupied -- and no one seemed to be having the slightest fun. It reminded me of the scene from The Producers when Matthew Broderick decided to stop being an office drone and live a very different dream, except without the moment of triumph or the catchy show tune to liven things up. Journalism fever: catch it. -- Michael Roberts

NBC's David Gregory.

During the Democratic National Convention, the back corridors of the Pepsi Center didn't only serve as a staging area for carefully planned "spontaneous" demonstrations. They also led to green rooms and dressing rooms for assorted media organizations -- and lucky thing. Over the past two days, I tried to take photos of a number of broadcast personalities with my bottom-of-the-line cell phone as I was being jostled on the arena floor, with predictable results. Did I capture Wolf Blitzer? Nope -- both shots were too blurry. Anderson Cooper? Saw him outside the CNN Grill, but when I snapped, my finger was partly over the aperture. Professional! Worst of all, my second attempt at memorializing the glory that is Fox News' Shepard Smith failed miserably. So thank you, David Gregory, of NBC fame, for standing still long enough to stay in focus. You're The Latest Word winner by default. -- Michael Roberts

Belly up to the bar.

After getting through the security line outside the Pepsi Center on Wednesday afternoon with much more ease than had been the case the day before, I decided to try out the pass I'd obtained for the CNN Grill, located in the Brooklyn's restaurant space. At first, my laminate seemed far less than magic; the guy at the door told me the main space was at capacity, but I could feel free to hang out on the patio -- which was a lot like lingering on the sidewalk, only with catering. Fortunately, the guard's supervisor gave me the nod when I told him I only wanted to look around for a few minutes, as opposed to sitting down and ordering a nine-course meal. And what did I discover? No broadcasts underway and no CNN celebrities (although I did spot Anderson Cooper on the way out). Instead, the place was a lot like going to Brooklyn's. Sometimes it's better to settle for your imagination... -- Michael Roberts

Please give generously.

Seen on Market Street en route to the Democratic National Convention festivities at the Pepsi Center on Wednesday. Hope everything worked out for this guy -- because clearly, the people of the Big Easy have suffered enough. -- Michael Roberts

As you can see, the elephant is topless.

Amid MSNBC's coverage of the Wednesday roll call of votes at the Democratic National Convention, a truck affiliated with a conservative organization -- I didn't catch the name -- rolled up to the curb opposite the net's headquarters to deliver the message, "Porn is Partisan" with the help of a jumbo blue elephant in the vehicle's bed. So no Republicans vote for video naughtiness by repeatedly pulling on a certain lever while surfing the net? Mmmm-kay. At any rate, the people inside didn't seem truly dedicated to disrupting the proceedings. After giving the truck's horn a shy toot-toot, they sped away -- or at least they went as fast as a truck with a giant inflated creature clnging to its rear can. Good one, guys. Now whenever I download porn, I'll fantasize about the stars of the show getting it on with pachyderms. Kinky! -- Michael Roberts

That's Pat Buchanan on the lower level of MSNBC's Election Express.

I arrived at MSNBC's Democratic National Convention headquarters about midway through the roll call of votes that finally resulted in the formal nomination of Barack Obama as the Dems' presidential standard-bearer. Speakers amplified the voices of co-hosts Chris Matthews and Keith Olbermann. The tops of their heads could be seen from a distance, but not by the throng of several hundred average folks -- supplemented by vendors and attention-seekers such as marijuana advocate Mason Tvert, who passed out pro-pot pamphlets -- gathered near the building's base. Strangely, though, creaky pundit Pat Buchanan was left sitting all by his lonesome at a table beneath the primary anchors, as if he was part of a really unpopular display at Madame Tussauds. He stayed in place for at least ten minutes, totally neglected, until a technician helped him up and led him away. Wonder what he did to get in so much trouble... -- Michael Roberts

Cindy Adams.

The Democratic National Convention in Denver. Denver's a cow town. Doesn't mean what we're going to see here is the milk of human kindness. Means like what's coming is a large load of bull. Having covered these rah-rah sis-boom-bah hoo-has since Lincoln's day, I tell you Denver's a real thrill. Especially since it recently plummeted to 100 degrees. The only little cool air comes from bumping into a Hillary supporter.

Denver's wonderful. Nice air. Unlike New York, you don't even see it. Your eye can find the sky. Your eye can find the sun. But besides that there's not lots to see. One of the highest structures around is a silo. --Cindy Adams, Page Six, New York Post, August 25

Smell that? That cloying stink of morbidity, gin-soaked taffeta and Geritol? Yeah, that means the New York Post’s very own Page Six Crypt Keeper has descended on our fair city to talk shit, embarrass herself and piss me off. She’s written three columns about Denver and the DNC since arriving in town, each of them done in the choppy, borderline-retarded style of prose she invented while writing stump speeches for Lincoln back in the day. I’ve collected a few of her best nuggets: