Notorious Party Crasher Gets Drunk, Goes Ape Shit On Us

Here at GofG, we've grown accustomed to the usual faces one can find frequenting New York's poshest events. But an underbelly of creatures lies in the penumbra of nightlife earning notoriety through sheer shadiness. We caught up with Priyantha Silva, one such bête noire, last night

The Jets Tear up The Pierre event-- a fashion show to raise money for the Robin Hood and PROS foundations --lent the occasion for us to reflect on the varied echelons of nightlife creatures.

In the party circuit's hierarchy (the Great Chain of Being, say), first and foremost, there are the VIPs -- the A-list celebrities: pop stars, athletes, and actors. Next come the B- andC-list celebrities -- the garden variety of rich folk famous for this reality show or that obscure business company: Upper East Siders, models, and housewives. They serve as interesting filler. But all the way toward the bottom of the totem pole, below even the starry-eyed fan hoping to get an autograph, one can find those attendees who aren't even guests from the get-go. These are the shameless event crashers. The random, but sly, uninvited guy who slips past security so as to, well… we're not really sure why he does it. Is it for the free open bar, the chance to meet someone famous, the adrenaline?

Cue Priyantha Silva. At about 5'5 and flabbily be-paunched, he's the ideal stature and build for a crasher (short enough to get shrouded by the taller crowd), innocuously slipping in under the radar. He's a staple on the party scene, noted for his slippery ways and unctuous party demeanor (not to mention his profuse and stankity sudations). He also inflects a most appropriate accent -- somewhat exotic, somewhat obnoxious, of undetectable origin -- making him seem like somebody of importance. But other than his height and accent, who is he really? What's his name? What's his purpose? How is it that he blends in so smoothly?

He's an alluring wanna-be hombre sin nombre, and we couldn't but approach him to find out more.

Last night, we found Silva found sharing a few cocktails with a stylish cluster of women in sleek dresses. He was clearly inebriated,  and when  we asked for an interview, he told us not to worry about it and requested that we go talk to somebody else. He showed significant aggression toward us, stating, "Guest of a Guest will be out of business in three months." He guaranteed it. We couldn't but laugh.

Silva's brazenness is nothing new. He's attempted to present himself, among other identities, as a high level editor--a perpetual chameleon poseur.

Realizing his growing antagonism, we thought it best to cut to the chase and ask him our main question: why attend so many high society events as an uninvited guest? What is his modus frickin' vivendi?

Here's where we learned something interesting about him,though we're not sure his claim's validity. Apropos of nothing, he threatened us: "I hope [Guest of a Guest] has money, more than Radar Online, to pay me when I sue them."

Sue us? Really? For allegedly slandering a misleading non-entity?

He went on to say how he sued Radar and that he made the outlet go bankrupt.

"I sued the publisher, Maer [Roshan]. I won. Now he's bankrupt forever."

Ignoring his commentary, we inquired as to his vocational pursuits: what the hell does he do for a living? This is when something snapped in his head. He grabbed one of our cameras, expressed a desire to break it, and raised his cocktail glass, threatening to chuck it at us. Fortunately for us, we managed to get some decent, and might we add, appropriate, photos of this guy. Note the creepiness that exudes from his partly shaven head.

Ultimately, it seems he's a poor man's Salahi. Judging by how many cocktails he drank, and how unfriendly he was toward the camera, we're guessing his main purpose for crashing events is for the free booze or the chicks. Either that, or he's simply bored.

[The Anatomy of a Priyantha Silva Party Crash]

[Con Man Priyantha Silva Still Wants You in His Movie]