Fail Occurred: 6/13/2012

Women, amirite? Can't live with 'em, can't whip bottles without 'em. (Is that how the saying goes?) Anyway, last summer, at Manhattan's appropriately-named nightclub W.i.P., the venue somehow seated Drake and Chris Brown (and their respective teams) directly opposite one another. Don't they keep up with the blogs?

It started off rather okay: Chris Brown supposedly sent a drink over to Drake's table. How nice! Until Drake allegedly sent it back with a note: "I am fucking the love of your life." ("Unfortunately, Drake did not mean Karrueche," said Karrueche to no one in her empty hotel room on any given day or night.) And it's like, who even knows if THAT was true, because Meek Mill was there and rumors were swirling that he'd been most recently in Rihanna's embraces.

Instead of sharing their iCal schedules, they calmly started throwing bottles at one another, leaving a dangerous walking area. Drake ran to the bathroom, Chris Brown emerged with a cut on his chin, Meek Mill said nothing happened, Tony Parker got some glass in his eye, some Australian tourist got cut the fuck up, and W.i.P. got shut down. That's the way love goes.