In the video, which he posted publicly to his personal blog, Hornik puts on a series of baseball caps — he wears many hats, yageddit? — from his portfolio of startups. A song plays: "You're my superhero, my knight in shining armor." Venture capitalist to the rescue! Hornik's wife and kids also appear. He's a family man!

At first, I wondered if Hornik had actually made Lobby attendees sit down and watch this video en masse. Not so, I'm told; instead, it was preloaded on the free iPods everyone at The Lobby received, along with other self-introduction videos. The Lobby's schtick is that it has no formal schedule of presentations; instead of sitting in a room ignoring the video while Twittering, attendees can simply ignore the program outright, as it sits unviewed on an iPod's hard drive. I don't know what's worse: the image of Hornik inflicting his egofest on a captive audience, or the pathetic vision of him wandering around his own conference, wondering how many actually bothered to watch it.

And that's why Hornik's a funder, not a founder. He has enough ego to make this video — but not enough ego to force it on people. He lacks the chutzpah an entrepreneur needs — and I suspect he knows it.

As a nearby source explains:

Justin got introduced to some guy sitting down and quickly started yelling and waving his arms. Justin accused the guy of stealing his broadcasters, using words like "incessant" and "out of control". Justin then said something about "staying off his fucking site" or that he'll just "break the guy's face", with his fists clenched. The guy just sat there pretty calmly and simply asked Justin for more than 1 example of content poaching. After Justin stumbled to answer the guy continued to say "this is not worth my time." Stumped, Justin kind of gave up, apologized, and walked away embarrassed.

More photos of Kan, Julia Allison, Sarah Lacy, and other afterpartiers:

At August, things got crowded up real fast. There were more women in the crowd this year, a change from sausagefests past. But they were hardly breaking Valley gender barriers. The marketers at the Plista booth lamented that their competitors were getting attention by hiring cute girls to serve free beer. (I still don't remember what Plista does.) A fellow with an accent — possibly a put-on — asked Yahoo Tech Ticker cohost Sarah Lacy if she worked in PR, because "you're so pretty." Here's Lacy's account of the conversation:

Dude: "You girls are really lovely you must work in PR."
Lacy: "Did you really just say that? That's incredibly insulting. Never say that to a woman in any business setting."
Dude: "No, I just mean because every pretty girl I've met here is in PR."
Lacy: "Yes, I know what you meant. that's why it's insulting. It's like assuming a woman in an office is a secretary."
Dude: "Blah blah."
Lacy: "You know what? There's a lot of people i actually want to talk to here." (walks off)

He came up to me TWICE after that, interrupting conversations to apologize.

Lacy: "Look, I don't care dude. just don't ever say it again because it's textbook insulting."

Everyone was mesmerized by Julia Allison, the former Star editor-at-large (read: TV spokesperson) turned Wired covergirl. That is, if you were important enough to warrant a conversation with her. Once the 30 seconds of polite time she gives you is up she'd turn free agent and could easily be stolen by somebody like Facebook's Dave Morin. Speaking of being mesmerized, rap impresarios MC Hammer and Chamillionaire showed up as well. They mingled amongst the geek kids talking about tech and rap while the Olds just guffawed at the entire thing from afar.

As the party wound up and the business-card-swapping got all the more frantic, Duck9's Larry Chiang put his afterparty plan into motion. His brilliant scheme: Send the entrepreneurs a URL with an invite to the Four Seasons Palo Alto and misdirect the venture capitalists with an otherwise identical invite to the Westin — a plausible location, since that was where Chamillionaire was staying. For non-VCs, the choice came down to Chiang's pool party at the Four Seasons, or Julia Allison's expedition to the Cheesecake Factory with Randi Zuckerberg, the nerd chanteuse and sister of Facebook CEO Mark. I crashed the pool party. I like to think I made the right decision for Valleywag readers.

At the Seasons, we saw Brian Solis working the crowds like a pro. Justin Kan of Justin.tv enjoying the jacuzzi in his underwear surrounded by girls. Shira Lazar mingled with Michael Arrington (perhaps prepping for an interview). And I even witnessed Jason Baptiste of Publictivity pitch a movie deal to Sarah Lacy based on her book. Michael Cera to play Zuckerberg anyone?

Which brings us to a tweak in Arrington's business model. Michael, instead of charging sponsors for booths at the party party, why not sell sponsorships at the afterparty? I don't remember any of the companies who paid for my attention on Sand Hill Road. But the scenes of Silicon Valley's finest stumbling around at poolside? Burned into my memory.

Photos by Randal Alan Smith

It was the same small talk, the same pitches, and the same scanning of nametags before faces as any other Valley networking event. With one small hitch — partygoers were asked to fill out their own nametags, and most neglected to include their company information. That omission perplexed at least one venture capitalist in attendance. "I feel like I'm walking socially blind," he confessed. "I don't know how important these people are to me." You mean Arrington's velvet rope-holders let in some hoi polloi who aren't worth your time, let alone your capital? Quelle horreur!

Still with a headcount inching towards quadruple digits, there were bound to be a few gems in the crowd. MySpace cofounder Chris DeWolfe was on hand to support Fox Interactive alumna Heather Harde, now TechCrunch CEO (and proud owner of a a blinged-out TechCrunch rhinestone nameplate necklace). Ning CEO Gina Bianchini, while sampling the samosas, warned me away from the sickeningly sweet frozen margaritas doled out by an overeager PR firm.

But for the most part, it was midlevel business developers trolling the crowd for victims. The pitches from official TechCrunch9 sponsors and invited guests mostly went ignored, but it was harder to miss some pushier in-person come-ons. One annoyed CEO told me, "Three times I've been talking to people and interrupted by pitches. These people just don't get it!"

Confession time: Yes, I went to the party even though I was technically disinvited. I thought it was a cute Valleywag tradition, but apparently Mike wasn't kidding about taking my name off the list. Other guests were well aware of this, and commented on my presence, often, once I graced the patio. One guest half-jokingly said to me, "Arrington's right there, I can't be seen talking to you." At least, I think he was joking. As soon as he pronounced that, he turned and bounced away to the next conversation. Wanker. I'm hoping he got cornered by biz-dev types in blue shirts for the rest of the evening.