• Robert Pattinson's going out partying in Vancouver with Kristen Stewart. So, all you crazy, insane teenage stalkers, get your Canadian visas ready, go forth, and when you're deported for being fucked up and insane Robert Pattinson stalkers, at least pocket some of that BC Kush on your way home for me. I did, after all, tell you where he was. [Ed. Okay, no, but really: the Showbiz Spy item was about a "low-key" party in Vancouver. The title of the Showbiz Spy item was about Pattinson "partying hard" in Vancouver. You know why Robert Pattinson gets written about at all on the internet? Because teenagers use Google, and SEO Sandwich Making Magic is wonderful. Robert Pattinson could take a shit and I'd get at least 12,000 hits about it. Actually, probably far more than that, because we have yet to breach the fourth dimension where we report on Robert Pattison's bowel movements, which, yes, his fucked-up bloodthirsty teenage fans would be interested to know. To Mr. Pattinson, I suggest you eat as many segmented vegetables in the following months as you can. Specifically, anything that would go in a hearty winter soup.] [Showbiz Spy]
  
  
• Michael Jackson didn't like Pepsi. No shit. As the sole proprietor of Jackson's only assassination attempt, I wouldn't expect Jackson to be anything but a Coke fan, either. [Showbiz Spy]
  
  
• Some guy saw Mike Myers at a basketball court in New York and was like, hey, you're Dr. Evil. Which, well: yes. Correct. [Page Six]
  
  
• Chelsea Handler and her network exec boyfriend are still very much together. They were spotted in Atlantic City—Atlantic City?!—being together. Why, of all places?....Jesus. [NYP]
  
  
• Erin Lucas from The City and Leven "Sister of Mary" Rambin (from Days of Our Lives or whatever shitty soap she's doing these days) went out to Goldbar and saw cameras and Kelly Cutrone and freaked out and ran away. Cutrone, who's hysterical and awesome, had this to say to Page Six: "I think people were partying too hard to pay attention, because those cameras weren't there for me." Which basically translates to "If those bitches weren't so coked up they would've realized that I was just there to get a drink, sans TV crew." [Page Six]
  
  
• Lukas Haas and Miranda Kerr were dancing for an entire night at the Jane Hotel while the dude from Kings of Leon kept staring at them, and oh yeah, she's supposed to be dating Orlando Bloom, whoops. [Page Six[
  
  
• Amy Winehouse got her teeth fixed because in the great tradition of British Teeth, they were sincerely fucked up. Of course, they gave her really strong drugs to deal with the pain, so while she might have nice teeth, now, she's still very much a crackhead, this time, with a doctor's endorsement. [Showbiz Spy]
  
  
• One of those Real Creatures from Dirty Jersey, Danielle Staub, told Jennifer Aniston not to judge New Jersey and make jokes about it smelling, which she did on Chelsea Handler's show the other night. Honestly, though, most people from New Jersey know that New Jersey smells. But it's like a bog out of which emerges wonderful creatures like Bruce Springsteen, Danny DeVito, and seminal emo bands like Saves The Day, who actually have a song about the smell of New Jersey reminding them of their mediocre lives. If anything, Staub can't smell New Jersey because she's had her nose buried in something—the shit? Blow?—for far too long. [US]
  
  
• Ouch, Ashley Dupré: you got sold down the river for Tommy "Agent Nilla" Hilfiger by Russell Simmons. Simmons was going to take Dupré to Hilfigah's party and Tommy dis-invited her. Simmons, who's not famous for anything other than once inventing Def Jam and nowadays, doing yoga and possibly young men, dis-invited Dupré to the party. But really: who wants to a Tommy Hilfiger party? Oh. Wait. It was at the Jane Hotel. Well, Dupré: sucks! [Page Six]
  
  
• Broadway gossip: Chris Rock was supposed to be in David Mamet's new play, Race, but the word being preemptively put out on the street is that his schedule had too many conflicts. Which, note smirky husband and wife gossip duo Rush & Molloy, is not at all about his wife hating Kerry Washington, or trying to deal with the threat of Kerry Washington on her mans. Not at all. Meanwhile, Chris "Smack Her With The Dick" Rock has a new book coming out, and it's probably pretty good. [NYDN]
  
  
• Uh oh. As cool as Jay-Z kept his shit when Lil Mama burst on stage with him and Alicia Keys at the end of the VMAs, he apparently freaked out when he got backstage, screaming at producers about security. I like that Jay-Z's biggest security threat these days is now Lil' "Lip Gloss" Mama. My, rap community, how times have changed. "He went ballistic. He was screaming at the MTV producers about the lack of security. He apparently thought at first she was just a fan. Beyoncé finally calmed him down." [NYDN]
  
  
• Same R & M item: did you know Warren Buffet drinks five cans of Cherry Coke a day? I'll be attempting to do this over the course of the day in order to make more money than I did yesterday. By drinking ten. We'll check in on me around 4PM, when I'm out cold from the meanest sugar high crash ever. [NYDN]
  
  
• Celebrities doing nice things: Sienna Miller apparently did really, really well in her first day on the job, not only impressing theatergoers, but greeting her fans outside the theater to sign programs and be generally nice. [NYDN]

Over the weekend, the Post's magical resurrection of the Spitzer hooker scandal hit its peak. Instead of taking our advice and either disappearing or becoming a self-sustaining business mogul via pornography (either one of which would make her the master of her own fate and Money$$), Ashley foolishly chose to "get into bed," HEH, so to speak, with the dirty tabloid, in exchange for some "publicity" for her "musical career." It is a trick, Ashley! Give up this "musical" "career" at once and get as far away from the Post as possible!

The paper extracted the following things from the empowered young woman over the weekend:
1. Sexxxy photos.
2. Exclusive debut and video for her craptastic new pop song.

In return they gave her a puff piece calling her a "poster child for redemption." LOL! Oh and an explanatory piece on her tattoos. That too. And the Post's most painful concession (if you're a music critic): A positive review of her new single, "I Feel So Alive Without You." It's in the paper, but not online. That may have been a concession to Dan Aquilante, the critic forced to write this:

Unlike her first single, "Inside Out," a molasses-tempo ballad, this new tune has youth appeal in its complex melody that segues from a rock opening to a poppy chorus and ultimately plays with an unplugged acoustic bridge. Dupre should consider weaving in a quick rap for good measure.

Yes, weaving in a quick rap usually gives these things a touch of class. Aquilante didn't let this mandatory positive review go through without exacting his revenge in the kicker:

Ask any rock star and they'll tell you it's all about hooks, looks and the smarts to know how to take advantage of an opportunity when it falls into your lap — Miss Dupre has an abundance of all three qualities.

References to hookers and lap dances. You see Ashley, this is just the nature of the game. It was actually impressive when you turned down multimillion-dollar porn offers in the wake of the Spitzer scandal and went quiet for a while. What you don't realize, Ashley: the New York tabloid industry is shadier than the porn industry. And the tabloids don't even pay you.

• As predicted, the DA dropped the charges against Shawne Merriman alleging that he'd physically abused Tila Tequila late one night last week. Because, really, when was the last time someone with the surname "Tequila" was a credible witness? Guilty until proven Herradura, at least. Meanwhile, Merriman continues on his jolly way back to the first week of the NFL season, where he will take place in a delicate sport populated by upstanding young men whose clean-cut reputation for this kind of thing moves further along. Oh, and lesson for all of you: don't go crazy on Twitter next time you get cops involved. Because it just means you're guilty or lying. [NYDN]
  
  
• Oh, and it sounds like Merriman proposed to have a foursome with him, Tequila (Tila), and two other women, who he had over at his house when Ms. Tequila showed up. At the time, Tila went batshit like any girlfriend reasonably would, and Merriman had to restrain her, and there's a one week gossip cycle. Next. [NYP]
  
  
• She also thinks it's a conspiracy on behalf of the city of San Diego to keep Merriman on the field. Yes. Because when I think "glue that holds the San Diego Chargers" together, I definitely think of Shawn Merriman. And by that, I mean: no. [E!]
  
  
• Heh. Anna Wintour totally got stalked by fans, and maybe, some people we know on Fashion's Night Out. She's bona fide! Apparently, she kept her cool when someone screamed at her about fur and also ran in heels down the street with her team chasing her, while fans tagged along. She lost it when trying to sign a shirt—a t-shirt?!?—with a sharpie. She got pissed at her staff, but really, she should be far more concerned that she comes after an item about someone with the surname Tequila. [Page Six]
  
  
• Aw. Bill Clinton had dinner with Chelsea and Laura Ling, who he rescued by swinging into North Korea, punching Kim Jong-Il in the face, grabbing onto a vine and Euna Lee, and swinging onto safe territory. Remember that? [Page Six]
  
  
• Charlie Sheen still thinks 9/11 was masterminded by George W. Bush and other evil forces. The funny thing is, if 9/11 was an inside job, the same people who are responsible for Two and a Half Men probably have something to do with it. Evil comes in all forms. Also, Charlie Sheen, WTF are you doing hanging out with a bunch of Salinger back-pocketing conspiracy theorists? Is this what happens when you've domestically abused every possible spouse in Hollywood? Dude, go to brunch at The Griddle or something. Like, get outside, you've got the money. Seriously. [NYDN]
  
  
• Mischa Barton told The View that intense pain from a wisdom teeth operation paired with mild painkiller use basically landed her in a psych ward. Basically, best excuse for going off your meds, like, ev-ar. Also: Marissa Cooper lives. [NYDN]
  
  
• Jennifer Aniston and Gerard Butler—and again, when did this guy become a movie star?—are maybe dating or maybe not, and the daily news has more speculation, but Christ, you need to see the photo that accompanies this Daily News story about it. Too much. Seriously. Too much. Also, if we're going to hear blind speculation on the nature of a relationship we really don't care about over and over again like this, the Post and the Daily News should at least put out betting lines on it. I wouldn't feel too bad making money over this. [NYDN]
  
  
• Mayor Bloomberg has Lady Gaga fever. He probably knows about the penis. [NYDN]
  
  
• Professional Today Show drunk Hoda Kotb went to Coney Island and found out there were no dressing rooms when training for her first triathlon out there. She ended up changing in her towncar. Try this one in a cab, someone. You'll end up with your face smeared into a partition and a blood-thirsty driver trying to peel you off of it. The state of private transportation in New York right now is sordid at best. [NYP]
  
  
• Jay-Z had a concert last night, and basically brought everyone in the rap business, New York, and The Electric Company out on stage with him. [NYDN]
  
  
• Speaking of "Run This Town," celebrity hooker Ashley Dupre was on the scene with Russel Simmons last night at a screening of the ultimate Save The Dolphins documentary "The Cove" last night. She's apparently doing yoga with Russell Simmons, who is, well, doing yoga with Ashley Dupre. [NYP]
  
  
• Tom Brady and Gisele might spring New England's Great Hope from Gisele's loins sometime before the playoffs, which would be great, because it might take Brady out of a late-season game that could inevitably help push ahead other fantasy owners who don't have him. Like me. Meanwhile, since Boston's ACLS chances are fucked, this is basically all they have to look forward to. Brady's kid's going to have the best childcare in the world. [NYDN]

This is what happens when you don't listen to us, Ashley. We told you not to play footsies with the New York Post. We told you to take the money and run! Or do whatever you like, as long as it does not involve speaking publicly, or singing. You disregarded us and wrote your fancy "blog" about ladies in NY hooking up with rich guys for the luv of money and how is that very much different from being a hooker? That's all the angle the Post needed to go stand on a random NYC street corner speaking to ladies for maybe 20 minutes and turning their idle comments into a citywide hate feud:

"I don't agree with what she said — I would totally never do anything like that," sniffed Justyna Cichon, 29, of Long Island City.

And on top of that the Real Housewives of New Jersey were asked to comment on you, of course, and Andrea Peyser was brought in to provide the sexxxy outrage. Tell us, Andrea—how do Ashley Dupre and Eliot Spitzer go together?

Like Eliot's pasty, white legs and those kinky, black knee socks he couldn't quite lose before doing the nasty.

Thanks, Andrea. So you see, Ashley: You need us. We can be there for you.
U no we just want 2 luv U, gurl.

What did we tell you about this, Ashley? If you had followed our advice you would have already built your trashy faux-media empire and stacked enough cash to drop out of the public eye forever by now, via porn. We told you specifically to give up the music. Your music sucks. But what do we see, today? You, writing on a blog, for free, playing right into the hands of the bloodsucking tabloids, and plugging another god damn song!

People think I made money off music that was exploited when the scandal first broke, that I am doing reality television, and that I made millions posing nude for magazines... I never sold any photos of myself - but people who I trusted did. And the "millions" for the nude pics? I was offered that, repeatedly – and turned them down because I didn't want to perpetuate the problem or feed into the stereotype.

We know, that's the problem! You could be rich by now! Look, Ashley, the fact is that you are right, morally. You are doing the right thing to retain your humanity. But then you let the devil, in the form of the New York Post, sneak in through the back door because you think it will help your music career, of all things. Not only did you start "speaking out" right on schedule for the tabloid, but they also ran your entire Global Grind blog post in the paper, and did a review of your new song. We're not saying you struck some sort of deal with them, but if you did, you got conned. The tabloids will cover whatever you do no matter what. Your reputation is not going to change substantially. And you will never get rich off music—because, as we mentioned, your music sucks (but not in a lucrative way).

So sell out like the evil world wants you to, or just fade into obscurity. One's good for your soul. The other's good for your wallet. Playing footsie with the Post will only lead you off the cliff. Trust us here. We are your friend.

Based on the fact that they want to! Yesterday the Post ran an "exclusive" cover story about Spitzer "eyeing a comeback." That's all it takes to reignite the entire news cycle! Today there's a follow-up cover story. And surely many more to come. So what was the breaking news that started the rehashing of this whole tabloid gold story once again? This, basically:

"He's weighing it," said one source.

Followed by denials! It doesn't matter. All that matters is that the Spitzer story is back now, which gives the media the chance to re-explore and update all the angles that have been sitting dormant for months. Today's angle for the Post: Ashley Dupre's mom doesn't think Spitzer should do the thing that the Post's anonymous source says maybe he is thinking about doing, although he says he is not! Which is also a good excuse for the paper to dig out those sexxxy bikini shots of Ashley and her surprisingly fit mother. Endless updates on Ashley Dupre's post-prostitution career, complete with more sexxxy photos, TK!

Need to bring back a story that's just too sweet to let go of? It's easy.

1. Dig up and/ or fabricate a single speculative new piece of information about the story's protagonist. Anything will do.
2. Pad this piece of information out with reaction quotes until it reaches full story length. Splash it across your cover. Be sure to choose a good photo! The story itself doesn't matter. All that matters is that people will see the new headline and be reminded of that sweet, sweet scandal.
3. Commence to re-interview all the tertiary players in the original story. Write new stories about their new reactions to the "new" information. This can also lead to feature pieces about "Where are they now?" Use lots of photos!
4. Continue as long as the public's interest holds out.

Eliot Spitzer can look forward to a lot more time spent shooting the shit with cameramen outside his apartment.

Reports the New York Times:

Mr. Spitzer, according to the documents and the lawyer's comments, met regularly with Emperor's Club prostitutes, sometimes in cities outside of New York and Washington, over 18 months to 2 years, using a variety of aliases and paying with money orders from the United States Postal Service.

The records unsealed on Monday at the sentencing of the booker, Temeka Rachelle Lewis, 33, included the prosecution's letter detailing her "substantial assistance" to their investigation and her defense lawyer's sentencing memorandum.

In the memorandum, Ms. Lewis's lawyer, Marc Agnifilo, wrote that she "provided the government with the names of hotels, the approximate dates of meetings, the names of women the governor saw, different names the governor utilized and different ways the governor paid for these sessions."

The information, he wrote, also included the cities where the liaisons occurred, the period during which they occurred, the regularity with which they occurred and how he wanted the hotel rooms to be booked and reserved, "presumably to conceal his involvement."

He said that over 18 months to 2 years, the governor had arranged "several different liaisons" with women working for the Emperor's Club. The assignations, he said, took place in cities outside of New York and Washington, and the governor paid using postal money orders, a method he called "relatively unsophisticated" and an indication that Mr. Spitzer was spending his own money.

Reading this story had us imagining Eliot Spitzer, the Governor of New York, walking into a post office in Yonkers to buy a money order to pay for sex with a prostitute. How ridiculous is that? We always feel like the postal workers think we're up to something shady any time we've ever had to get a money order from the post office, so much so that we always feel compelled to explain exactly why we need it.

"So, um, yeah, so I've got to put this deposit down on an apartment and the landlord won't take a check, that's why I need this money order."

But then the clerk just usually looks at us funny and we leave convinced that they think we're getting a money order to pay for, well, whores!

Taking that into consideration, we wonder how Eliot Spitzer must have felt.

At Prostitution Ring Sentencing, Details of Spitzer's Liaisons [New York Times]

Which is impressive. Not that Silda has forgiven her husband, since we live in an age when it's all about personal growth and learning from experience and going through a journey to arrive at a reconciled space. No, we just think it's brave of her to admit the best date she can get is some guy who writes for Slate.

(Photo via New York Daily News)

Have we really been reduced to asking Eliot Spitzer to be an expert on "visceral" outrage? Leave aside his paid dalliance with call girl Ashley Dupré, or the money-laundering regulations he violated in arranging to pay her.

Here's the real outrage: Spitzer, by clamping down on Wall Street's biggest investment banks, drove their best and brightest to hedge funds, where they pursued even wilder schemes which eventually brought down their former employers. Yes, he stopped one category of abuses — while setting the stage for a whole new one. And up until the whole whore thing, it worked out great for him, landing him in Albany. But you'll never hear him discuss his "awareness" of his own role, as a supposed reformer, in helping bring about today's crisis.

Ashley has a new 'blog' today! What's she been up to? Oh yoga and this and that, etc.:

In great part, discovering my identity came through the quiet reflection I enjoyed while practicing yoga, and the inner strength I've developed attracts powerful things. I'm seeing that the stronger I am at my core, the more natural and effortless it becomes to draw positive people and uplifting experiences into my life. For example, never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined befriending Russell Simmons while taking class at a yoga school I started going to in the past year. This school has been the safe haven for my self-study and spiritual development. The more I know my true self, the more I come to have faith that my presence on earth means more or at least has different meaning than the media or disbelievers have tried to frame it to be.

We have to level with you, Ashley: you're doing exactly the right thing, which is no good for our purposes. Ignoring the media, being quiet, meditating, learning humility, and focusing on self-improvement are great ways to become a better person and move past your scandalous past. What the hell are we supposed to do with that, hmm? We had a better career plan for you: Porn. Why do you ignore this easy money in favor of spiritual salvation?

See, you doing scandalous things pays our salary, Ashley. Porn sells. If you're gonna screw us on that, at least don't stop blogging. (But still, consider porn).
[Ashley writes things here]

• Despite what Dr. Phil was told, someone's shopping a tape of Octo-Mom giving birth, shot by one of Nadya Suleman's close friends. [TMZ]
• Octo-Mom to Dr. Phil on having her last batch of eight kids: "I wasn't thinking rationally. In retrospect, would I have done that again? I don't know." Having eight more kids while you're still alone and on food stamps with the first six? Ya, that's a tough one. [Us]
• Neel Shah reveals that yoga saved former hooker Ashley Dupre's life. In so doing, he does not once use the phrase "downward dog." Gawker's little intern is all grown up! [P6]
  
• Jeff Zucker likes to watch Jimmy Fallon play with his Wii. [Gatecrasher]
  
• The New York Times crossword editor used "WSJ" as the answer to the clue "Where to read about the [NYSE]." As punishment, he must somehow fit the answer "DealBook by Andrew Ross Sorkin" into one of his future puzzles.
• It's possible Chris Brown will win up to two "Kids' Choice" awards on Nickelodeon. OK, so someone finally devised a scenario that makes us favor uninformed voters and corrupt election officials. It doesn't mean we're over the Bush v. Gore ruling. [People]
  
• If everyone could stop arguing over which ladyfriend is or is not ultimately responsible for the apparently bloody fight between Chris Brown and Rihanna, that would be great. There's exactly one person responsible for Chris Brown's actions. [OK!]
• George Clooney was reportedly so drunk in St. Louis recently he could barely stumble to his hotel. Laugh at him now, and then the next time you're piss drunk realize you're just as bad, except also half as handsome. [Gatecrasher]

• On Valentine's weekend, Alex Rodriguez went out with Madonna's friend Ingrid Casares, a model and "three hot chicks." Not that he's trying to prove anything to, say, Madonna and her Brazilian boy toy. [P6]
• Lindsay Lohan may be skinny, but she insists she's eating as much as she always has. But then the starlet added, cryptically, "everyone goes through something, and everyone can relate to something." Try that sentence again after a cheeseburger, doll. [Daily Star]
• Sad, broke Michael Jackson is auctioning his signature gloves, a Rolls Royce limo with 24-karat gold "embellishment," a golf cart with a Peter Pan version of himself spray painted on the hood and an oil painting of himself dressed as a king. Also, the gates to his estate. [Mail]
• Heidi Klum on being called "too heavy" for the runway: "Do I look like I care? I really don’t think about [it]." [Gatecrasher]
• The publicist fired for taking Ashley Dupre to Yigal Azriel's fashion show, Kelly Cutrone, is being nice to the former hooker out of the goodness of her heart, and not because Cutrone has a reality show forthcoming on Bravo. Although if you want to go ahead and plug Dupre's forthcoming album, the flack certainly won't object. [P6]
• Tom Cruise spent time with ex-wife Nicole Kidman and her current husband Keith Urban at the Daytona 500. [ET]

You would think this "Yigal Azrouël" would be happy for the free PR that up-and-coming singer Dupre brought to his show. But he wasn't:

A no-nonsense, late night press release announced the news: "Following the showing of his Fall Winter 2009 Collection, Yigal Azrouël has decided to fire front-of-house PR Company, People's Revolution, for mismanagement."

That PR company is run by Kelly Cutrone, star of The City. And she couldn't care less about that crappy fashion label client, frankly! Nobody named "Yigal" will come between Kelly and her friend, Ashley Dupre, singer.

"When I met her I was like, you know what, I really like this girl," said Ms. Cutrone. "I'm vehemently opposed to morality, and I think that people who are insistent upon propelling morality ultimately hang themselves."

Got that? She's vehemently opposed to morality. Okay. So anyhow let's get right down to brass tacks and find out from Ashley Alexandra Dupre, hey Ashley, tell us about your upcoming music album will you?

Over pasta and salmon at L'Ulivo in the West Village, Dupre opened up about her hoped-for music career, her love of fashion and how she's dealt with moving on from the Eliot Spitzer scandal. "It's pop-rock, it's going to be deep, not bubblegum. It's definitely a personal record," said Dupre, 23, of the album she is currently recording...But don't expect any Spitzer-related songs. "I think I'll stay away from that, it would be pretty tacky," said Dupre, who is petite, gregarious and blessed with a flawless complexion. "I don't want to sing about it and I don't think anyone wants to listen to it."

Well you are certainly wrong about that! [NYDN, NYO, WWD]

WWD caught Ashley at the Yigal Azrouel show today, although all the other celebs and photographers totally overlooked her! They milked her for this exclusive info:

"I'm here to see Yigal, I'm really excited," she said of the show, though it is not her first ever fashion show experience. She'll also be attending the IMG party, said Dupre, clad in leather pants, towering sandals, and a red jacket with her hair demurely parted on one side. As for future projects, including her music career, she said "I'm not going to say what I'm doing - I want to give it a fair shot. But we'll be announcing something soon."

We already know what she should be doing. More importantly, if you see Ashley out and about, please send us some pics. [WWD]

UPDATE: Hey, here are some dynamic photographs of the occasion, via here:

"As much as Ashley was growing on me, I tried to keep an eye out for girls who were stealing clients from the agency... But this girl knew how to play the game. She knew the better she was to the agency, the more money she would make. I knew part of the reason she was hanging out with me so much was exactly for that reason, and I was okay with that. I think we would have been friends anyway...

Ashley and I were amazing together. I loved her body. She wasn't skinny at all, you'd never feel like you could break her, but she didn't have any fat on her body. She wasn't noticeably muscular either—she had a naturally gorgeous frame and shape. The only thing I didn't love were her breasts. She had implants, and I didn't think they were the greatest. She told me she got them when she was sixteen. That shocked me. I felt like such a foreigner. What's more American than fake tits at sixteen?

When I saw Ashley's pussy, I was overcome with the need to lick it, to devour it. And when I did, I didn't want to stop—she tasted so sweet. Ashley was at that point when girl meets woman, and it's spectacular. I had to stop before I wanted to. I couldn't be selfish as there was a client in the room.

...When Ashley and I arrived back at the loft, I took Jason aside immediately. I said, 'You've got to book this girl. She has the most beautiful coochie I've ever seen.'

Jason wanted details. I struggled to find the words. Pink, small, pretty? How do you describe the perfect flower or sunset?"

We mean to say that in a ratings battle that was historially waged on Friday night, Dupre's much ballyhooed Diane Sawyer 20/20 interview handily trounced Lipstick Jungle (which aired, on a Friday for some reason, in the same slot as the interview) with a 8.2 million to 3.3 million point spread. So, though series star Brooke Shields might deny it, Jungle is ding-dong diddily dead. And Ashley Dupre is famous(ish) again!

Jungle has plenty of sex, sure, but it's mostly about the clothes (there's a character named Victory who is a fashionz dezinerz!) and the Baudelaire lifestyles the garments imply. Dupre was all about where the sexing will get you—money! in New York! fleeting, squirrely third-hand fame! Both gluttony and lust are strong ass sins, to be sure, but I guess in the end the carnality, unlike the consumerism, is free. Well, not free. But...

Oh, you know what I mean.