The Internet goes crude (in a bad way)

Long Island Lolita is back and in the buff

There are certain things that exist even though they don't fulfill any discernible need, and we would be better off without them. The appendix, the WNBA, and John Edwards come to mind.

I was about to add the soon-to-be-released Amy Fisher sex tape -- co-staring her latest much older Italian-American fella -- to this list. But, after viewing the almost safe for work publicity stills, I have to admit the curly haired girl who once put the Nabokov into Nassau County is looking pretty good. Which is impressive, because I don't remember thinking she was at all attractive when she was a lot younger and more notorious. Since I don't see any signs of massive reconstructive surgery, it's possible all those years in prison agreed with her. It's also possible that pornography agrees with her.

Not just any pornography, but this tape is rumored to be of the old-fashioned plot-driven variety. While storyboarding porn probably isn't complicated enough to be considered a lost art, I recently learned Fisher, who writes a column for the Long Island Press, once won an award from the Society of Professional Journalists -- so she just might be the lucid-penned harlot to bring full-length feature pornography back into vogue.

One thing that will not be found in the tape is Amy's former paramour Joey Buttafuoco. Which is too bad, because if Buttafuoco means what I think it means in Italian (and even if it doesn't) it makes for a pretty spectacular, multi-genre, porn name.

Celebrity porn pioneers to get hitched

Imagine what would have happened if, soon after Neil Armstrong became the first man to acquaint his well-insulated feet with the moon's surface, a female was launched into space and took a giant step for womankind? Then imagine, if years and a series of failed relationships later, Armstrong and this lady moonwalker were married. It would be a pretty big deal, huh?

Well, we might soon be treated to the modern day equivalent to this celestial pairing as reports out of Vegas have Pamela Anderson obtaining a marriage license with a Rick Salomon.

Pamela Anderson, of course, is the long-time actress/personality most noted for taking off her clothes -- particularly during an explicit boating expedition with now ex-hubby Tommy Lee. Pamela and Tommy had the good sense to videotape their aquatic adventure, and the end result was the tipping point that brought the Internet into most American homes.

Rick Salomon might not share Pamela's instant name recognition, but you would probably recognize the way green light shines of his unclothed body, as he was Paris Hilton's other half in a little movie called "1 Night In Paris." In 2003, sale of the movie netted Salomon a million dollars, and netted countless millions more for Internet providers in upgrades to DSL and broadband.

Recently Anderson described the metamorphosis of her relationship with Salomon (then her "mystery man") by telling talk show host Ellen DeGeneres, "I paid off a poker debt with sexual favors, and I fell in love."

While it's doubtful the hypothetical relationship of Neil Armstrong and his equivalent woman space pioneer would have ever included such a quote -- at least publicly -- one could argue the celebrity sex tape will be culturally relevant long after moonwalks are forgotten.

As for the over/under on the length of a Salomon/Anderson martial union? I'd put it at about how long it took to download Pamela's maiden foray into hard core celebrity pornography.

Yes, L.C. there is a post-Imus world

Before being knocked off by a lone crazed gunman, the Don Imus story had reached the point where, to continue to justify its existence, the press was forced to cast Imus's ouster as a harbinger of societal change.

I found this kind of talk inane: I believed the only thing that was going to come out of the shock jock's firing was a mini-controversy, in about six months time, when Imus made his triumphant return on satellite radio.

I'm not so sure about that any more.

If you're like me, you've been closely following the is-there-or-isn't-there saga surrounding the L.C. sex tape.

L.C., or Lauren Conrad, as she is now called, was a character on the MTV series Laguna Beach a couple years ago. The "reality" show marked the last time I consistently watched something on television -- and only because I was so charmed by the adorable L.C.'s shy, girl-next-store insecurities. How Stephen could chose Kristin, the vapid fake, over L.C. I will never know.

Since Laguna Beach, L.C. has done other reality shows including, maybe, the ultimate unauthorized reality show co-staring Jason Wahler, one of her Laguna Beach co-stars.

My interest in the L.C. sex tape really has nothing to do with pathetic voyeurism. In fact, it's strictly business. I've developed a revolutionary new strategy where a blogger can capitalize on celebrity sex tape scandals without lowering his standards to actual smut. Check out the brilliant simplicity of my site meter-ticking technique in the tags below.

Anyway, earlier, when I was doing my daily search for L.C. sex tape information, I came across an item that all but confirmed a video does exist. Only there is a catch. Fellow connoisseurs of F-list gossip know that Wahler, the co-star, has had a series of run-ins with law enforcement figures of color and has reacted by calling them things far worse than nappy.

SugarDVD, the porn distributor in talks to release the tape, was so bothered by Wahler's behavior and language that they have retracted their 500,000 dollar bid for the rights to the video, releasing this statement:

We refuse to support any person who feels that it is in any way acceptable to rattle off racial slurs and slanderous language about African-American people.

Not only is SugarDVD pulling out of the bidding, but they are actively reaching out to other porn distribution companies to discourage them for participating in a deal for the tape.

So there you have it: The post-Imus world. I hope you're all happy.

Rob Lowe: Not the biggest freak in Atlanta circa '88

All of our Joe Biden prayers were answered today as the greatest thing to happen to Delaware politics since its storied Constitution ratifying days has thrown his hat into the race for the White House.

Biden came out swinging with targets ranging from President Bush to the other Democrats in the primary field. He also, of course, said something weird and creepy. Speaking about Barack Obama, Biden opined:

“I mean, you got the first mainstream African-American who is articulate and bright and clean and a nice-looking guy I mean, that’s a storybook, man.”

Some have taken this as an unfair back-handed slap at the multi-racial dynamo. Maybe, but Biden is only describing, in his typically blunt terms, the phenomena that has led a popular on-line magazine to begin a feature called The Obama Messiah Watch, which contemplates the latest journalistic evidence Obama might be the son of God.

Still, what's with the clean?

Now if he was associating bright and clean, Biden's quote could be construed as a legitimate, albeit somewhat gratuitous, shot at the sloppy ethical dealings of past black presidential candidates. (And I'm not talking Alan Keyes -- no one would ever let Keyes anywhere near dealings.)

But if he was associating good looking and clean, you've just learned more than you ever wanted to know about Jesse Jackson.

Brazil is really touchy about their supermodels

When I think of Brazil I think of its excellent national soccer team, which has won two of the last four World Cups and should be the heavy favorites to take the 2010 title in South Africa.

I've also been hearing a lot about Brazilian supermodels lately, so I've been checking them out too. Like most supermodels, they don't quite live up to potentially explosive combination of the word's "super" and "model," but they are still something the nation of almost 200 million should be proud of.

How proud, I had no idea.

Last summer Daniela Cicarelli, a Brazilian supermodel and the ex-fiancee of soccer superstar Ronaldo, was filmed on a Spanish beach having sex with her current banker boyfriend.

As would be expected when famous people engage publically in sexual behavior, the video tape quickly made the Internet. Suddenly shy, the couple sued Youtube for removal of the tape. A judge in Brazil agreed and, in September, issued an injunction supporting their complaint. In response, Youtube immediately pulled the video.

But -- like a sexy cockroach -- the video refused to die. Youtube users in Brazil and around the world kept the tape on-line by continuing to upload saved copies using different, deceptive tags. Youtube, which deals with 65,000 uploads a day, will delete the video when they find it, but lack the ability to flag and filter out every video in real time.

So last Thursday, as a way of preventing Brazilians from seeing the tape, another judge banned Youtube from Brazil. While this extreme action obviously increased interest in the video world-wide, Youtube currently can't be accessed in much of Brazil. A panel of three judges will meet this week to decide on the price of their supermodel's honor, and could fine Youtube up to 119,000 dollars for each day the video remained on-line after the initial court order.

I'm sure the video in question is still floating around Youtube under some obscure and mysterious tag. I tried a few really obvious English phrases earlier this morning to no avail. If you are creative and have foreign language skills -- especially Portuguese -- you might be able to find the tape.

Although I doubt it's worth the time. And it certainly couldn't be worth 119,000 dollars a day.

How Britney Spears can, improbably, raise my IQ

Maybe it was the change in format, or the reports the Britney sex tape would make Paris's sex tape look "like a Disney film" but, in this morning's post, a distracted panel of judges carelessly overlooked the best part of the whole potentially sordid affair.

According to a source who has seen the tape:

"They (Spears and Federline) were in the honeymoon stages of their relationship and did nothing all day but have sex and play chess."

So now we know what goes on during the downtime of their four hour sexual marathon: Chess.

This could be a spectacular development for me. Flatteringly, people think I would be good at chess. Over the years, I've declined many a chess challenge -- always confidently, but not so confidently as to ruffle any feathers.

Because if I was ever forced to play chess my secret would be revealed: Anyone can beat me at chess. I mean anyone in the world. So could most higher primates. So could an abacus.

I'm OK with this because I believe chess, played at the less than grand master level, is about 98 percent concentration and 2 percent intelligence. Since even thinking about chess makes my foot shake violently, I concede lousy concentration and try not to worry about it.

Yet, as long as people associate chess with big Russian brains defending man's honor against hard charging IA-infused computers, my perceived intelligence remains in peril.

But if the image of America's white trash queen and her former king playing a post-coital game are burned into the retina of the world-- as it surely would be -- suddenly the sheen of chess-as-an-arbitrator-of-intellect doesn't shine so brightly.

If only we could convince a bunch of vacuous celebrities to take up poker. Wait a minute . . .

Idle threat of the week

After an contentious election season, a tired nation begs for congeniality and a cessation of negativity. Although the panel of judges who choose the Idle Threat of the Week tend to be either fiercely nonpartisan or cluelessly apolitical, we still decided to do our part in ending the divisiveness by addressing a problem that many people have with our prestigious award.

When our judges return home to their constituencies, they often hear the question, "With so many real and horrifying threats facing our world, why does a panel made up of such an esteemed group of thinkers chose to focus on the 'idle' threat -- the most trivial and ridiculous of all threats?"

In the spirit of reconciliation, we decided to shake things up this week and award the most valid threat instead of the most idle one.

Kevin Federline's alleged rapping career has made him a perennial candidate for the traditional award, but his recent threat to release an alleged four hour sex tape shot with now-ex-wife Britney Spears catapults him to the top of the list during this bizzaro week.

To quell any doubts of the tape's existence, Federline leaked a 19 second clip to the "Internet." Some of the panel thought a sex tape might be just what Brit's career needs, and she may even be a party to the scheme. That notion was quelled big-time after a review of Spear's surprisingly robust finances and the realization that a four hour amateur sex tape couldn't be flattering to even the best, non-airbrushed of us.

"Fed-ex" is rumored to have an offer of 64 million dollars for the tape. To lock the tape away, he is seeking an extra 17 million dollars from an "iron-clad"pre-nup as well as, cruelly, custody of their two children. So far he has already reaped the (not) Idle Threat of the Week for November 5-12.

Real threats often come with lessons: This week's lesson is love can be fleeting, but video tape lasts forever.

Get ready for a Screech attack

For thirteen years Dustin Diamond entertained us as lovable dork Samuel "Screech" Powers on various incarnations of the Saturday morning sitcom Saved by the Bell.

Now Screech is the latest and most unlikely member of the celebrity sex tape club. Unfortunately the video in question does not involve Lisa Turtle -- or Jessie Spano or Kelly Kapowski for that matter.

Instead Diamond, who describes himself as "all nose and hose," reportedly romps with two ladies who never walked the halls of Bayside High. The tape is rumored to be unusually dirty, even by modern pornography standards.

As of now the tape is in the hands of notorious smut peddler David Schmidt, the man behind the release of the Paris Hilton sex tape. It is unclear if the tape was stolen from Diamond or if this is another attempt by the unemployed actor to free himself from the long shadow of Screech.

Previously Diamond has tried to slide out of his typecast by participating in celebrity boxing and forcibly thwarting a female video game thief in an Omaha, Nebraska hotel room.

Schimidt claims there is a flurry of interest in the forty-minute video and sources say mainstream media companies are involved in the bidding. This is a little hard to believe when the sordid soiree is said to involve fecal matter and is preliminarily titled "Saved by the Smell."

Nevertheless, if this tape does end up causing a splash expect the ripples to reach deep into the ever-ready community of former child stars.

So yes America, we will soon see Gary Coleman naked and doing very bad things.

Bobby Abreu is not a swinger

New York baseball fans will soon learn what has become painfully obvious to the long-suffering baseball fans of Philadelphia: Brand-new Yankee and slugger-with-a-.430-slugging-percentage Bobby Abreu likes to take a pitch.

He takes a lot of pitches, leading the majors in walks this year despite hitting in front of the National League's top power hitter and behind its hit leader.

What makes Abreu unique, when compared to other patient middle-of-the-line-up hitters such as Jason Giambi and Barry Bonds, is when Abreu spots a ball coming towards the middle of his strike-zone he doesn't pounce on it and try to drive it out of the park. Rather he takes it in hopes the next pitch will be a ball, bringing him closer to drawing another of his cherished walks.

So steady is he in this approach he refuses to let having two strikes alter it.

I learned something today about Abreu that gets to the stunning depths of his passive nature. Abreu was once engaged to 1996's Miss Universe, who hails from his native Venezuela. The engagement was called off last year when his beauty queen fiancee was cast in a Mexican reality television show and promptly had sex with a greasy, pony-tailed man not named Bobby Abreu in front of a large TV audience.

While some have pointed out Abreu did go on a bit of power surge right after it happened, it was brief and he quickly returned to being the pitch taking machine he's always been.

Getting on with your life is probably a good idea after being the victim of such an egregious infidelity. But video of the illicit copulation now lives in internet infamy.

This clip* alone has been viewed a couple hundred thousand times since February. It is one of many.

One might think this never-ending humiliation would drive Abreu to take his aggression out on that little white ball, often thrown in his direction without the deceptive curve or blistering pace the other major leaguers are forced to grapple with.

But no.

Yankee fans who assume a move to pinstripes will impart in Abreu a hostility towards the ball, when the booing fans of Philadelphia and his then-fiancee riding some guy all over the internet weren't able to, are fooling themselves.

Just remember, "A walk is as good as a hit."

If you keep repeating this mantra, like Bobby does, you too can believe it is true.

*The clip contains PG-13, soap opera-like, sheet obscured sex. Only it's real sex and it involves Bobby Abreu's ex-fiancee, a former Miss Universe.