Ashley Dupre: The Dr. Phil of High-Priced Hookers?

I stirred a little slowly from my slumber this morning. Although I'd been awake for a few hours, when The View came on at 10 am, I was still moving at a snail's pace. Breakfast was on the table, but that was really the extent of my productivity thus far.
Just as I was sipping coffee from my favorite mug, wishing a bolt of electric energy would uproot my weighted ass, a discussion between Whoopi, Barbara, Joy and Elisabeth shocked me right out of semi-comatose state.
I'm sure you all recall the March, 2008, hooker fiasco that left the formerly high-powered Governor of New York Elliot Spitzer out of a job, out of dignity and nearly out of a wife, to say the least. As a Democrat, I've always been completely amazed by our uncanny ability to throw a monkey wrench in what would otherwise be a glide to victory, but even I was shocked by the rat-faced, alien-eared Spitzer's involvement with hookers that pricey. I mean, he is Jewish, right? I don't think they have coupons in the Yellow Book for that, do they? (Calm down, I'm only joking.) For the first couple of months following the high end prostitution ring, laughably the "Emperors Club," was busted, Spiter's girl Ashley Dupre aka Kristen sprinkled the gossip magazines and late night talk shows as though she was Britney Spears in a barber shop. First she was publicly offered a hefty check to be in one of the Girls Gone Wild videos, but then Joesph Francis, the class act who started up that national embarrassment, realized, you guessed it, he'd already filmed Ashley when she was still an up-and-coming high-priced hooker. Even Joe was surprised that he hit the proverbial jack pot. He already had her on tape showing off those million dollar goodies, so he tore up whatever check he was planning on sending Ashley. Just imagine the profit margins on that little gem!
As if the whole fake-named hooker with the beady-eyed gnome wasn't funny enough the first time around, apparently the veteran reality television show producer David Knieff believes there is still plenty of ridicules profitability left to be made. You know funny, ridicules and, of course, sex are the three most important elements of a successful reality show. What other explanations would there be for the upcoming THIRD season of Rock of Love with Bret Michaels, which is, by the way, totally freakin' awesome! It's like The Bachelor with crack 'hos! Love it!
So, Knieff has offered Ashley $2 million for the full rights to her story, which will include a show and possibly a book. The best part is he plans to cast her as "a kind of Dr. Phil."
I can totally see the similarities: they are both media whores, they've both broken up a few marriages and neither one is a bit scared to drop their ethics like panties in a frat house for a good pay day. I know this girl has been to college once or twice, but does this mean she will be interviewing guests and giving them advice that can be applied to the general population. On Dr. Phil this afternoon, a wife sought counsel from the good doctor on coping with her unfaithful, porn-addicted husband who periodically frequents the service of call girls. What do you suspect would be Ashley's guidance in such a situation?
Of course, Krieff and Ashley's publicist (Yes, the hooker now has a publicist) both gave statements claiming that Ashely is seeking "a show to clean up her image."
Meanwhile, some poor schmuck from New Jersey, Thomas "TJ" Earle is joining Elliot Spitzer in cleaning up his life after admitting last Friday to purchasing a little love time with Asley. I think it is interesting that in their secret business transactions and now the subsequent fallout from them, Elliot and TJ got screwed and Ashley, well, she got paid.


***Just for your entertainment, I'm going to post a few excerpts from the Emperors Club wegpage. I mean, holy shit, that's the name of your hooker ring and then you create a website that all put spells out, "Yes, we are peddling ass, very tight, top-of-the-line ass," and you are somehow mystified when the authorities catch on. Apparently, once you become a "VIP," which only means that you have LOTS of money and aren't scared to spend it, you can go to the site and check on the "merchandise." Naturally, the page has come down since the media firestorm broke out last Spring, but just for you, my beloved readers, I have saved them. You will notice that on the individual girl's profile, her attributes are advertised or "pimped," as it would be called if they on the corner instead of the computer. Now, on top of the descriptions, they are rated with diamonds. It is basically the same set-up as book reviews in People magazine, except the diamonds represent not only quality, but cost. If you got a five carat call girl in mind, let's just hope your stocks have been rising like these prices or, well, you know. I would write more funny stuff, but there is really no way I can stop this shit.



Looked at all her diamonds!



She's good, but clearly, no Maya! And finally, the "estimates" for what a day and/or night with these world class call girls might run a "VIP." I know Elliot Spitzer comes from a little money, but Jesus, how was he paying for these rendezous without his wife Silda sniffing out the perfumed trail? He has, after all, been on government pay for several years now.

Jingle Balls?

Sorry for today's late posting. The computer is back from the Doctor Kyle at Ameritech Solutions, so I think everything should zooming along until the Tech God strikes me down once again.

Yesterday morning, as I poured the delicious, ass-widening French Vanilla Coffee Mate into my morning cup of Joe, the boys bounced across the house. Mike Meyers and his fellow crew members from his up-and-coming movie The Love Guru were on The View promoting the new funny flick. Although the movie is of the traditional comedic Meyer's flare we've all come to adore through Wayne's World to Austin Powers, Mike's inspiration when he was writing it came from his late father's life and his own grieving process after his father's death. As Mike was explaining all this, masterfully mixing serious and silly, he said he tries to live his life according to a witty adage of his pop.

To be enlightened, you must first lighten up.

While I think Whoopi Goldberg is about as hip as they make 'em, I don't typically take a whole lot spiritually from The View. But, this really hit me like a hammer to a nail. You can probably tell from reading my posts that I try to interpret life from the funny side. I like to laugh and I like to make others laugh.
Just as I was trying to think of a way to incorporate the quote Mike shared, my oldest son Ridge presented me with the perfect little tale for this. When you are raising kids, especially two boys who are 18 months apart in age, if you don't try to brush life off with a grin, you are gonna spend a lot of time drinking cheap vodka in a dry bathtub. Trust me, that's not good for anyone.
Pouring my second cup of coffee, I noticed Ridge was milling around in the pantry. I assumed he was dragging out some sugary cereal his dad had foolishly brought home, so I resumed my idol-worshiping of Mike Meyers.
Well, it turns out Ridge wasn't digging through the dry goods. Instead, he had found the Christmas ornaments and was having a tassel-soaked blast stringing out lights and beads through the spare room. And then a light bulb went off.
Sitting in the lazy boy, I heard Ridge coming out of the spare room and into the living room. Of course, I would've never dreamed, even in a million years, that he would be "dressed" as he was. I mean, this really gives a new meaning to decorating the tree.
When Ridge spotted one of those small, brass bells that hang so daintily from the tree branches, he stripped himself of each strand of clothing on his little body. He knew just what to do!
I looked up to see my naked boy with nothing on his body but, well, that damn bell. With the tied circle of ribbon, he hung it from his special parts. And just when I thought I couldn't be more flabbergasted by this kid and his zany antics, he wiggled his hips and said,

Look Momma, my tallywhacker jingles!

Now, as anyone who knows me can confirm, I'm not at a loss for words very often. But, I can truly and honestly say that Ridge had managed to accomplish this feat. I didn't know if I should scold him or just laugh. Of course I want him to understand that he can't go shaking that thing anywhere or, in this case, in any way he wants. You know this almost sent PaPa Dennis into the sweats considering that when Ridge tried to pee in the grass at Mikayla's party, he reacted as though he was spraying liquid anthrax on all the other children. However, I also don't extinguish the playful joy in him and I don't want to make him think privates are totally taboo. I mean, he had no idea this might freak some folks out. I had a little talk with him, but I tried to keep it light.
Rowdy, naturally, was busting at the seams with pride. He was at least 13 before he figured that it could do tricks, if you know what I mean. Ridge has a decade head start. God, I'm gonna have an ulcer.
But, then I thought of Mike's words -- To be enlightened, you must first lighten up.
Maybe Ridge is just trying to celebrate Christmas in July.