From Moscow, news that some billionaire is starting a magazine named Snob. I’m serious.

This is a turning point in publishing. If he can market directly to our worst character flaws, watch out! We’ll see slick, glossy magazines like Big Jerky Butthead, and Wanton Hussy.  Subscribe to Town Drunk, and get a year of Stupid Blabbermouth, free!

“Honey, has my April issue of Eternally Damned Adulterer arrived yet?”

“No dear, but your new copy of Slack-Jawed Yokel is on the coffee table.”

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Italian fashion designer Valentino at the Cannes Film Festival in 2007 photo.  REUTERS/Yves Herman

Once upon a time, Grandma sent her three grandchildren into the woods to gather blackberries, so she could make a fine dessert for dinner.

The first child returned with a pail of plump blackberries. The second came back with red holly berries, which happen to be poisonous. The third went into the city, pulled the Big Con Switcheroo on a bunch of dimwit business guys, and brought grandma a bucket of BlackBerry handhelds with high resale value.

Grandma tossed the plump blackberries out for the robins. She baked the holly berries into a festive pie which she sent to the IRS along with her tax check. Then she pawned the handhelds for a bundle, and tonight she’s eating at Cheesecake Factory. The children get their fine dessert, and granny is knocking back Tanqueray martinis like there’s no tomorrow.

And they all lived happily ever-after.

Trashed Blackberry phones in a bucket during the NBC Today Show in New York, April 21, 2008. REUTERS/ Lucas Jackson

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Blog Guy, Where can I buy used underpants belonging to a major drug trafficker?

Boy, I wish you had asked me that yesterday! Down in Brazil they had a huge sale of stuff confiscated from the mansions of a Colombian guy named Juan Carlos Ramirez Abadia.

You mean Lollipop?

Yes. I can see you really know your drug traffickers. Anyway, thousands of people clamored to buy his stuff. I’m not sure how smart that was, though. Sure, Lollipop is spending 30 years in prison, but what do you think he’ll do if he breaks out, which can happen in Brazil?

Uh, track down his underwear and the filthy pond scum who bought it?

Bingo. That’s what I’d do.

More underwear postings and Lollipop sale slideshow

(U.S. State Department handout)

Underwear that belonged to Juan Carlos Ramirez Abadia, alias Lollipop, for sale among  confiscated  items. April 8, 2008.  REUTERS/Rickey Rogers

Blog Guy, I’m very interested in how news is covered. Let’s say you hear about something new. How do you cover it?

Well, let’s take news from Victoria’s Secret. It turns out they’re going to be selling their swimsuits in stores, instead of just online and in catalogs. This is big news, because with summer coming, women are facing a shortage of places to buy beach wear. Some cities are down to their last four or five thousand shops!

I hear you. That IS a big story, especially with online and catalog shopping being so tough. So then, you would send a reporter to learn more about this and write a story, huh?

Are you stupid? No! We’d send a photographer to shoot the swimsuit models! Heck, another major news organization sent TWO photographers on this story!

Other posts about Victoria’s Secret

Victoria’s Secret model Marisa Miller (2nd R) poses with models during a store appearance at the Victoria’s Secret store in New York April 2, 2008. Victoria’s Secret announced they will be selling their swimwear collection in stores nationwide. REUTERS/Brendan McDermid

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Hey Blog Guy, I read in a gossip column that you went on a date with Paris Hilton! Come on, spill!

Well, it wasn’t a real date. I won a chance to go for drinks with her, and it turned out pretty crazy. We had tumblers of Crème de menthe on the rocks, and bowls of free potato chips. It was hard keeping up with her!

I told her all about how to get good room upgrades at Hilton hotels, and how to hook up her DVD player to get free HBO, and stuff like that. She kept yawning, so I knew she was fascinated.

But then it got just plain weird. Without warning, Paris reached over with both hands and pulled off a rubber mask to reveal… well, actually I signed a pre-date document saying I wouldn’t discuss anything that happened. So let’s just leave it at this: I have an amazing anecdote that I’m allowed to use five years after “her” death.

Paris Hilton slideshow:

Heiress Paris Hilton appears on the German TV show “Wetten dass…?” in Erfurt, Germany, March 29, 2008. REUTERS/Jens Meyer/Pool

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This is a macabre story. Friedrich Schiller was a famous German writer. He was born in 1759 (not 1788 as we first posted) while his father was off at the Seven Years War. Back then, they named wars like that so both sides knew how long they had to fight.

Schiller wrote lots of great stuff and was associated with “Sturm und Drang.” That may be a German law firm, but I didn’t look it up. He died in 1805 and was buried in a mass grave. A few years later officials dug up the grave, figured the biggest skull was Schiller’s, and kept it.

A century passed. Researchers dug up another skull and claimed IT was Schiller’s. A debate ensued as scholars, um, jawboned. Imagine two yellowed skulls with flappy jaws saying, “I’M FRIEDRICH!” “NO! I AM!”

Now, there’s DNA. As any civilized people would do, they’ve dug up the remains of Schiller’s son, and grandson, for comparisons. Oh, and did I mention they also dug up the WIFE of the GRANDSON? No kidding. Someone please call Sturm und Drang and put a stop to this!

Actors rehearsing the Friedrich Schiller drama “William Tell” in a 2004 file photo. REUTERS/ Marcus Gyger

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Welcome back to Great Challenges in Advertising. A woman in South Korea says she found a rat head in some shrimp cracker snacks, and we’re wondering how they could reposition that product in the marketplace. Your suggestions so far:

• Rat head shrimp crackers, the snack that can’t go bad!
• They’re skull-crunchingly yummy!
• Rat head: when you just don’t feel like a whole rat
• Rat head, like the shrimp flavor isn’t bad enough…
• Rat head crackers - they’re plague-o-licious!

Related post: What happens in Rat Island stays in…

A woman selects grilled rats in Thailand in a 2007 file photo. REUTERS/Sukree Sukplang

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Confidential memo to fashion show staff: Now, please keep an open mind about this, because times are tough and we still need to cut more costs. We spend a fortune putting on these shows, and why? Because we use live models!

But what if we used dead ones? I don’t mean like really old gross decayed ones, but you know, just very recently departed ones. They don’t complain about the outfits, they don’t talk back and the only cost is some dry ice!

Joey, you get the lawyers to research the laws on dead model usage. Kelli, you go to the hardware store and buy all the wheelbarrows they’ve got….

Slideshow:   Related post: You gals work for the Lone Ranger, or what?

Models present creations from designer Dino Alves Autumn/Winter 2008-2009 collection during Lisbon Fashion Week in Estoril March 6, 2007. REUTERS/Hugo Correia

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Blog Guy, I have an unusual fashion problem.  

I work in Hell. Oh, don’t seem so surprised. It’s a service industry just like anything else! We greet the newcomers, stoke the fires, cook the Brussels sprouts, and so on.

I want clothes that fit with the mood, but still let me have a social life. Outfits that say, ”Welcome to eternal damnation, do you know anybody looking for a fun time?”

Sure! I get the statement you want to make. It’s like, ”I’m Lady Death, but hey, I have a whimsical side, too!” I think some creations from this Paris show would be perfect for you.

Related post: Evening, Mrs. Vader. Darth is over there…

Model presents creations by Japanese designer Yohji Yamamoto as part of his Fall/Winter 2008/09 women’s ready-to-wear fashion show in Paris February 25, 2008. REUTERS/ Gonzalo Fuentes

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Hey, Blog Guy! I don’t know if you remember me. You recently wrote about my search for some beautiful women I saw in New York City: Dude seeks attractive mystery women.

As a result of your blog a lot of people offered to help, and yesterday I found them, in Los Angeles! But now here’s the problem. When I approached them, they waved brassieres at me! Don’t you think that’s a little, you know, brazen? Forward? Assertive? Brassy? Trampy? Tawdry? How do I know they’re not floozies, if you catch my drift?

You moronic yokel, you misread the social signals! That’s how women in California show their political leanings. A chick waving a red bra is a Republican, and blue is for Democrats. These ladies were just inviting you to engage in lively debate.

Related: Okay, who had 131 in the pool?

Victoria’s Secret models pose at the launch of the Biofit Uplift Bra in Los Angeles March 4, 2008. REUTERS/Mario Anzuoni

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