Vincent Gallo was apparently an actor. He's below the list of recognizable names in my head, though, since I set the absolute bottom at Christina Ricci. You can't remember everybody, you know.

Evidently Mr. Gallo didn't find acting to his liking, and he's become a gigolo. If he was as good an actor as he is gigolo, I know why I've never heard of him. Judging from his gigolo website, dude has got a screw loose.



First, there's something wrong with a guy who wants $50,000 for a couple hours but won't work afternoons. Are they that important to him? Hell, my sister is addicted to General Hospital but even she occasionally wanders away from the TV set, and Pop Tarts don't pay you $50,000 to eat them.

Second, what's with the sailor suit? I've seen both Sex and the City movies and I have yet to see the following scene:

SAMANTHA: Oh, Carrie, that man is fabulous.

CARRIE: He can sure fill out a pair of swim trunks.

SAMANTHA: And think how hot he'd be dressed as a gay porn star!

No, straight women aren't crazy about gay porn stars, and you can't really blame them. At some point during the evening, in my experience at least, they always run to the kitchen and come back with a carrot, and after that your services are no longer required.

Third, there's something definitely wrong with his price list. One woman is $50,000, and two women are . . . $100,000.

Are you freakin' kidding me?

I mean, c'mon, every work of Western art in the last hundred years has touched on how straight dudes want to screw two chicks. If they'd used half the time they spent fantasizing about three-ways on something like genetic engineering, we'd all be riding giant chickens to work. In fact, I'll bet the Pope himself has written a letter that started out, "Dear Kourtney and Khloe."

And just being logical, it's not like another woman would be twice the work. He's already in the bedroom and already in the sailor suit. The second woman deserves a discount, because she's not going to get the quality service the first woman gets. I've had sex with two people before and I know exactly what's going to happen. The first person gets all the passion and, er, physical evidence of excitement, and the second person gets a few half-hearted "Oh! Oh! Oh!"'s before somebody suddenly remembers they've got to feed the fish.

The section where he offers his sperm for sale, though, is where Mr. Gallo gets truly nuts. "Mr. Gallo maintains the right to refuse sale of his sperm to those of extremely dark complexions. Though a fan of Franco Harris, Derek Jeter, Lenny Kravitz and Lena Horne, Mr. Gallo does not want to be part of that type of integration." Racism in crazy people really bothers me. It's extra offensive when somebody says they don't want their kid to be off-white and then they name the thing, like, Bean Bag.

Since we're talking about his potential offspring here, Mr. Gallo gets down to brass tacks. If you have "naturally blonde hair and blue eyes," you get a discount. If you can prove you're related to a "German [soldier] of the mid-century," you get a discount. And if you're a Jewish woman, you get a discount, because if your child becomes an actor, "the Jewish faith would guarantee [the] offspring a better chance at good reviews."

Still, I'm not gonna rain on Crazy's parade. If you've got more money than men, I say go for it. Sounds like heaven on a stick. Experience the wonderful sense of fulfillment you get with "an unusually thick and large" dick. And should lightning strike, well, look out world, here comes Meryl Goldfarb!