Public Ridicule

PR doesn’t care that Eliot Spitzer paid for sex.

PR doesn’t care that Ashley Dupre is a prostitute.

PR is fine with whatever consenting adults want to do. There’s nothing to ridicule there.

The same cannot be said for Ms. Dupre’s “music”. What a bunch of god-awful shit that is. It’s prominently featured on her MySpace page and makes Brook Hogan sound like Billie Holiday. The two singles posted there are as cliche’ and vapid as anything you’ll hear in a semi-hip nightclub, with less mass appeal. I would pay her $5500 an hour just to not hear it.

Go with your strengths, Ashley. You obviously know how to use your mouth, vag, and ass. That throat of yours wasn’t built for sound to come out it. I’ve heard better singing from hostages being beheaded. You’re a champion receiver - like Jerry Rice, but in a different sport. Don’t let your best years of output (or putting out) go to waste.

You’re going to get offers for multiple magazine spreads and tons of adult films. Do them all. Start now while you’re still incredibly hot, because there’s not a lot of longevity in that industry before you have to start degrading yourself. Your music degrades you more than being a fluid receptacle for hire does. You could do retarded, amputee, midget bukkake videos* and it wouldn’t be as humiliating as the songs you posted. If you do “One Girl, Ten Cups” you will retain more artistic integrity than you would unleashing this auditory Hell on the world.

You’ll probably get a record deal anyway. You’re “popping” right now and that’s what the music industry wants. Developing an artist over time isn’t as important as making a quick one-album buck. At least you’re getting a record deal from actually being what Paris Hilton pretends to be. However, like Paris, listening to your music is like getting a prostate exam from Edward Scissorhands. I would rather listen to you take an obelisk in the urethra.

Please, have some class and keep fucking for money.

* how’s that for a niche fetish?