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Barbra Streisand, Miss Vermont, And Your Website

timothy posted more than 10 years ago | from the she-said-he-said-she-said-he-shot dept.

Privacy 744

An anonymous reader writes "The NYTimes (sign up for free subscription) is reporting about a person who wrote about a prior relationship with a former Miss Vermont. He was ordered to remove any reference to the former Miss Vermont or the relationship by court order. This ruling has obvious implications for the First Amendment if allowed to stand. I wonder if I can get the same court order applied to my ex-girlfriends' websites." Read on to see what this has to do with Barbra Streisand.

An anonymous reader writes "A Silicon Valley millionaire, Ken Adelman, is being sued by Barbra Streisand for $50 million. Adelman photographed Streisand's sea-side Malibu mansion using a 6 megapixel Nikon digital camera from a helicopter flying over the Pacific Ocean. The photograph, along with over 12,000 other photographs, is part of an aerial photographic survey of the California coastline. This photographic database is intended for use by environmental and scientific research projects interested in the health of the coastline and coastal erosion. Streisand's suit complains that the photograph is of extraordinary clarity and violates her right to privacy, as it shows details of the property that one would not ordinarily be able to see from the road or the beach. California has an 'anti-paparazzi' statute on the books."

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Yesum (-1, Offtopic)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101916)

Yes

Google's Cache to this story .. (5, Informative)

i_want_you_to_throw_ (559379) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101920)

Here you go! Useful links to this story...
First the Google Cache of the Miss Vermont Story [216.239.37.100]

Katy's site [katyjohnson.com] which ironically has a Free Speech reference.

It ain't Karma whoring if you're AC (0, Informative)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101952)

The Miss Vermont Story

This is the complete and unabridged story of my relationship with Katy Johnson, known to my friends and her fans as Miss Vermont. I normally don't like writing about the specific details of relationships or hook-ups for many reasons, but this is an exception. After putting up the giant hypocrisy that is her webpage, she has to be ready for what I write.

I must prepare you, in advance, for what you are about to read...it is as ridiculous and surreal as anything I have have ever written, and possibly anything you have ever read. This relationship was outlandish even by Tucker Max standards. You may not believe some of what is written here. To that, I can only tell you that I have several witnesses to most of the events here, and the wedding was, well, a wedding, so there were hundreds of people there.

Furthermore, this is a long story, because I didn't want to leave out any of the details, lest the story seem forced or less amazing that it really was.

And to Katy: Even though you haven't responded to the email I sent you, I know you check this site every few weeks. You are welcome to email me with corrections or additions to the story. If I got something wrong or left something out, please let me know and I'll be happy to change it. In fact, I'll go farther. If you want to write your own version of our relationship, I swear to my god, that I will post it, COMPLETELY UNABRIDGED, right next to mine. This is your opportunity to rebut anything I say here.

_____________________

The summer after law school graduation, I moved to Boca Raton, Florida and took a job managing my father's restaurants. I wasn't really expecting to meet a girl I would like, as the general intellectual level of South Florida is somewhere above "functionally retarded." After I had been in Boca about two months, I hadn't really had any sort of relationship other than emotionally uninvolved sex with morally suspicious girls, and I eventually resigned myself to vacant sex with the vapid idiots that infest South Florida.

One day I was at my gym, The Athletic Club of Boca Raton. It is a massive airplane hanger of a building; a gym, health club, spa, lounge and restaurant rolled into one. Basically, it's the type of place where guttural grunts and flexing underneath tight shiny shirts passes for foreplay. Welcome to Florida. For several years it's been the "in" place to workout in Boca, one of the primest meat markets in a town full of butcher shops. I usually tried to avoid peak hours and the throngs of scantily clad gold-digging whores positioning themselves for fifth husbands. Don't mistake me--staring at dozens of immense fake breasts spilling out of sports bras is fun for a while, but it gets old quick, especially when those breasts are attached to faces that tell the story vacant personalities do not. These women have circled the drain a few times, and no manner of plastic surgery or trips to the spa can hide that despair that years of whorish behavior and emotional prostitution leaves in the eyes.

I was in the free weight section of the gym, and one girl kept catching my eye, more for what she wasn't showing rather than what she was. She had a navy blue hat on, pulled tight over her face, a loose fitting white cotton T-shirt, and green basketball shorts. Not the standard Boca female gym outfit. Staring at her between sets, I realized that she was very attractive. By trying to hide that attractiveness, she became even better looking. The logo on her shorts said, "Vermont Law," which gave me the perfect in. My law degree would finally get some good use.

I approached her as she paused between sets, and asked if she had attended law school at Vermont. She told me she didn't, that she went to undergrad there, but that she was attending Stetson for law school. I told her I just graduated from law school at Duke, and the look on her face told me all I needed to know. It was about 7:30, she was obviously into me, so I decided throw my hat in the ring:

"So, what are you doing tonight?"

She lowered her head slightly and brushed her hair behind her ear, "Nothing."

"You hungry? Want to get something to eat?"

She looked up at me, her eyes bright, and said in an earnest, non-seductive way, "I am always hungry."

I swear to god these exact words came out of her mouth. I told her to meet me at Max's Grille at around 8:30. She agreed and I left. By the time I got to the restaurant, I had forgotten her name. Great. My family owns the restaurant (in case you hadn't gotten that from the "Max" in "Max's Grille"), so I got one of the managers to stand by the door with me until she came in. He introduced himself to her, she gave him her name right back, "Hi, I'm Katy Johnson." I'm sneaky.

I'll be honest: She looked amazing. You've seen her webpage by now, but it doesn't do her justice; she really is better looking in person. She wore a peach colored dress that might as well have been painted on her almost perfectly shaped body, full breasts taut against the upper lip of the dress, cleavage everywhere...I was excited. I have charmed my share of women, but I wish I had recorded my conversation that night. Anyone who has ever played sports knows the feeling of "being in the zone." It's when you have one of those transcendental games, where everything works, when you see the entire court, you are three steps ahead of everyone else, the game slows down while you keep going at full speed, everything you throw up goes in, and when you miss, the rebound comes right back at you.

I was having one of those nights. I was beyond good or bad; I was simply operating at a different level from everyone else. I was MJ in the Finals. The conversation was great; I was hitting all her buttons in exactly the right way. One of the specific things I remember us talking about was that she was Miss Vermont, twice, and that she hadn't finished in the top ten in either the Miss America or the Miss USA pageant, and that she was very upset by this, because she had all sorts of endorsement and movie deals set up if she had only finished in the top ten in either, and now she didn't know what she was going to do with her life, as she was finished with pageants, which had been her entire meaning the past few years. She had even moved to Vermont and transferred to the University of Vermont during undergrad in order to establish residency there so she could be sure and win a state pageant, because she was unsure that she could win either of the Miss Florida titles. My comment up upon hearing this story, "Those judges were obviously idiots." She turned to me, placed her hand upon my arm, tilted her head, and said "Really?" I just looked at her, with a controlled smirk on my face, and didn't say anything.

I've had girls melt on me before, but had never actually seen it as graphically and completely at that moment.

So let's see...beautiful girl, been judged on her beauty all her life, depressed about being rejected from her life goal, completely lost her focus...does anyone else see where this is going? After dinner, we adjourned to a bar next-door called Gigi's and got some cocktails. We were sitting on the couches in the back, when she said to me, "I can't believe I'm doing this. I never drink this much." This was going to become an on-going theme in our relationship. I said nothing, because in this case, the best offense is no offense. She was searching for validation, and the best thing to do was not to offer it, but rather to make her work for it. Barely half-way into the drink, she said, "Tucker...do you find me attractive?" With this, she literally put her leg over mine and sort of halfway climbed on top of me, pushing her breasts in my face, "Do you think I'm hot?"

The next thing I knew, we were out in the middle of Mizner Park (the outdoor piazza where Max's Grille and Gigi's are located), kissing in the middle of the grassy median. It was really starting to get out of hand; I was pushing her dress up, she was undoing my belt, and we were quickly moving towards passionate humping. The only problem: It was Tuesday at 12:30, and though the park was empty, I really didn't want to get caught having sex under a gazebo right in front of my parent's restaurant. I begin telling her that we have to relax, that we can't do this here. Predictably, she thought I was playing hard to get; of course this only made her want me more.

In response, she desperately intensified her attack on my loins, slipping a hand down my pants, and bringing one of my hands up to her now-exposed left breast. I desperately tried to formulate a plan about where we could fuck. My apartment was a no-go (for reasons too long to explain here). She lived with her parents, so that was a definite no-go. Remembering that she drove, I asked, "Where did you park?" She pointed right behind us, and sitting there on the curb, not twenty yards away, was the solution:

A white Ford Explorer.

Without the third-row seat.

I did my best this one time to try and make my move romantic: "Have you ever hooked up in your car?" Hey--that's romantic for me, alright? She smiled, so I grabbed her arm, and we half-sprinted toward the car.

I have hooked up with enough girls to be able to make an educated comparison, and let me just tell you--I have rarely seen anyone so eager and enthusiastic about sex. Our clothes were off, in the back of a Ford Explorer, where there is not much room to spare, in less than 30 seconds. About a second after that she mounted me, and...I doubt I have to go into detail. If you've done something like this before, you can fill in the blanks. But just to be clear, yes, I inserted my penis into her vagina and we had sexual intercourse. When we were finished, she said to me, "You have a lot of experience, don't you?" We eventually exchanged numbers and said goodbye.

The next day, around 11am, I got a hysterical message from Katy. She was distraught, nearly crying. I couldn't understand her message, so I called her, fully expecting the worst. Apparently, that morning her mother was looking in Katy's car for something, found my boxer-briefs on the floor, which I, in my post-coital stupor, had unwittingly left in her car. Katy's mom completely flipped out. Stormed into Katy's room, woke her up, called her a whore, a tramp, etc. Katy, to her credit, kept her cool, and told her mother that they were her workout underwear, and that she wore them under her shorts the day before at the gym and just forgot to being them in the house. It was only after her mom bought the story that Katy called me in hysterics. Go figure.

For our second date, I invited her to my place and cooked for her. I forget what I made; I think it was Miso glazed Chilean sea bass and Asian baby vegetables. I orchestrated it, as per standard Tucker Max procedure at the time, so that she would arrive as I was in the middle of preparing and cooking the meal. This is a money move, because it allows me to showcase my cooking talents while the girl sits in the kitchen drinking wine and watching me cook. She was more blown away than most girls and, after a large glass of Mer de Soleil Chardonnay, came over to where I was standing, at the stove searing the fish, pulled my pants down, and went down on me right there in the kitchen. The fish burned, but whatever. She still ate well.

We saw each other somewhat consistently over the next few weeks. It was a relationship defined very much by sex. After our first two dates, it shouldn't be difficult to see why. She could not get enough of me, especially sexually, and I was a big fan of her always eager body. Contrary to what it may seem like from the story thus far, she was very inexperienced with sex. With me, she was experiencing a whole new world. For example, consider these VERBATIM quotes:

"I didn't know what sex was before you,"

"You're like a disease. A Tucker sex disease."

"You infiltrate me and my body craves you. You're an addiction."

She loved sex with me because I was apparently much better than anyone she had ever been with. She claimed that she had been with only 2 guys before me, and given the facts I observed over the next few weeks, I believed her. It has nothing to do with her outward persona--please. Fucking me in the back of a Ford Explorer five hours after meeting me demolished any ability for me to take her abstinence and chastity bit seriously. But there were numerous other things that pointed to her inexperience. She was very schizophrenic about sex. One day, she'd want to fuck every minute of every hour, not caring if we ate or slept. Two days later, she wouldn't come home with me after a date. It was like she couldn't resolve the battle in her consciousness, and vacillated between sides.

Most tellingly, she just didn't have sex like she knew what she was doing. There is a difference between an inexperienced girl reacting to her first real sexual encounters and an experienced woman acting inexperienced. I've been with both, and she was quite obviously the former.

For instance, after a few days of intense sexual activity, Katy was having problems with soreness and was waking up with nausea. I told her to go to a gynecologist, something that, much to my shock, she had never done before. A few days later she called me and left this message, "Tucker, I just got back from the ob/gyn and we need to talk."

Now tell me--what would you have done after that message? I freaked, and was busy orchestrating a complicated plan to throw her down the stairs when I finally got her on the phone. No, she wasn't pregnant, but, and again I am quoting, "My ob/gyn said the soreness is because of you. He said you need to be gentler with my pussy."

The next time we had sex I was less selfish and much gentler, and I guess it worked well, because she came so violently she almost passed out. When she regained her composure, she said:

"Jesus Christ, you are amazing. Where did you learn to fuck like that?"

"Home schooling."

I had a wedding coming up in a few weeks, and I decided to invite her to go with me. My thought process was simple: She is hot, and is always pretty entertaining, both for my friends and myself. Plus, my friends had seen her old website, and wanted to meet her. The groom even wanted one of her action figures as his wedding gift, but she didn't have any. She agreed to go, and we decided to drive to the wedding, which was in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Why drive instead of fly? She wanted to have sex in every state along the way. The trip was rather uneventful, except that we forgot to have sex in South Carolina. Sadly enough, the sex wasn't the highlight of the drive; it was this quote by Katy, "When I moved to law school, my mother was afraid I was going to starve. But then I had a pageant coming up, so she hoped I did starve." With a childhood like that, it's no wonder she's the way she is.

We got to the Outer Banks and the groom, my friend we will call "GoldenBoy," rented a bunch of massive, 6 bedroom houses on the beach for all of his friends. The pre-party had already started at his house, and when I got there I introduced her to everyone and started drinking. I pretty much ignored Katy and let all of GoldenBoy's friends from college throw game at her. Of course, by ignoring her, I only made her want me more. Women are funny.

Later that night, the ones who had made it in, me, Hate, BrownHole, JonBenet and ECredit were all collected at our house bullshitting before bed. Katy was already asleep. At one point, BrownHole got up to get a glass of water for himself and one for JonBenet, but on the trip back from the kitchen he accidentally spilled some water on JonBenet. When sober, JonBenet is a great guy, and everyone loves him. When drunk, he becomes demonic. This particular night, getting water spilled on him set him off, so he flipped a table over, grabbed the glass out of BrownHole's hands and fired it against the floor, the glass shattering all over the house. I busted out laughing and then went and woke up Katy for sex.

The next day at breakfast was when my friends got their first indication that Katy might be a little "different." PWJ had come in at like 3am (he got so drunk in the airport bar that they wouldn't allow him on his first flight, or the next one) and we were recounting JonBenet's little spat with the glass, when Katy, confused as to whether the glass shattered or not, said to everyone at the table, "Did it broke?" No one was sure what to say, and I just laughed and then ignored her. They got an even better indication of what she was like when PWJ asked what she read. The conversation went like this:

PWJ "I actually kinda like the Harry Potter books."

Katy "I do too! Don't you just wish they were real?!? I wish I could play Quiddich and meet Hermione and everyone!! It's just so . . . MAGICAL!!!!"

She was being serious.

PWJ "Uhhh, I guess...so what else do you read? Lot's of magazines probably?"

Katy "I don't read magazines; I just look at the pictures."

Later that day, she went for a walk on the beach with JonBenet and BrownHole. JonBenet came back early from the walk, erupting with laughter. He said that he was talking to Katy about me, and just blurted out, "Be nice to him, he has a big heart." He then continued to us, "I don't know where that came from? You are the biggest fucking jerk I know, hmm." I asked him where she was, and he told us she was still walking on the beach with BrownHole. At this information, the entire group broke down laughing.

Some background info, that later becomes very important: While in law school, BrownHole made his living eating my leftovers. Seriously. In the three years at Duke, he hooked up with at least three girls after I was through with them, and tried to get with just about every other one I was dating, most of the time even when I was seeing them. This never bothered me, because either I didn't really care about the girl, or if I did, I knew he had no ability to take a girl from me that I cared about.

The day dragged by as we nursed Coronas and watched James Bond films. Our favorite was "Gold Finger" because of the scene where Sean Connery is with some girl at the pool, and when some other agent comes along to talk to him, Sean smacks her on the ass, and tells her to "...run along now. Man talk." JonBenet bet me I wouldn't do this to Katy at the reception. I'm sorry, did you just call out Tucker Max? About disrespecting a whore? My friends know how to push my buttons, so fasten your seatbelts folks, good times are ahead...

Katy eventually came back to the house, and my friends quizzed her about her conversation with BrownHole, laughing the whole time, as Katy recounted the wonderful conversation she had with him, and what a good listener he was, etc. Eventually PWJ had enough and let her in on the secret,

"Katy, [BrownHole] is trying to hook up with you."

"No, he's being so nice."

Isn't blind naiveté charming? Like the idiots we were, we got so caught up in beer and Bond that before we realized, it was 5pm and the ceremony had already started. We threw on our clothes and got there just in time to see them take their vows. Like a bunch of assholes, we walked right in and sat in the pews, ignoring the people standing in the back of the church. Our entrance was made even more distracting by Miss Vermont's ensemble. She wore a red dress. Not only a red dress, a short, skin tight, strapless red dress. With sequins. And a push up bra. I heard one wedding guest whisper something about "the girl with the boobs." It made me proud. Not many people realize that "Here Comes the Bride" is taken from a Wagner opera involving a prostitute, but it was appropriate for Miss Vermont. PWJ had actually made it on time because he was playing guitar in the wedding, and was so distracted by our entrance that he forgot the music to "Canon in D" halfway into it. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to my life.

After disrupting the wedding, it was time to ruin the reception. The reception was at a bed and breakfast that was only accessible via a long dirt road, so most people parked their cars at a gas station and took a van that was rented to shuttle people back and forth. Katy and I instead drove her Explorer there, and thus got a nice early start on the drinking. Katy is an utterly unaccomplished drinker, her skill akin to that of a 17 year old high school girl. Well, as soon as we got there, she followed my lead and got a martini.

Tucker "What are you doing? You can't handle your liquor. Be careful."

Katy "I'm fine. I can do it. Don't worry."

File this under "Obvious Foreshadowing."

Everyone poured into the reception area, and once the crowd was large enough, it was time to settle the bet. I was in a group with JonBenet, PWJ, ECredit and Hate. Katy came up and started talking to the group. After about ten minutes, JonBenet and I exchanged glances, I slapped her on the ass, and said: "Run along baby. It's time for Man-Talk." Thankfully, my friends held it together. She gave a slightly hurt look, an "OK," and walked off. They all immediately broke down laughing. I took my deserving place as King of the Reception! It may have been GoldenBoy's wedding, but I had won the crown!

For a while. Though it was funny at the time, this one act set off a remarkable chain reaction, catapulting Katy out of the "random whore" category and into the "remarkable whore" category, and leading all the way to this story. Here is how: After such a curt brush off by me, Katy, presumably to make me jealous, started talking to GoldenBoy's friends, the same ones that she was talking to the night before. They had no idea she was such a novice drinker, and fed her about 3 cosmopolitans over the next hour or so. I wasn't paying much attention, until she wandered over to where I was and said: "Is Man-Talk over?"

Oh Great Holy Jesus. Her speech was slurred to a degree that would make a dock worker blush. I just shook my head in a "I can't believe this is happening" sort of way, and turned away from her. Three minutes later, I hear a giant crash behind me, and turn to find Katy wobbling around, staring at a smashed martini glass at her feet. Someone behind me, I think it was JonBenet, said, "I guess it did broke."

It was 7pm. Dinner wasn't until 8:30.

All of GoldenBoy's friends quickly helped her clean up. I grabbed some chunky college girl that PWJ had been hitting on, who had a room at the bed and breakfast, and told her, "You need to look after her. She is already shit faced. Take her to your room and put her to bed." Then I refilled my drink and walked to a separate part of the party. I had to leave, because I was pissed at her and at myself.

Additional back story: When I asked GoldenBoy if I could bring Miss Vermont to his wedding, he and his fiance said it was fine with them, but GoldenBoy, knowing me as well as he does, solicited a promise from me: "Tucker, this is my wedding. You can't bring one of your typical 'girlfriends' and dump her in the middle of it because you get bored with her. She is welcome to come, but no scenes, okay?" I agreed and gave him my solemn promise on this. Now, I know what you are thinking, "Hey you're Tucker Max. If he can't take a joke, fuck him, right?" Normally, I would agree, but this is a different situation. GoldenBoy is one of my best friends on earth, and I am extraordinarily loyal to my friends, so I was genuinely distressed about this development. Of course, I was the main reason for the impending disaster, but still, I was upset about it.

After about an hour, I went up to check on Katy. She was laying on the girl's bed, barely awake, muttering the same thing over and over: "I never drink. I shouldn't have done this. I never drink. I just wanted Tucker to like me. I never drink like this." Oh man. This was just not going well. By this point, I have started to approach Shit-Housed, and am upset about breaking my promise to GoldenBoy. Burying these "emotions" in alcohol is my only way of dealing with it.

We all eventually sit down to dinner, with Katy still passed out upstairs. GoldenBoy and his wife have seated me at a table at the back of the room. It is quite obviously the "drunk, boisterous and embarrassing friends" table. The table is, along with me and a vacant spot for Miss Vermont, a very interesting cast of characters. GoldenBoy's high school friend, we'll call him "TheShepard," was across the table from me. He is a 6'4" huge Irish Catholic guy that can drink like, well, an Irish Catholic, and has repeatedly been arrested for breaking every type of law related to drinking, including public intoxication, underage consumption, disturbing the peace, bar fighting etc. TheShepard's sister, we'll call her PornStar, a hot redhead who can drink almost as much as TheShepard, was on my other side, and the rest of the table was a motley crue of misfits and heavy drinkers. Strangely, I was the only one of the law school friends there. I guess the bride and groom wanted to avoid the destructive synergy that occurs when you get more than one of us together.

PornStar is loving me. With a hot girl paying attention to me, and gallons of vodka coursing through my veins, I am hitting on all the Tucker Max cylinders. I have the table in tears laughing, telling them the standard TMax stories, making fun of my passed out date, etc. PornStar came to the wedding dateless and had some very obvious "fuck me" eyes fixed on me. She was leaning towards me, seductively whispering something in my ear and concurrently giving me a glimpse down her sundress, a nice choice that was also without a bra under it, when all of the sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

HOLY DRUNKEN WHORE, BATMAN--IT'S MISS VERMONT!

"Hi."

She was putting on her best obsequious, I'm-sorry-puppy-dog eyes. It was not working, because she was obviously still drunk.

Me "What are you doing up? Are you OK?"

Katy "Yeah. I'm sorry. I never drink."

"Well who would have guessed? People often pass out at wedding receptions...at 7pm."

"Sorry. I felt better, and I wanted-ted to come see you." She actually said, 'wanted-ted.'

"Are you still drunk? Oh fuck. Just go back to bed please. I'll wake you up when we leave."

She stayed. It actually made for a funny rest of the dinner, as PornStar glared at her, TheShepard quizzed her about her pageant life for the amusement of the table, and I sat back and watched it all. After dinner, all hell really broke loose.

The next few hours are somewhat hazy in my memory, but for some reason or another Katy and I got into a huge fight. This culminated in her coming up to PWJ, asking him for a hug, and then whispering in his ear "God, your heart is beating so fast." Her self-esteem wasn't helped any when PWJ just walked away, shaking his head. In the meantime, I was drowning my sorrows by becoming even drunker.

Little did I know, Goldenboy was pretty much unaware of the Miss Vermont theatrics, as the entire Duke Law crew was putting on such a show that my drama was pushed off stage. And believe me, it takes something special to do that. One of the older female guests brought a small dog to the wedding, and ECredit got the dog drunk. It was wobbling around, [it was] barking all slurred. Hate was dancing with old women, throwing them around the reception tent like it was an audition for a Gap swing dance commercial. PWJ was hooking up with a college freshman in her room in the bed and breakfast while her father was quizzing GoldenBoy about her whereabouts. But alas for PWJ, this little amorous adventure was broken up by her vomiting on his foot.

When Miss Vermont decided to have another drink just to piss me off, around 11pm, I just left. I took the keys to her Explorer and drove back to the beach house, where the post party was going to be. I didn't know this at the time, but PWJ and Brownhole had to convince her not to call the cops and report her vehicle stolen. Nice touch, Katy.

I got to the beach house, cracked a beer, and waited. And waited. And waited. Where the fuck was everyone? When people finally started pouring in, the reason for everyone's tardiness was conferred to me: Hate had crashed the van that was supposed to shuttle everyone from the bed and breakfast to their cars. Apparently, the parents had got together, and picked the person they thought most sober to drive the shuttle van. Somehow, much to the dismay of the Duke Law crowd, they picked Hate, mistaking his brooding scowl of a face for soberness, instead of the pent up drunken rage that it is. He hit the accelerator and immediately drove the van into a ditch filled with mud. It stuck. With the bride, groom, and both sets of parents in the van. When they couldn't get it out of the mud (by this time everyone other than Miss Vermont, who stayed in the van, was coated in mud), they simply walked.

Nonetheless, everyone got to the house safely, and the real partying started. Katy was thankfully nowhere to be found, she had apparently passed out again, and BrownHole had taken her to the other house to put her to bed. PWJ came up to me and pulled me aside, "Hey man, wer frenz and stuff, an' dat gurl wanz me." He was pointing to PornStar, who was talking to her brother in the kitchen. "Ya gotta help me. She says she wont hook up wit'her brother around. Hook me up." I had already let one friend down that night and I was going to make it up by helping my other friend sleep with a girl I wanted to sleep with. I grabbed two bottles of Moet champagne, thrust one under TheShepard's nose, and said, "Let's see just how Irish you really are, tough guy. You're not the only one at this party who can drink."

I blacked out an hour and a half later.

[Side note: I have been told that I was spotted on the porch singing Irish drinking songs with TheShepard, making up my own words about all women being drunk whores and fornicators and what not. I was also told that I tried to tackle a mailbox on the walk back to my house. PWJ got the better end of this deal. [deleted] He can tell you the details from that story. It is very good, and involves hot tubs, bathrooms, and TheShepard's bed, but is not centered on Tucker Max, so it will have to be told elsewhere.]

The next day, I woke up in my bed.

My head felt like it had been run over. I was laying with my face over the side of the bed, and there were at least six towels laying on the floor under my face. As I rolled around the bed trying to regain consciousness and use of my limbs, I realized two things:

1. The room stunk. Bad.

2. There was vomit all over me.

I came out of my room, and found ECredit and Hate. Upon seeing me, they started laughing and shaking their heads.

Me "Dude, man...Did last night happen?"

ECredit "You missed the best part. After you came home and passed out, you started throwing up all over the bedroom, and Miss Vermont was running around the house yelling, 'Tucker is died! Tucker is died!'"

Hate "Does that girl know how to conjugate her verbs?"

Me [Laughing hysterically] "What did you do?"

Hate "I just yelled at her to roll you on your stomach and leave you alone. You do this all the time, you'd be fine."

Katy found me and started yapping at me about something. I just ignored her, took a shower, packed my shit, crawled in the back of the Explorer and went to sleep, awaiting the 16 hour drive home. [Another side note, especially if you are feeling sorry for Katy at this point: I did not find out about this until about a year later, but after she had her little hysterical fit about me dying, she went upstairs to BrownHole's room, crawled into bed, and hooked up with him. He swears he didn't sleep with her, but I have my doubts, considering that she is a shameless slut. This is almost forgivable. The next day as we were leaving, she left an autographed 8x10 pageant picture in the sunroof of his car. Then, she called him a couple of times over the next few weeks, sometimes for advice about me, sometimes just to talk. She told him that she got his number from my cell phone when I wasn't looking. She tried to get Brownhole to fly her up to DC, but he wouldn't do it. His only goal is to follow me as much as possible, not to fall in love with them.] We pulled out, and I fell back asleep.

I was jarred awake not 30 minutes later as we got pulled over and got a ticket. The violation: going 70 in a 45. Katy wanted to get home. I drifted in and out of consciousness over the next ten hours. As we drove into South Carolina, I reminded her of two facts: The South Carolina State Police make their living with speed traps on Interstates, and we hadn't sex in that state yet. She ignored me, so I went back to sleep. I was awaken 30 minutes later by her hysterical sobbing. We got pulled over again, this time for going 95 in a 65. I told her to stop crying, that State Police don't fall for that shit.

"SHUT UP--THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO FIND OUT ABOUT THESE TICKETS!! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?!? THEY ARE GOING TO KNOW I WENT TO NORTH CAROLINA"

"When are we going to fuck? We're almost out of South Carolina."

"SHUT UP YOU ASSHOLE!!"

I didn't call her or anything over the next week, and just figured I had burned down another relationship, when she called me one day at work. She apologized for her actions at the wedding, and asked if she could see me again, that she had something for me. I told her to come by the restaurant, that I would see her. I alerted my staff that a crazy woman was coming and to possibly be ready to call the cops. She showed up in a skin tight white tank top, breasts thrust forward in a super miracle bra. Her yellow tennis skirt was nicely cut about five inches below her crotch. Her demure smile and Fuck Me eyes foretold the most dangerous and irresistible kind of seduction: sexual.

"Hey." She stood right next to me, placed her hand on my arm, her breasts ever so slightly brushing against me, "I'm sorry. I brought you something."

She handed me a framed picture that almost put me into shock. Let me attempt a description of this thing: A silver frame around a 5x7 picture of Katy and I at the wedding reception, me in my suit and her in her red dress, minutes after we arrived and before our first drink. Across the top of the picture, painted in white sparkle paint, are the words, "Alpha Male." There are little yellow streamers painted down the side. On the back, in silver paint, is this paragraph, "Tucker, Thank you so much for taking me to the wedding! You are the best! Love, Katy." I was completely befuddled. I had no idea how to react to this. I still don't.

This girl was either the stupidest female I had ever come across, or the shrewdest, most conniving person on earth. I couldn't figure out which.

\We started seeing each other again, sort of. Katy tried to say it was purely as friends, but we were fucking again after about three days. This continued, in a weird sort of dysfunctional dance, for a few weeks. One day I even took her to a gun range. She had never shot a gun before, and so I taught her the basic Weaver Stance and A-frame Stance, how to load, fire and clear a pistol, etc. She was fascinated, and loved it so much she started going on her own, and eventually bought her own pistol.

One night two friends of mine were in town on their honeymoon, and I brought them to my restaurant for dinner. I also invited two really hot female friends of mine (both of whom were married at the time), and Katy. I had to work most of the time, but they all sat together and had a great time, with me coming over to the table at various times to inject that special Tucker magic that always makes social situations that much more fun and interesting. At some point during the night, Katy, after a few drinks I'm sure, decided that she just had to taste me, pulls me off the floor (I was the floor manager at Max's Grille at the time) and into a bathroom stall, where she proceeds to pull down my pants and eat my member for dinner. As much as I was trying to ignore it, there seemed to be an increase in traffic in the bathroom, but whatever, I'm getting my dick sucked by Miss Vermont in the bathroom, they can wait to take a dump. We leave the bathroom, and back to our various posts. [Side note: I got in A LOT of trouble for that. A couple of the gay waiters told the general manager, who told my dad, and well, though my dad thought it was funny, he still got mad at me.]

Even though she was probably not going to last a long time, an event that night was what sealed Miss Vermont's doom. Giving me head in the bathroom got her some cool points, but she lost them all and then some when, talking to my two married female friends, she said, "I hope I look like you when I'm your age." At the time, Katy was 23. My two friends were 25 and 27, respectively, and both were, and still are, MUCH hotter than Katy. Tucker is a lot of things, and a drunk incident notwithstanding, loyal might be the biggest one. These two women are two of my best friends in the world, and to piss them off is the quickest way to get on my bad side. Karen's quote, "Who the fuck does she think she is? And HELLO--she's not looking so great herself. I guess pageants make your face a little leathery. Tucker, you can't fuck her anymore, I don't like her."

If they don't like a girl I am dating, she's out. I started ignoring Katy more and more, and then I met another girl (incidentally, it was Joanne Romanovich, the girl that eventually became one of the three or four defining relationships of my life, for reasons that will not be explored here, but just to let you know, the beginning of my upcoming novel revolves around her and my relationship with her). I was preparing to go to a wedding in Akron, Ohio (the one where I hooked up with the MILF), making it easy to ignore her.

After a few days of ignoring Katy and not returning calls, I thought Katy had finally got the picture.

I was wrong.

I left my apartment to go to the airport, and saw something under my windshield. At first, I thought it was a leaflet for a local band or church, but as I approached the car, I realized it was MUCH too big for that. I unfolded it, and realized it was a bullet-hole-riddled gun range target, the same one Miss Vermont had shot up while we were at the range. At first I was frightened for my life. Then I realized a note was written on the back. I'll transcribe it here until I actually scan it in:

"Thank you very much for taking me to shoot a gun! I had a mind-blowing experience! I hope you have a safe trip and have a really fun time at the wedding! I'm sure it won't be quite as eventful as the last one...(or at least you hope not!)

It is too bad that things are not better between us. Things were so perfect the first 29 days. Now all we do is fight and are mean to each other. You taught me so much and you have made me a much happier and more productive person! My gossip is a lot more juicer because of you!

I wish we were better together, so I guess it's goodbye. I don't want to make you mad anymore.

Katy"

Oh Jesus, what have I done?

Not only did I teach her how to shoot, I once had a conversation with this girl after watching a war movie about why the ambushes in the movie were technically incorrect and how to set up a good one, AND I described to her, in accurate detail, how to recon and snipe in a urban environment, another area that the movie was weak on.

I drove to the airport looking over my shoulder the whole way, fully expecting a hail of gunfire to break out at any moment. I must have circled the parking lot at the Fort Lauderdale airport 10 times trying to see if anyone was following me. After a week free of any sort of sniper attempts, I let my guard down. It was then I answered my phone without checking the caller ID, and lo and behold, it's Miss AK-47. She was just as happy and jovial as ever, and asked advice on how we could get back together. I swear to my god she asked me this.

My quote, "You want advice? Go find a really good psychotherapist, and get help, because you are fucked up."

She hung up and I haven't heard from her since.

______________________

thank god for her sake she's attractive, otherwise she'd starve to death.

Re:Google's Cache to this story .. (4, Funny)

Gerad (86818) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101967)

Don't post that link here! The next thing we know, Miss Vermont will be suing Google and Slashdot!

Re:Google's Cache to this story .. (-1, Offtopic)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102050)

How come all the cartoon women have enormous teats?

oh no!! (2, Funny)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101922)

its... Mecha Streisand!!

Re:oh no!! (-1, Offtopic)

BrynM (217883) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101950)

woooobot smeeeeeet........

Re:oh no!! (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102075)

Ahhh... how we spiral off together in our South Park moment of joy.....

Re:oh no!! (5, Informative)

lordgert (561795) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101959)

I think encouraging Trey and Matt to do an(other?) episode on people who think they should be ruling the world is an excellent idea.

By the way, here's the direct link to the high-res mansion shot: huge image [californiacoastline.org]

If only... (5, Interesting)

BrynM (217883) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101929)

The judge also prohibited Mr. Max from "disclosing any stories, facts or information,
notwithstanding its truth, about any intimate or sexual acts engaged in by" Ms. Johnson.
Think of all the books and unauthorized biographies being entered into evidence in various cases by attornys who just got the news. I bet Ike Turner is wondering if the statute of limitations is up.

Re:If only... (5, Interesting)

rgmoore (133276) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102001)

I'm not sure which is scarier, the fact that he's not allowed to post truthful stories (even ones that took place in front of hundreds of witnesses, as he claims some did) or that:

Judge Lewis ruled on May 6, before Mr. Max was notified of the suit and without holding a hearing.

Now IANAL, but I thought that one of the basic principles of jurisprudence is that you have to at least try to listen to both sides of the story before making a decision. Deciding the case not only without a hearing, but before the defendant has even been notified of the action seems as though it thoroughly violates the idea of due process.

Re:If only... (3, Interesting)

Gerad (86818) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102032)

IANAL, but AFAIK, Injunctions and the like can be made without both sides present when it is likely that irrevokable harm will occur if the injunction is not issued immediately. I guess the Judge believed that such harm would occur if Mr. Max was allowed to continue to operate his website.

This part actually seems reasonable to me. The fact that the judge prohibited someone from writing about the truth seems absolutely insane.

Re:If only... (1)

BrynM (217883) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102037)

You know another thing strikes me as odd. If she's talking to teens about abstinance, then why is she drawing cutesy (childish, IMO) cartoons? Or is she trying to teach young children about sex? Ok, ok.. I hear you, she's just souting fluff to make the parents happy.

This highlights so many things wrong with (our) American culture, it's making my head spin.

Re:If only... (1, Funny)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102024)

...information, notwithstanding its truth, about any intimate or sexual acts engaged in by" Ms. Johnson

Oohh __mizzz_ Johnson!

Scanned too quickly and read 'my johnson'. 8)

Here's the story! Enjoy! (-1, Troll)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101933)

This is the complete and unabridged story of my relationship with Katy Johnson, known to my friends and her fans as Miss Vermont. I normally don't like writing about the specific details of relationships or hook-ups for many reasons, but this is an exception. After putting up the giant hypocrisy that is her webpage [katyjohnson.com] , she has to be ready for what I write.

I must prepare you, in advance, for what you are about to read...it is as ridiculous and surreal as anything I have have ever written, and possibly anything you have ever read. This relationship was outlandish even by Tucker Max standards. You may not believe some of what is written here. To that, I can only tell you that I have several witnesses to most of the events here, and the wedding was, well, a wedding, so there were hundreds of people there.

Furthermore, this is a long story, because I didn't want to leave out any of the details, lest the story seem forced or less amazing that it really was.

And to Katy: Even though you haven't responded to the email I sent you, I know you check this site every few weeks. You are welcome to email me with corrections or additions to the story. If I got something wrong or left something out, please let me know and I'll be happy to change it. In fact, I'll go farther. If you want to write your own version of our relationship, I swear to my god, that I will post it, COMPLETELY UNABRIDGED, right next to mine. This is your opportunity to rebut anything I say here.

_____________________

The summer after law school graduation, I moved to Boca Raton, Florida and took a job managing my father's restaurants. I wasn't really expecting to meet a girl I would like, as the general intellectual level of South Florida is somewhere above functionally retarded. After I had been in Boca about two months, I hadn't really had any sort of relationship other than emotionally uninvolved sex with morally suspicious girls, and I eventually resigned myself to vacant sex with the vapid idiots that infest South Florida.

One day I was at my gym, The Athletic Club of Boca Raton. It is a massive airplane hanger of a building; a gym, health club, spa, lounge and restaurant rolled into one. Basically, it's the type of place where guttural grunts and flexing underneath tight shiny shirts passes for foreplay. Welcome to Florida. For several years it's been the in place to workout in Boca, one of the primest meat markets in a town full of butcher shops. I usually tried to avoid peak hours and the throngs of scantily clad gold-digging whores positioning themselves for fifth husbands. Don't mistake me--staring at dozens of immense fake breasts spilling out of sports bras is fun for a while, but it gets old quick, especially when those breasts are attached to faces that tell the story vacant personalities do not. These women have circled the drain a few times, and no manner of plastic surgery or trips to the spa can hide that despair that years of whorish behavior and emotional prostitution leaves in the eyes.

I was in the free weight section of the gym, and one girl kept catching my eye, more for what she wasn't showing rather than what she was. She had a navy blue hat on, pulled tight over her face, a loose fitting white cotton T-shirt, and green basketball shorts. Not the standard Boca female gym outfit. Staring at her between sets, I realized that she was very attractive. By trying to hide that attractiveness, she became even better looking. The logo on her shorts said, Vermont Law, which gave me the perfect in. My law degree would finally get some good use.

I approached her as she paused between sets, and asked if she had attended law school at Vermont. She told me she didn't, that she went to undergrad there, but that she was attending Stetson for law school. I told her I just graduated from law school at Duke, and the look on her face told me all I needed to know. It was about 7:30, she was obviously into me, so I decided throw my hat in the ring:

So, what are you doing tonight?

She lowered her head slightly and brushed her hair behind her ear, Nothing.

You hungry? Want to get something to eat?

She looked up at me, her eyes bright, and said in an earnest, non-seductive way, I am always hungry.

I swear to god these exact words came out of her mouth. I told her to meet me at Max's Grille at around 8:30. She agreed and I left. By the time I got to the restaurant, I had forgotten her name. Great. My family owns the restaurant (in case you hadn't gotten that from the Max in Max's Grille), so I got one of the managers to stand by the door with me until she came in. He introduced himself to her, she gave him her name right back, Hi, I'm Katy Johnson. I'm sneaky.

I'll be honest: She looked amazing. You've seen her webpage by now, but it doesn't do her justice; she really is better looking in person. She wore a peach colored dress that might as well have been painted on her almost perfectly shaped body, full breasts taut against the upper lip of the dress, cleavage everywhere...I was excited. I have charmed my share of women, but I wish I had recorded my conversation that night. Anyone who has ever played sports knows the feeling of being in the zone. It's when you have one of those transcendental games, where everything works, when you see the entire court, you are three steps ahead of everyone else, the game slows down while you keep going at full speed, everything you throw up goes in, and when you miss, the rebound comes right back at you.

I was having one of those nights. I was beyond good or bad; I was simply operating at a different level from everyone else. I was MJ in the Finals. The conversation was great; I was hitting all her buttons in exactly the right way. One of the specific things I remember us talking about was that she was Miss Vermont, twice, and that she hadn't finished in the top ten in either the Miss America or the Miss USA pageant, and that she was very upset by this, because she had all sorts of endorsement and movie deals set up if she had only finished in the top ten in either, and now she didn't know what she was going to do with her life, as she was finished with pageants, which had been her entire meaning the past few years. She had even moved to Vermont and transferred to the University of Vermont during undergrad in order to establish residency there so she could be sure and win a state pageant, because she was unsure that she could win either of the Miss Florida titles. My comment up upon hearing this story, Those judges were obviously idiots. She turned to me, placed her hand upon my arm, tilted her head, and said Really? I just looked at her, with a controlled smirk on my face, and didn't say anything.

I've had girls melt on me before, but had never actually seen it as graphically and completely at that moment.

So let's see...beautiful girl, been judged on her beauty all her life, depressed about being rejected from her life goal, completely lost her focus...does anyone else see where this is going? After dinner, we adjourned to a bar next-door called Gigi's and got some cocktails. We were sitting on the couches in the back, when she said to me, I can't believe I'm doing this. I never drink this much. This was going to become an on-going theme in our relationship. I said nothing, because in this case, the best offense is no offense. She was searching for validation, and the best thing to do was not to offer it, but rather to make her work for it. Barely half-way into the drink, she said, Tucker...do you find me attractive? With this, she literally put her leg over mine and sort of halfway climbed on top of me, pushing her breasts in my face, Do you think I'm hot?

The next thing I knew, we were out in the middle of Mizner Park (the outdoor piazza where Max's Grille and Gigi's are located), kissing in the middle of the grassy median. It was really starting to get out of hand; I was pushing her dress up, she was undoing my belt, and we were quickly moving towards passionate humping. The only problem: It was Tuesday at 12:30, and though the park was empty, I really didn't want to get caught having sex under a gazebo right in front of my parent's restaurant. I begin telling her that we have to relax, that we can't do this here. Predictably, she thought I was playing hard to get; of course this only made her want me more.

In response, she desperately intensified her attack on my loins, slipping a hand down my pants, and bringing one of my hands up to her now-exposed left breast. I desperately tried to formulate a plan about where we could fuck. My apartment was a no-go (for reasons too long to explain here). She lived with her parents, so that was a definite no-go. Remembering that she drove, I asked, Where did you park? She pointed right behind us, and sitting there on the curb, not twenty yards away, was the solution:

A white Ford Explorer.

Without the third-row seat.

I did my best this one time to try and make my move romantic: Have you ever hooked up in your car? Hey--that's romantic for me, alright? She smiled, so I grabbed her arm, and we half-sprinted toward the car.

I have hooked up with enough girls to be able to make an educated comparison, and let me just tell you--I have rarely seen anyone so eager and enthusiastic about sex. Our clothes were off, in the back of a Ford Explorer, where there is not much room to spare, in less than 30 seconds. About a second after that she mounted me, and...I doubt I have to go into detail. If you've done something like this before, you can fill in the blanks. But just to be clear, yes, I inserted my penis into her vagina and we had sexual intercourse. When we were finished, she said to me, You have a lot of experience, don't you? We eventually exchanged numbers and said goodbye.

The next day, around 11am, I got a hysterical message from Katy. She was distraught, nearly crying. I couldn't understand her message, so I called her, fully expecting the worst. Apparently, that morning her mother was looking in Katy's car for something, found my boxer-briefs on the floor, which I, in my post-coital stupor, had unwittingly left in her car. Katy's mom completely flipped out. Stormed into Katy's room, woke her up, called her a whore, a tramp, etc. Katy, to her credit, kept her cool, and told her mother that they were her workout underwear, and that she wore them under her shorts the day before at the gym and just forgot to being them in the house. It was only after her mom bought the story that Katy called me in hysterics. Go figure.

For our second date, I invited her to my place and cooked for her. I forget what I made; I think it was Miso glazed Chilean sea bass and Asian baby vegetables. I orchestrated it, as per standard Tucker Max procedure at the time, so that she would arrive as I was in the middle of preparing and cooking the meal. This is a money move, because it allows me to showcase my cooking talents while the girl sits in the kitchen drinking wine and watching me cook. She was more blown away than most girls and, after a large glass of Mer de Soleil Chardonnay, came over to where I was standing, at the stove searing the fish, pulled my pants down, and went down on me right there in the kitchen. The fish burned, but whatever. She still ate well.

We saw each other somewhat consistently over the next few weeks. It was a relationship defined very much by sex. After our first two dates, it shouldn't be difficult to see why. She could not get enough of me, especially sexually, and I was a big fan of her always eager body. Contrary to what it may seem like from the story thus far, she was very inexperienced with sex. With me, she was experiencing a whole new world. For example, consider these VERBATIM quotes:

I didn't know what sex was before you,

You're like a disease. A Tucker sex disease.

You infiltrate me and my body craves you. You're an addiction.

She loved sex with me because I was apparently much better than anyone she had ever been with. She claimed that she had been with only 2 guys before me, and given the facts I observed over the next few weeks, I believed her. It has nothing to do with her outward persona--please. Fucking me in the back of a Ford Explorer five hours after meeting me demolished any ability for me to take her abstinence and chastity bit seriously. But there were numerous other things that pointed to her inexperience. She was very schizophrenic about sex. One day, she'd want to fuck every minute of every hour, not caring if we ate or slept. Two days later, she wouldn't come home with me after a date. It was like she couldn't resolve the battle in her consciousness, and vacillated between sides.

Most tellingly, she just didn't have sex like she knew what she was doing. There is a difference between an inexperienced girl reacting to her first real sexual encounters and an experienced woman acting inexperienced. I've been with both, and she was quite obviously the former.

For instance, after a few days of intense sexual activity, Katy was having problems with soreness and was waking up with nausea. I told her to go to a gynecologist, something that, much to my shock, she had never done before. A few days later she called me and left this message, Tucker, I just got back from the ob/gyn and we need to talk.

Now tell me--what would you have done after that message? I freaked, and was busy orchestrating a complicated plan to throw her down the stairs when I finally got her on the phone. No, she wasn't pregnant, but, and again I am quoting, My ob/gyn said the soreness is because of you. He said you need to be gentler with my pussy.

The next time we had sex I was less selfish and much gentler, and I guess it worked well, because she came so violently she almost passed out. When she regained her composure, she said:

Jesus Christ, you are amazing. Where did you learn to fuck like that?

Home schooling.

I had a wedding coming up in a few weeks, and I decided to invite her to go with me. My thought process was simple: She is hot, and is always pretty entertaining, both for my friends and myself. Plus, my friends had seen her old website, and wanted to meet her. The groom even wanted one of her action figures as his wedding gift, but she didn't have any. She agreed to go, and we decided to drive to the wedding, which was in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Why drive instead of fly? She wanted to have sex in every state along the way. The trip was rather uneventful, except that we forgot to have sex in South Carolina. Sadly enough, the sex wasn't the highlight of the drive; it was this quote by Katy, "When I moved to law school, my mother was afraid I was going to starve. But then I had a pageant coming up, so she hoped I did starve." With a childhood like that, it's no wonder she's the way she is.

We got to the Outer Banks and the groom, my friend we will call GoldenBoy, rented a bunch of massive, 6 bedroom houses on the beach for all of his friends. The pre-party had already started at his house, and when I got there I introduced her to everyone and started drinking. I pretty much ignored Katy and let all of GoldenBoy's friends from college throw game at her. Of course, by ignoring her, I only made her want me more. Women are funny.

Later that night, the ones who had made it in, me, Hate, BrownHole, JonBenet and ECredit were all collected at our house bullshitting before bed. Katy was already asleep. At one point, BrownHole got up to get a glass of water for himself and one for JonBenet, but on the trip back from the kitchen he accidentally spilled some water on JonBenet. When sober, JonBenet is a great guy, and everyone loves him. When drunk, he becomes demonic. This particular night, getting water spilled on him set him off, so he flipped a table over, grabbed the glass out of BrownHole's hands and fired it against the floor, the glass shattering all over the house. I busted out laughing and then went and woke up Katy for sex.

The next day at breakfast was when my friends got their first indication that Katy might be a little different. PWJ had come in at like 3am (he got so drunk in the airport bar that they wouldn't allow him on his first flight, or the next one) and we were recounting JonBenet's little spat with the glass, when Katy, confused as to whether the glass shattered or not, said to everyone at the table, Did it broke? No one was sure what to say, and I just laughed and then ignored her. They got an even better indication of what she was like when PWJ asked what she read. The conversation went like this:

PWJ "I actually kinda like the Harry Potter books."

Katy "I do too! Don't you just wish they were real?!? I wish I could play Quiddich and meet Hermione and everyone!! It's just so . . . MAGICAL!!!!"

She was being serious.

PWJ Uhhh, I guess...so what else do you read? Lot's of magazines probably?

Katy I don't read magazines; I just look at the pictures.

Later that day, she went for a walk on the beach with JonBenet and BrownHole. JonBenet came back early from the walk, erupting with laughter. He said that he was talking to Katy about me, and just blurted out, Be nice to him, he has a big heart. He then continued to us, I don't know where that came from? You are the biggest fucking jerk I know, hmm. I asked him where she was, and he told us she was still walking on the beach with BrownHole. At this information, the entire group broke down laughing.

Some background info, that later becomes very important: While in law school, BrownHole made his living eating my leftovers. Seriously. In the three years at Duke, he hooked up with at least three girls after I was through with them, and tried to get with just about every other one I was dating, most of the time even when I was seeing them. This never bothered me, because either I didn't really care about the girl, or if I did, I knew he had no ability to take a girl from me that I cared about.

The day dragged by as we nursed Coronas and watched James Bond films. Our favorite was Gold Finger because of the scene where Sean Connery is with some girl at the pool, and when some other agent comes along to talk to him, Sean smacks her on the ass, and tells her to ...run along now. Man talk. JonBenet bet me I wouldn't do this to Katy at the reception. I'm sorry, did you just call out Tucker Max? About disrespecting a whore? My friends know how to push my buttons, so fasten your seatbelts folks, good times are ahead...

Katy eventually came back to the house, and my friends quizzed her about her conversation with BrownHole, laughing the whole time, as Katy recounted the wonderful conversation she had with him, and what a good listener he was, etc. Eventually PWJ had enough and let her in on the secret,

"Katy, [BrownHole] is trying to hook up with you."

"No, he's being so nice."

Isn't blind naiveté charming? Like the idiots we were, we got so caught up in beer and Bond that before we realized, it was 5pm and the ceremony had already started. We threw on our clothes and got there just in time to see them take their vows. Like a bunch of assholes, we walked right in and sat in the pews, ignoring the people standing in the back of the church. Our entrance was made even more distracting by Miss Vermont's ensemble. She wore a red dress. Not only a red dress, a short, skin tight, strapless red dress. With sequins. And a push up bra. I heard one wedding guest whisper something about the girl with the boobs. It made me proud. Not many people realize that Here Comes the Bride is taken from a Wagner opera involving a prostitute, but it was appropriate for Miss Vermont. PWJ had actually made it on time because he was playing guitar in the wedding, and was so distracted by our entrance that he forgot the music to Canon in D halfway into it. Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to my life.

After disrupting the wedding, it was time to ruin the reception. The reception was at a bed and breakfast that was only accessible via a long dirt road, so most people parked their cars at a gas station and took a van that was rented to shuttle people back and forth. Katy and I instead drove her Explorer there, and thus got a nice early start on the drinking. Katy is an utterly unaccomplished drinker, her skill akin to that of a 17 year old high school girl. Well, as soon as we got there, she followed my lead and got a martini.

Tucker What are you doing? You can't handle your liquor. Be careful.

Katy I'm fine. I can do it. Don't worry.

File this under Obvious Foreshadowing.

Everyone poured into the reception area, and once the crowd was large enough, it was time to settle the bet. I was in a group with JonBenet, PWJ, ECredit and Hate. Katy came up and started talking to the group. After about ten minutes, JonBenet and I exchanged glances, I slapped her on the ass, and said: "Run along baby. It's time for Man-Talk." Thankfully, my friends held it together. She gave a slightly hurt look, an OK, and walked off. They all immediately broke down laughing. I took my deserving place as King of the Reception! It may have been GoldenBoy's wedding, but I had won the crown!

For a while. Though it was funny at the time, this one act set off a remarkable chain reaction, catapulting Katy out of the random whore category and into the remarkable whore category, and leading all the way to this story. Here is how: After such a curt brush off by me, Katy, presumably to make me jealous, started talking to GoldenBoy's friends, the same ones that she was talking to the night before. They had no idea she was such a novice drinker, and fed her about 3 cosmopolitans over the next hour or so. I wasn't paying much attention, until she wandered over to where I was and said: "Is Man-Talk over?"

Oh Great Holy Jesus. Her speech was slurred to a degree that would make a dock worker blush. I just shook my head in a I can't believe this is happening sort of way, and turned away from her. Three minutes later, I hear a giant crash behind me, and turn to find Katy wobbling around, staring at a smashed martini glass at her feet. Someone behind me, I think it was JonBenet, said, I guess it did broke.

It was 7pm. Dinner wasn't until 8:30.

All of GoldenBoy's friends quickly helped her clean up. I grabbed some chunky college girl that PWJ had been hitting on, who had a room at the bed and breakfast, and told her, You need to look after her. She is already shit faced. Take her to your room and put her to bed. Then I refilled my drink and walked to a separate part of the party. I had to leave, because I was pissed at her and at myself.

Additional back story: When I asked GoldenBoy if I could bring Miss Vermont to his wedding, he and his fiance said it was fine with them, but GoldenBoy, knowing me as well as he does, solicited a promise from me: Tucker, this is my wedding. You can't bring one of your typical 'girlfriends' and dump her in the middle of it because you get bored with her. She is welcome to come, but no scenes, okay? I agreed and gave him my solemn promise on this. Now, I know what you are thinking, Hey you're Tucker Max. If he can't take a joke, fuck him, right? Normally, I would agree, but this is a different situation. GoldenBoy is one of my best friends on earth, and I am extraordinarily loyal to my friends, so I was genuinely distressed about this development. Of course, I was the main reason for the impending disaster, but still, I was upset about it.

After about an hour, I went up to check on Katy. She was laying on the girl's bed, barely awake, muttering the same thing over and over: "I never drink. I shouldn't have done this. I never drink. I just wanted Tucker to like me. I never drink like this." Oh man. This was just not going well. By this point, I have started to approach Shit-Housed, and am upset about breaking my promise to GoldenBoy. Burying these emotions in alcohol is my only way of dealing with it.

We all eventually sit down to dinner, with Katy still passed out upstairs. GoldenBoy and his wife have seated me at a table at the back of the room. It is quite obviously the drunk, boisterous and embarrassing friends table. The table is, along with me and a vacant spot for Miss Vermont, a very interesting cast of characters. GoldenBoy's high school friend, we'll call him TheShepard, was across the table from me. He is a 6'4 huge Irish Catholic guy that can drink like, well, an Irish Catholic, and has repeatedly been arrested for breaking every type of law related to drinking, including public intoxication, underage consumption, disturbing the peace, bar fighting etc. TheShepard's sister, we'll call her PornStar, a hot redhead who can drink almost as much as TheShepard, was on my other side, and the rest of the table was a motley crue of misfits and heavy drinkers. Strangely, I was the only one of the law school friends there. I guess the bride and groom wanted to avoid the destructive synergy that occurs when you get more than one of us together.

PornStar is loving me. With a hot girl paying attention to me, and gallons of vodka coursing through my veins, I am hitting on all the Tucker Max cylinders. I have the table in tears laughing, telling them the standard TMax stories, making fun of my passed out date, etc. PornStar came to the wedding dateless and had some very obvious fuck me eyes fixed on me. She was leaning towards me, seductively whispering something in my ear and concurrently giving me a glimpse down her sundress, a nice choice that was also without a bra under it, when all of the sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

HOLY DRUNKEN WHORE, BATMAN--IT'S MISS VERMONT!

Hi.

She was putting on her best obsequious, I'm-sorry-puppy-dog eyes. It was not working, because she was obviously still drunk.

Me What are you doing up? Are you OK?

Katy Yeah. I'm sorry. I never drink.

Well who would have guessed? People often pass out at wedding receptions...at 7pm.

Sorry. I felt better, and I wanted-ted to come see you. She actually said, 'wanted-ted.'

Are you still drunk? Oh fuck. Just go back to bed please. I'll wake you up when we leave.

She stayed. It actually made for a funny rest of the dinner, as PornStar glared at her, TheShepard quizzed her about her pageant life for the amusement of the table, and I sat back and watched it all. After dinner, all hell really broke loose.

The next few hours are somewhat hazy in my memory, but for some reason or another Katy and I got into a huge fight. This culminated in her coming up to PWJ, asking him for a hug, and then whispering in his ear God, your heart is beating so fast. Her self-esteem wasn't helped any when PWJ just walked away, shaking his head. In the meantime, I was drowning my sorrows by becoming even drunker.

Little did I know, Goldenboy was pretty much unaware of the Miss Vermont theatrics, as the entire Duke Law crew was putting on such a show that my drama was pushed off stage. And believe me, it takes something special to do that. One of the older female guests brought a small dog to the wedding, and ECredit got the dog drunk. It was wobbling around, [it was] barking all slurred. Hate was dancing with old women, throwing them around the reception tent like it was an audition for a Gap swing dance commercial. PWJ was hooking up with a college freshman in her room in the bed and breakfast while her father was quizzing GoldenBoy about her whereabouts. But alas for PWJ, this little amorous adventure was broken up by her vomiting on his foot.

When Miss Vermont decided to have another drink just to piss me off, around 11pm, I just left. I took the keys to her Explorer and drove back to the beach house, where the post party was going to be. I didn't know this at the time, but PWJ and Brownhole had to convince her not to call the cops and report her vehicle stolen. Nice touch, Katy.

I got to the beach house, cracked a beer, and waited. And waited. And waited. Where the fuck was everyone? When people finally started pouring in, the reason for everyone's tardiness was conferred to me: Hate had crashed the van that was supposed to shuttle everyone from the bed and breakfast to their cars. Apparently, the parents had got together, and picked the person they thought most sober to drive the shuttle van. Somehow, much to the dismay of the Duke Law crowd, they picked Hate, mistaking his brooding scowl of a face for soberness, instead of the pent up drunken rage that it is. He hit the accelerator and immediately drove the van into a ditch filled with mud. It stuck. With the bride, groom, and both sets of parents in the van. When they couldn't get it out of the mud (by this time everyone other than Miss Vermont, who stayed in the van, was coated in mud), they simply walked.

Nonetheless, everyone got to the house safely, and the real partying started. Katy was thankfully nowhere to be found, she had apparently passed out again, and BrownHole had taken her to the other house to put her to bed. PWJ came up to me and pulled me aside, Hey man, wer frenz and stuff, an' dat gurl wanz me. He was pointing to PornStar, who was talking to her brother in the kitchen. Ya gotta help me. She says she wont hook up wit'her brother around. Hook me up. I had already let one friend down that night and I was going to make it up by helping my other friend sleep with a girl I wanted to sleep with. I grabbed two bottles of Moet champagne, thrust one under TheShepard's nose, and said, Let's see just how Irish you really are, tough guy. You're not the only one at this party who can drink.

I blacked out an hour and a half later.

[Side note: I have been told that I was spotted on the porch singing Irish drinking songs with TheShepard, making up my own words about all women being drunk whores and fornicators and what not. I was also told that I tried to tackle a mailbox on the walk back to my house. PWJ got the better end of this deal. [deleted] He can tell you the details from that story. It is very good, and involves hot tubs, bathrooms, and TheShepard's bed, but is not centered on Tucker Max, so it will have to be told elsewhere.]

The next day, I woke up in my bed.

My head felt like it had been run over. I was laying with my face over the side of the bed, and there were at least six towels laying on the floor under my face. As I rolled around the bed trying to regain consciousness and use of my limbs, I realized two things:

1. The room stunk. Bad.

2. There was vomit all over me.

I came out of my room, and found ECredit and Hate. Upon seeing me, they started laughing and shaking their heads.

Me Dude, man...Did last night happen?

ECredit You missed the best part. After you came home and passed out, you started throwing up all over the bedroom, and Miss Vermont was running around the house yelling, 'Tucker is died! Tucker is died!'

Hate Does that girl know how to conjugate her verbs?

Me [Laughing hysterically] What did you do?

Hate I just yelled at her to roll you on your stomach and leave you alone. You do this all the time, you'd be fine.

Katy found me and started yapping at me about something. I just ignored her, took a shower, packed my shit, crawled in the back of the Explorer and went to sleep, awaiting the 16 hour drive home. [Another side note, especially if you are feeling sorry for Katy at this point: I did not find out about this until about a year later, but after she had her little hysterical fit about me dying, she went upstairs to BrownHole's room, crawled into bed, and hooked up with him. He swears he didn't sleep with her, but I have my doubts, considering that she is a shameless slut. This is almost forgivable. The next day as we were leaving, she left an autographed 8x10 pageant picture in the sunroof of his car. Then, she called him a couple of times over the next few weeks, sometimes for advice about me, sometimes just to talk. She told him that she got his number from my cell phone when I wasn't looking. She tried to get Brownhole to fly her up to DC, but he wouldn't do it. His only goal is to follow me as much as possible, not to fall in love with them.] We pulled out, and I fell back asleep.

I was jarred awake not 30 minutes later as we got pulled over and got a ticket. The violation: going 70 in a 45. Katy wanted to get home. I drifted in and out of consciousness over the next ten hours. As we drove into South Carolina, I reminded her of two facts: The South Carolina State Police make their living with speed traps on Interstates, and we hadn't sex in that state yet. She ignored me, so I went back to sleep. I was awaken 30 minutes later by her hysterical sobbing. We got pulled over again, this time for going 95 in a 65. I told her to stop crying, that State Police don't fall for that shit.

SHUT UP--THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO FIND OUT ABOUT THESE TICKETS!! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO!?!? THEY ARE GOING TO KNOW I WENT TO NORTH CAROLINA

When are we going to fuck? We're almost out of South Carolina.

SHUT UP YOU ASSHOLE!!

I didn't call her or anything over the next week, and just figured I had burned down another relationship, when she called me one day at work. She apologized for her actions at the wedding, and asked if she could see me again, that she had something for me. I told her to come by the restaurant, that I would see her. I alerted my staff that a crazy woman was coming and to possibly be ready to call the cops. She showed up in a skin tight white tank top, breasts thrust forward in a super miracle bra. Her yellow tennis skirt was nicely cut about five inches below her crotch. Her demure smile and Fuck Me eyes foretold the most dangerous and irresistible kind of seduction: sexual.

Hey. She stood right next to me, placed her hand on my arm, her breasts ever so slightly brushing against me, I'm sorry. I brought you something.

She handed me a framed picture that almost put me into shock. Let me attempt a description of this thing: A silver frame around a 5x7 picture of Katy and I at the wedding reception, me in my suit and her in her red dress, minutes after we arrived and before our first drink. Across the top of the picture, painted in white sparkle paint, are the words, Alpha Male. There are little yellow streamers painted down the side. On the back, in silver paint, is this paragraph, Tucker, Thank you so much for taking me to the wedding! You are the best! Love, Katy. I was completely befuddled. I had no idea how to react to this. I still don't.

This girl was either the stupidest female I had ever come across, or the shrewdest, most conniving person on earth. I couldn't figure out which.

\We started seeing each other again, sort of. Katy tried to say it was purely as friends, but we were fucking again after about three days. This continued, in a weird sort of dysfunctional dance, for a few weeks. One day I even took her to a gun range. She had never shot a gun before, and so I taught her the basic Weaver Stance and A-frame Stance, how to load, fire and clear a pistol, etc. She was fascinated, and loved it so much she started going on her own, and eventually bought her own pistol.

One night two friends of mine were in town on their honeymoon, and I brought them to my restaurant for dinner. I also invited two really hot female friends of mine (both of whom were married at the time), and Katy. I had to work most of the time, but they all sat together and had a great time, with me coming over to the table at various times to inject that special Tucker magic that always makes social situations that much more fun and interesting. At some point during the night, Katy, after a few drinks I'm sure, decided that she just had to taste me, pulls me off the floor (I was the floor manager at Max's Grille at the time) and into a bathroom stall, where she proceeds to pull down my pants and eat my member for dinner. As much as I was trying to ignore it, there seemed to be an increase in traffic in the bathroom, but whatever, I'm getting my dick sucked by Miss Vermont in the bathroom, they can wait to take a dump. We leave the bathroom, and back to our various posts. [Side note: I got in A LOT of trouble for that. A couple of the gay waiters told the general manager, who told my dad, and well, though my dad thought it was funny, he still got mad at me.]

Even though she was probably not going to last a long time, an event that night was what sealed Miss Vermont's doom. Giving me head in the bathroom got her some cool points, but she lost them all and then some when, talking to my two married female friends, she said, I hope I look like you when I'm your age. At the time, Katy was 23. My two friends were 25 and 27, respectively, and both were, and still are, MUCH hotter than Katy. Tucker is a lot of things, and a drunk incident notwithstanding, loyal might be the biggest one. These two women are two of my best friends in the world, and to piss them off is the quickest way to get on my bad side. Karen's quote, Who the fuck does she think she is? And HELLO--she's not looking so great herself. I guess pageants make your face a little leathery. Tucker, you can't fuck her anymore, I don't like her.

If they don't like a girl I am dating, she's out. I started ignoring Katy more and more, and then I met another girl (incidentally, it was Joanne Romanovich, the girl that eventually became one of the three or four defining relationships of my life, for reasons that will not be explored here, but just to let you know, the beginning of my upcoming novel revolves around her and my relationship with her). I was preparing to go to a wedding in Akron, Ohio (the one where I hooked up with the MILF), making it easy to ignore her.

After a few days of ignoring Katy and not returning calls, I thought Katy had finally got the picture.

I was wrong.

I left my apartment to go to the airport, and saw something under my windshield. At first, I thought it was a leaflet for a local band or church, but as I approached the car, I realized it was MUCH too big for that. I unfolded it, and realized it was a bullet-hole-riddled gun range target, the same one Miss Vermont had shot up while we were at the range. At first I was frightened for my life. Then I realized a note was written on the back. I'll transcribe it here until I actually scan it in:

Thank you very much for taking me to shoot a gun! I had a mind-blowing experience! I hope you have a safe trip and have a really fun time at the wedding! I'm sure it won't be quite as eventful as the last one...(or at least you hope not!)

It is too bad that things are not better between us. Things were so perfect the first 29 days. Now all we do is fight and are mean to each other. You taught me so much and you have made me a much happier and more productive person! My gossip is a lot more juicer because of you!

I wish we were better together, so I guess it's goodbye. I don't want to make you mad anymore.

Katy

Oh Jesus, what have I done?

Not only did I teach her how to shoot, I once had a conversation with this girl after watching a war movie about why the ambushes in the movie were technically incorrect and how to set up a good one, AND I described to her, in accurate detail, how to recon and snipe in a urban environment, another area that the movie was weak on.

I drove to the airport looking over my shoulder the whole way, fully expecting a hail of gunfire to break out at any moment. I must have circled the parking lot at the Fort Lauderdale airport 10 times trying to see if anyone was following me. After a week free of any sort of sniper attempts, I let my guard down. It was then I answered my phone without checking the caller ID, and lo and behold, it's Miss AK-47. She was just as happy and jovial as ever, and asked advice on how we could get back together. I swear to my god she asked me this.

My quote, You want advice? Go find a really good psychotherapist, and get help, because you are fucked up.

She hung up and I haven't heard from her since.

______________________

thank god for her sake she's attractive, otherwise she'd starve to death.

Re:Here's the story! Enjoy! (direct link) (4, Informative)

DarkSkiesAhead (562955) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101958)


it's also possible to direct link [nytimes.com] as a google partner. thus, avoiding pasting the entire article into an overly long comment.

sewer pipe? (2, Offtopic)

NixterAg (198468) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101937)

Is that a sewer pipe sticking out of the cliff?

Re:sewer pipe? (1)

questionlp (58365) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101971)

It looks like a drain pipe for dumping excess water from the ground so that the land doesn't end up turning into a lake if/when it rains a lot. That's my guess.

Re:sewer pipe? (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101978)

Hey! WHo's that guy on the beach? And what sinister plan does he have for The Streisands?

Re:sewer pipe? (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102159)

It's a chute to help keep you from getting scared shitless while climbing the ladder. There look to be some steep stairs directly below it's outlet.

you cant have your cake and eat it too (2, Interesting)

The Terrorists (619137) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101945)

You want to be taken seriously like real journalists? Then you will be subject to the same strictures. You must respect libel and slander laws and represent yourself honestly at all times or you will be prosecuted.

Re:you cant have your cake and eat it too (2, Insightful)

offpath3 (604739) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102002)

Unless I'm mistaken it's only slander if it's not true. The judge ruled that he could not post any stories about her regardless of whether or not they were true.

Re:you cant have your cake and eat it too (1)

subStance (618153) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102101)

Who said anything about wanting to be treated like real journalists ? Journalists work ridiculous hours, get thrown all over the world and get crappy pay. At least in IT you get a decent salary....

Hmm... (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101948)

Your ex-girlfriends' websites?

I can just imagine the sort of girls you've been dating :-)

Barbara's house is now my wallpaper (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101961)

I can study it for future stalking purposes.

Re:Barbara's house is now my wallpaper (2, Insightful)

carl67lp (465321) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102041)

Her house isn't my wallpaper, but some of the beautiful, breathtaking scenes from the San Francisco Bay area are definitely going into my archive.

This is some incredibly beautiful photography. It's really rather sad that Ms. Streisand can't see the larger picture here. I can't imagine that all of the denizens of San Francisco proper will be suing the company as well. After all, if nothing else, this site and the photos will inspire people to perhaps take up lanscape photography, maybe to visit the California coast, or even to buy property in the area. No matter what happens, sites like these (and projects like these) can be a real boon to the economy of the region.

./ed (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102058)

You Slashdotted Babs' nude sunbathing.... YOU BASTARDS!

Check out the self-admitted bullshit: (5, Insightful)

drinkypoo (153816) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101962)

Ms. Johnson did not respond to telephone and e-mail messages seeking comment. In her lawsuit, Ms. Johnson maintained that Mr. Max had invaded her privacy by publishing accurate information about her and had used her name and picture for commercial purposes.

Followed somewhat later by

Mr. Santucci did provide a copy of a news release he issued after the order was issued. "This victory should send a clear message to all parasitic smut peddlers who live off the good names of others," he said in the release, which also noted that Ms. Johnson "emphatically denies the story contained on Tucker Max's Web site."

Okay SO. Is the story accurate, or does she emphatically deny it?

As the article notes:

[...]raises difficult issues, Professor Zimmerman said.
"If you're telling people they can't talk about something like this," she said of Mr. Max's memoir, "you're also telling them they can't talk about their own lives."

This is exactly the basis to throw this case out of court. The judge, however, was obviously under some kind of pressure to issue the order, or is completely unfamiliar with the first amendment, or simply does not believe in it. If the story is inaccurate then it is clearly libel. If the story is not inaccurate, then on what grounds do you decide that it is not protected speech? The woman is a public figure, which means you pretty much waive your right to privacy anyway, but even if she didn't, if she does something in front of someone, they have the right to report it so long as they do so accurately.

Re:Check out the self-admitted bullshit: (1)

phorm (591458) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102040)

Something I wondered. A lot of people have "celeb fetishes", and I'm sure some of them write about them. Would such a work, if clearly defined as fiction or just clearly fictitious, be judged as slander or simply written off as entertainment?

I suppose tabloids fall into this category somehow: a lot of them catch people who are intentionally in the limelite, but others focus on families/etc that are simply victims of circumstance and mass-media attention. How is it they can get away with such acts, while a personal website/diary couldn't?

Re:Check out the self-admitted bullshit: (1)

charon_on_acheron (519983) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102086)

I saw that too, and wondered about it. I think that "invaded her privacy by publishing accurate information about her " is referring to her name, address, former Miss Vermont, etc. The story of their affair would then still fall under the "emphatically denies " umbrella.

Even then, though, his story could be a parady or such, which is protected. Jerry Falwell tried to sue Hustler magazine a while ago and lost. They ran a parody interview where Mr. Falwell admitted his first sexual encounter was with his mother. The judge ruled that it was obviously not a 'real' article, it was a parody, and that is protected. Same rule may apply here.

Zing! (5, Funny)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101964)

From the Streisand article:

"Besides," Adelman added, "Didn't she say she'd leave the country if Bush got elected? Well, we're waiting."

Re:Zing! (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102142)

First: it was Alec Baldwin who said that, and...

Second: Neither could be held culpable for it anyways. The 43rd President of the United States was appointed by the Supreme Court (exceeding its authority in settling a state electoral issue) by the single vote of his father's appointee (Justice Scalia) who should have excused himself for conflict of interest since a blood relative was working for the firm arguing one side of the case.

If W had been elected, instead of installed due to his corporate and familial connections, then, yeah, anyone who said "I'll leave if he's elected" should be held up to their end of the bargain.

Re:Zing! (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102143)

Non-issue. Bush wasn't elected, he was appointed.

Re:Zing! (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102144)

> From the Streisand article:
>"Besides," Adelman added, "Didn't she say she'd leave the country if Bush got elected? Well, we're waiting."

For Bush to actually be elected? Keep waiting...

Neal Stephenson was wrong (4, Funny)

aborchers (471342) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101966)

There are five things we will be good at. He forgot about suing each other...

Free registration NOT required (-1, Flamebait)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101970)

Internet Battle Raises Questions About the First Amendment

By ADAM LIPTAK

The beauty queen and the cad both have Web sites. Katy Johnson, who was Miss Vermont in 1999 and again in 2001, uses her site to promote what she calls her "platform of character education." "She is founder of Say Nay Today and the Sobriety Society," the site says, "and her article `ABC's of Abstinence' was featured in Teen magazine." Tucker Max's site promotes something like the opposite of character education. It contains a form through which women can apply for a date with him, pictures of his former girlfriends and reports on what Mr. Max calls his "belligerence and debauchery."

Until a Florida judge issued an unusual order last month, Mr. Max's site also contained a long account of his relationship with Ms. Johnson, whom he portrayed, according to court papers, as vapid, promiscuous and an unlikely candidate for membership in the Sobriety Society.

The order, entered by Judge Diana Lewis of Circuit Court in West Palm Beach, forbids Mr. Max to write about Ms. Johnson. It has alarmed experts in First Amendment law, who say that such orders prohibiting future publication, prior restraints, are essentially unknown in American law. Moreover, they say, claims like Ms. Johnson's, for invasion of privacy, have almost never been considered enough to justify prior restraints.

Ms. Johnson's lawsuit also highlights some shifting legal distinctions in the Internet era, between private matters and public ones and between speech and property. Judge Lewis ruled on May 6, before Mr. Max was notified of the suit and without holding a hearing. She told Mr. Max that he could not use "Katy" on his site. Nor could he use Ms. Johnson's last name, full name or the words "Miss Vermont."

The judge also prohibited Mr. Max from "disclosing any stories, facts or information, notwithstanding its truth, about any intimate or sexual acts engaged in by" Ms. Johnson. That prohibition is not limited to his Web site. Finally, Judge Lewis ordered Mr. Max to sever the virtual remains of his relationship with Ms. Johnson. He is no longer allowed to link to her Web site The page of Mr. Max's site that used to contain his rambling memoir now has only a reference to the court order.

Ms. Johnson did not respond to telephone and e-mail messages seeking comment. In her lawsuit, Ms. Johnson maintained that Mr. Max had invaded her privacy by publishing accurate information about her and had used her name and picture for commercial purposes.

Her lawyer, Michael I. Santucci of Fort Lauderdale, declined to be interviewed. He has asked Judge Lewis to seal the court file in the case, a request on which she has not yet ruled, and to prohibit Mr. Max from talking about the suit, a request she has rejected.

Mr. Santucci did provide a copy of a news release he issued after the order was issued. "This victory should send a clear message to all parasitic smut peddlers who live off the good names of others," he said in the release, which also noted that Ms. Johnson "emphatically denies the story contained on Tucker Max's Web site." Mr. Santucci did not respond to an e-mail message asking whether his issuing a news release was at odds with his request to seal the court file on privacy grounds.

John C. Carey, a lawyer at Stroock & Stroock & Lavan in Miami, recently agreed to represent Mr. Max. Mr. Carey said he would soon ask Judge Lewis to withdraw her order and dismiss the case.

"Katy Johnson holds herself out publicly, for her own commercial gain, as a champion of abstinence and a woman of virtue," Mr. Carey said. "The public has a legitimate interest in knowing whether or not her own behavior is consistent with the virtuous image that she publicly seeks to promote."

Through his lawyer and his publicity agent, Mr. Max declined to be interviewed. Ms. Johnson's site is www.katyjohnson .com. Mr. Max's is www.tuckermax.com. Both Ms. Johnson and Mr. Max sell T-shirts and the books they have written on their sites. Ms. Johnson's book is "True Beauty: A Sunny Face Means a Happy Heart." Mr. Max's is "The Definitive Book of Pick-Up Lines."

That the sites are also used to make money should make no difference in whether Mr. Max may be forbidden to write about Ms. Johnson, said Gregg D. Thomas, an expert in First Amendment law at Holland & Knight in Tampa, Fla.

"This is clearly a suppression of free speech," Mr. Thomas said of Judge Lewis's order. Prior restraints based on invasion of privacy are unusual. "It has happened perishingly rarely," said Diane L. Zimmerman, a law professor at New York University and an expert in First Amendment and privacy law. "When it has happened it has generated enormous controversy."

Professor Zimmerman noted the example of "Titicut Follies," a documentary about patients in a mental hospital that was banned on privacy grounds in 1969 by Massachusetts's highest court. A judge lifted the ban in 1991.

The prohibition on linking to Ms. Johnson's site is "kooky," said Susan P. Crawford, who teaches Internet law at Cardozo School of Law at Yeshiva University.

"To block the ability to link," Professor Crawford said, "is in effect to say her site is her own private property."

While a prior restraint may not be warranted, legal experts said, Ms. Johnson's invasion-of-privacy claim, so long as it seeks only money, may be justified.

But that, too, raises difficult issues, Professor Zimmerman said. "If you're telling people they can't talk about something like this," she said of Mr. Max's memoir, "you're also telling them they can't talk about their own lives."

New Slashdot Poll (4, Funny)

Nova Express (100383) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101972)

My website reveals the sordid details of my passionate affair with:

  1. Natalie Portman
  2. Kristen Dunst
  3. Brittany Spears
  4. Kate Winslet
  5. Carrie-Anne Moss
  6. CowboyNeal never kisses and tells.

Re:New Slashdot Poll (3, Funny)

Kris_J (10111) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102115)

Much as I might like to think that all the female readers of /. are lesbians, I think you need to include a man in there.

hhhmmm (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101976)

Déja-Fark

Streissand has a point (3, Insightful)

Keith Mickunas (460655) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101981)

I don't like the woman at all, as I'm sure most /. readers don't, but that doesn't matter. She does have a right to privacy. There was no reason for her name to be mentioned on that website. One point in the lawsuit specifically states that the house is not listed in public records under her name. Like most of her property its registered under a corporate identity that can't be easily connected to her to protect her privacy. I can't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't disclosed the name of the owner, which is not required for the purposes of his site.

Re:Streissand has a point (5, Insightful)

fishbowl (7759) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102036)

>She does have a right to privacy.

Does she? And does it trump the guy's Constitutional right to free speech?

Where in the Constitution is your right to privacy codified, and what are the precise words? Contrast this with precise and clear
unequivocal grant of the right to speech, and
then explain how this ruling will stand up to judicial review.

Re:Streissand has a point (3, Informative)

Keith Mickunas (460655) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102078)

It may not be in the Constitution, but it should be. People on /. are always complaining about privacy, whether it be spyware tracking your movements, or Tivo watching your viewing habits. But celebrities have some real concerns, such as this [imdb.com] (IMDB) actress would have if she wasn't dead now. Thanks to availability of public records, a psycho tracked her down and shot her. Now laws have been enacted, many inspired by this case, so that celebrities can protect their privacy.

I'm not saying the guy shouldn't take the pictures. But he didn't need to use her name. That information wasn't available from public records, and it certainly isn't significant with regards to his work. Unless he's concerned her voice will lead to erosion of the cliff.

Re:Streissand has a point (1)

outsider007 (115534) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102106)

then explain how this ruling will stand up to judicial review
there are clearly times when you don't have the right to say whatever you want.
yelling fire in a movie theater, publishing addresses of abortion doctors, etc...
I think it's clear that this case is similar.

Re:Streissand has a point (3, Interesting)

Gerad (86818) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102148)

From http://www.law.cornell.edu/constitution/constituti on.billofrights.html [cornell.edu]

Amendment IV

The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.

(Emphasis mine)

Even though this amendment was designed to protect your privacy against the invasion of the government, there is still precedent for protection of privacy.

Re:Streissand has a point (2, Interesting)

Keith Mickunas (460655) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102167)

That's a very good point. Seeing as how the freedom of the press was meant to guarantee that newspapers could criticize the government without fear, and yet it has been stretched to the point of allowing tabloids to invade every aspect of a celebrities life, it only seems fair that they should also stretch other amendments of the Bill of Rights to protect themselves.

Re:Streissand has a point (1)

ackthpt (218170) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102038)

One point in the lawsuit specifically states that the house is not listed in public records under her name. Like most of her property its registered under a corporate identity that can't be easily connected to her to protect her privacy. I can't help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn't disclosed the name of the owner, which is not required for the purposes of his site.

Soooooo... it's not her estate, it's the corporation's. Still, I imagine it's listed on any number of "Maps of the Stars Homes" which can be acquired about town. They figured this out somehow, eh? So you suppose they snooped ("lookie the size of that nose, it's gotta be Streisand's!") or just common knowledge around the neighborhood? Maybe she'll get a restaining order against whatever blabbermouth told them it's hers.

Best quote in the Streisand story (1)

fizbin (2046) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101984)

"Besides," Adelman added, "Didn't she say she'd leave the country if Bush got elected? Well, we're waiting."

But seriously, what do these two stories have to do with each other, other than that they probably both belong in the "Your Rights Online" section?

Re:Best quote in the Streisand story (1)

Gerad (86818) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102007)

They're both about First Amendment rights being limited in the name of privacy. Unfortunately, one seems to be reasonable, while the other is completely ridiculous.

Re:Best quote in the Streisand story (1, Insightful)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102073)

"Besides," Adelman added, "Didn't she say she'd leave the country if Bush got elected? Well, we're waiting."

It's amazing the number of people who will run to the government to play bully for them when they're angry, but who feel that government power is evil when it is in the hands of someone they don't like. They need to learn that there are powers that no government ever should have regardless of the motives for using them. When you are willing to wield that power or have it weilded on your behalf, decrying its use at other times is more than a little hypocritical.

Ha ha! I can't wait to read the snide comments. (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101985)

Now all the nerds can take revenge on the girls that once ignored them for being dorks. Thing is, you're still nerds.

Streisand (1, Insightful)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6101987)

What a hypocritical bitch. She is the definition of "limousine liberal" (and I'm a liberal) who does nothing to help people but bitch about what others aren't doing. That house probably cost $20 million and the $50 million she would win in her nonsensical lawsuit would probably go towards gold plating the roof or something equally frivolous. If her and Oprah would die maybe someone who actually gave a fuck about the poor and underpriviledged would earn those dollars.

PS - I hate rich people.

No Rocks For YOU Ms. Streisand! (4, Insightful)

ackthpt (218170) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101988)

What a poop-head. And as soon as the next storm comes along and carves away more of her sandstone she'll have her mouthpiece (or maybe even herself if she's not to shy about the size of the audience) beg for a pile of rocks to save her precious shack from tumbling into the Pacific as nature goes about it's inevitable business.

"Sorry, but we have no photographic record of how your coastline used to look, so we, and the good taxpayers, will just assume it's always had that room hanging over the ocean."

BAD precedent. (2, Insightful)

falsified (638041) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101993)

As far as I can tell, this ruling has nothing to do with your rights online. This has to do with rights everywhere. Can a free society ban factual information about public figures? Nope, and if it tries to do so, it is no longer a free society. Imagine Dubya suing Harper's Weekly for saying unflattering things about him. The list goes on and on and it disgusts me that a judge has just agreed to such a list - without even a hearing. This is a court order, no trial or settlement.

However, I give this about six weeks before it's overturned.

Somewhat related... (1)

elizalovesmike (626844) | more than 10 years ago | (#6101998)

Pretty sure that the Bush admin just filed a brief supporting the requirement that anti-abortion websites remove any references & personal information to abortion providers

beauty queens are so boring...

not to mention so beholden to anyone who mighta caught a bare-chested pic of them from ages, say, about 12 and up....

their entire currency relies upon a manufactured (most likely) image of purity or born-again purity as the case may be...

In any event, this seems fair to me... After all you can't use a corporate image w/o getting copyright permission (else you're subject to infringement)... So why should it be any different for us...

Though I do wonder what implications, if any, this has for websites like Dr. Norman Matloff's that list proponents and opponents (of L1, H-1 visa programs in this case). Even though that's negative advertising in a sense versus what Tucker is trying to do here -- which is appropriate his ex's image positively (and who can blame him! Everyone knows women score men by the women those men date) -- which I'd describe as "positive advertising."

On second though, being a strict constructionist, perhaps Max outta be able to speak his peace! er.. piece as the case may be...

PLEASE STOP USING NYTIMES (2, Informative)

stienman (51024) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102005)

Why oh why do so many story submitters encourage us to visit a site which requires some small amount of personal information to gain access to something which is freely available in so many other places????

Google News [google.com] has a whole list of news stories [google.com] about this event.

-Adam

Re:PLEASE STOP USING NYTIMES (0, Offtopic)

Gerad (86818) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102047)

Why oh why do so many commenters encourage us to karma whore by complaining about an issue like this that has been discussed to death several times already?

Re:PLEASE STOP USING NYTIMES (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102053)

Because it is a large and reputable (-1 flamebait) news source.

It's a stupid registration form. Just lie if you don't want them to know who you are...

Re:PLEASE STOP USING NYTIMES (1)

BrynM (217883) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102061)

Actually, I think you're seeing more and more sources of information ask you for some of yours first. To the corporate world, it's becoming a kind of informational barter, except we can't make cash off of the deal so easily.

Re:PLEASE STOP USING NYTIMES (2, Interesting)

stevejsmith (614145) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102071)

Uh...because it's damned good journalism and most people don't mind giving a little back (when this "a little" happens just to be the satisfaction of them being able to confirm that they have x amount of readers, and don't use it for anything else other than that)? You don't think those articles write themselves and the writers live off of your wet dreams of free everything, do you?

Re:PLEASE STOP USING NYTIMES (4, Informative)

LordNimon (85072) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102102)

God, you people are such morons. Just use the userid/password of cypherphunks/cypherphunks like everyone else and be done with it!

Libel (2, Interesting)

drdale (677421) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102008)

Shouldn't the Miss Vermont case be handled under libel law? (This is a question for the lawyers, not an anssertion). As a public figure, she might have a tough time winning a libel suit.

Re:Libel (4, Funny)

outsider007 (115534) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102128)

As a public figure, she might have a tough time winning a libel suit.
and this, my firends, is why you must always secretly videotape sexual encounters with hot chicks.

Close your eyes when on an airplane or cruise ship (5, Insightful)

Brian_Ellenberger (308720) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102011)

Streisand's suit complains that the photograph is of extraordinary clarity and violates her right to privacy, as it shows details of the property that one would not ordinarily be able to see from the road or the beach.

So under "right to privacy", we are never allowed to include someone's home in a photograph? I guess that makes this product [nvidia.com] completely illegal.

Or is it only rich and famous Hollywood stars whose homes are covered by "privacy" acts. After all, who would want to look at a picture of my shaby old 200K home.

Streisand only seems like she is for the "little people" when it benefits her---either by raising publicity for her or by making her feel better by "fighting the EVIL REPUBLICANS". Strange that it is *HER* that is fighting this environmentalist's work and not some land developer or corporate polluter. But you can be sure if she wins, every land developer and corporate polluter will be using her case as a precedent. After all, don't they and their workers deserve privacy as well?

Brian Ellenberger

Re:Close your eyes when on an airplane or cruise s (5, Interesting)

mr.henry (618818) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102172)

Or is it only rich and famous Hollywood stars whose homes are covered by "privacy" acts.

Yes, exactly right. For example, in the freely available property tax database [traviscad.org] for central Texas, Sandra Bullock's place is listed as "NOT AVAILABLE." Yet the name (and often spouse info) of every other person on her block is listed.

This sort of reminds me... (1)

ClippyHater (638515) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102021)

...of an NDA I had to sign for a previous (unnamed!) employer--I could not make fun of the owner nor of his family. I know! I couldn't beleive it either. When I mentioned it after I started, everyone was unusually joke/kidding free, so I got the hint and let it lie. I think someone was picked on too much in highschool!

No worries... (1)

jbardell (677791) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102022)

No need to worry..once the site gets /.ed to death, the picture (and the whole server) will have gone bye-bye :P

What's she worried about? (2, Funny)

hardave (87702) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102031)

In a couple of years, that cliff will erode to the point where her house will be in the ocean. Then she can build something else totally different, maybe a bit more inshore.

That of course begs the question, how badly do insurance companies bilk you for building a house on top of a cliff on the ocean? Since I'm landlocked in the middle of Alberta, Canada, I can't say that I know too much about that.

heat/kitchen (5, Insightful)

Restil (31903) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102044)

This is pretty much a slam dunk for free speach. His comments, by her own admission, are accurate, so she can't claim libel. She's a public figure, so she can't whine about privacy. If she wanted privacy in her life, the best way to accomplish that was to not strut around in a swimming suit for a national public audience. OF COURSE old boyfriends are going to come back from the dead when you reach celebrity status. If you're going to be a celebrity, make sure there isn't anything in your past that's going to embarrass you or others, or learn to live with the fact that somewhere out there some nutball is going to get his two minutes of fame by telling a story that nobody really cares about anyway. Well, the tabloids will care, but they're just as likely to make something up anyway, probably something worse.

-Restil

Thank you, Ken Adelman (4, Funny)

jjeffries (17675) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102049)

I will print this picture out and add it to my "places to avoid if you don't want to run into Barbra Streisand" file.

Wait a sec... (5, Interesting)

OrangeHairMan (560161) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102068)

This is cleary explained on the site [californiacoastline.org] :

Privacy Concerns

We are aware that we have photographed a number of homes in the process of documenting the California Coast. The California Coast is a unique and beautiful place, and those people who have chosen to live on it have made the coast a part of their lives, and their lives a part of the coast. It should come as no surprise that the public at large would be attracted to view this beautiful place some call home. We have little sympathy for those who would feel that in order to enjoy the beauty of the coast that they must deny others access to it.

All of the photographs on this site have been taken from a public place and in compliance with applicable Federal and State laws. (emphasis mine)

Please be sure to review some of the highest resolution photographs before forming your own opinion. You cannot see much detail, for example, identify individuals or see into a house. Also, as discussed in the next section, this information is available elsewhere.

A very good book about how technology will affect the privacy of all of us is The Transparent Society: Will Technology Force Us to Choose Between Privacy and Freedom? by David Brin.

So the best thing that one can do... (2, Insightful)

TWX (665546) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102070)

is to post what we feel about Mr. Max [tuckermax.com] and Ms. Johnson [katyjohnson.com] on our own weblogs, right? expressing our opinions on the veracity of the information that Tucker Max posted?

We should also comment on the "Free Speech" banner on Katy Johnson's page, and I personally feel she is a huge hypocrite.

Tough noogies, Babs! (1, Interesting)

curtlewis (662976) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102079)

It's perfectly legal to take pictures from public areas, which is where the helicopter is when it's mapping the coastline.

What's really ironic is that Babs is a big supporter of environmental causes and this project is helping map and track erosion and other environmental problems.

It's not like you can tell WHERE in California her house is or that it is identified AS her house. No street addresses are shown. Sure, someone really determined can find out, but then a quick trip online or to the DMV can get her address anyways.

Sounds like a classic case of the overly paranoid to me.

First amendment (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102082)

This ruling has obvious implications for the First Amendment if allowed to stand.

Tell it like it is bro. I'm proud to live in a country where people have the constitutional right to publish if I like to be on top or bottom when I have sex. Or somebody can publish how often do I go to bathroom when I get to be really famous.

Unreal .... (3, Funny)

pherris (314792) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102093)

Rant mode on ...

To Barbara Streisand: Blow me. The guy really doesn't give a rat's ass about "just your house", it's a photographic survey. If you don't like it might I suggest you get your sorry butt down to Home Depot and buying a few acres worth of tarps and covering up that mansion (or collection of McMansions as the case may be). This is America. If it's in plain view from a public place then you are SOL.

To Miss Vermont: Blow me. Seriously, you sound like a party animal. Maybe next time you'll think twice about getting nasty with just any guy. I think you need your dates to sign NDAs or you need to stop being such a _________ (fill in the blank). This lawsuit will most likely sink any goodwill you expected to get from your "title". I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors (and don't put the eggs on the bottom of the bag).

Again, this is the US. The first amendment bigger than you low life, money grubbing trolls. Remember, it gives you the right to act like such jerks.

Re:Unreal .... (-1, Flamebait)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102122)

Do you really want to take the risk of Babs giving you a blow job? Take a long look [barbrastreisand.com] at that face if you still havent reconsidered.

Oh God ... (1)

pherris (314792) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102155)

I thought it was the goatcx site at first. Please warn people about these things. Nasty ...

not libel (1)

Eyston (462981) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102095)

Ms. Johnson maintained that Mr. Max had invaded her privacy by publishing accurate information about her and had used her name and picture for commercial purposes. (my emphasis)

So she admits everything he said was true.

So basically this ruling is saying that he can't talk about Ms. Johnson eventhough he is doing it through his own experiences. So he lost the right to part of his own life.

-Eyston

We've seen this before... (1)

Madwand (79821) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102108)

Environmentalists (preachers, politicians) who know just what rules everyone should live by ... oh, except for them.

Oh for crying out LOUD. (3, Funny)

Faust7 (314817) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102114)

And folks wonder where the stereotype of celebrities as self-absorbed narcissists comes from. Well, no, perhaps they don't, but regardless--the photograph, taken from a big frickin' distance at that, was part of

environmental and scientific research projects interested in the health of the coastline and coastal erosion.

It isn't about you, dear heart, it's about science. You were old news years ago, though you enjoyed a brief revival with South Park. Get over yourself.

laws against harassment == "threat to 1st Amend"? (1)

elizalovesmike (626844) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102116)

So how is this any different than proscribing harassment?

Can't Miss VT make the case that his comments constitute harassment? What about the arg that his comments constitute a threat to her "privacy" -- and though there is no guarantee of privacy in the Constitution, the same has been manufactured most notably in the Roe v. Wade case a few of you might have heard of.

PS: these two so want to tumble back together in bed.. let 'em have each other and be done w/it!

Public figures (1)

Kupek (75469) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102119)

Way back in my journalism class in high school, we learned that if a libel suit is brought against you, and the person bringing the suit is a "public figure" (and this women certainly is), that they had to prove that there was malice. That is, you intended some harm to come to the person. (For non-public figures, you only have to show that the information is false.)

Has something changed? Are we rewriting the libel laws for the internet?

Yikes (1)

jrivar59 (146428) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102120)

This [katyjohnson.com] is the scarriest site I've seen in a long time. Does the world really need grinning tips?

I wish I had a daughter so I could forbid her from seing this.

Re:Yikes (1)

elizalovesmike (626844) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102141)

More frightening to learn is that apparently there is a Pageant magazine just waiting for any and all future JonBenets...... ugh

Stand up and face the music, Tits. (5, Interesting)

bethanie (675210) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102126)

Oops. I mean Toots.

The major problem I have with the whole Miss Vermont thing is that the tales told about her are ADMITTEDLY accurate (RT[F]A). Now, she is holding herself up as a model of abstinence, temperance, steadfastness... and a whole other load of crap (see the saccharin-sweet-make-you-puke intro to her website, which I'm not gonna link to here 'cause she's on a litigious rampage, apparently *cough* www.katyjohnson.com *cough*)

The problem isn't that she's being hypocritical -- everyone has the right to change their mind about the values they hold and what they want to represent. But the truth is, SHE DID THE STUFF that Max is writing about.

Don't we all have dirty little secrets in our past (like, say, those 2 consecutive French Quarter Mardi Gras back in the 90s... I've still got sacks and sacks of beads -- my daughter *loves* playing with them!)??

If you can't face up to your past, DON'T pursue a role as a public figure (like Miss Pure-and-Proper America -- DUH). Eventually, it's gonna come back and bite you in the ass. Either have the ovaries to stand up and address the "mistakes" you've made, or STFU and retire to a quiet life of obscurity.

If you're really lucky, you can buy a house in Barbra Streisand's neighborhood and be ensured of your privacy! :-)

....Bethanie....

Clinton? (4, Insightful)

grub (11606) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102127)


Sooooo... you can't write about a former girlfriend, yet any and all dirt on Bill Clinton (a President, no less) including cigars, cum stains and other sordid crud is suitable for public consumption?

error in article (5, Informative)

ketan (3574) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102130)

The article states:
Katy Johnson, who was Miss Vermont in 1999 and again in 2001, uses her site to promote what she calls her "platform of character education."
That is incorrect. As you can see at the Miss Vermont previous winners page [missvermont.org] , the winner in 2001 was Amy Johnson, not Katy Johnson, who won in 1999 and is the subject of the article. I should know; I went to high school with Amy and lived one street over.

Furthermore, it just doesn't make sense for someone to be able to compete twice. Did it not occur to anyone at the NY Times or other papers to check this? I have seen the same error in several places.

Streisand (0)

Anonymous Coward | more than 10 years ago | (#6102151)

god what a bitch!

"Miss Vermont" didn't think this one through... (4, Funny)

Robber Baron (112304) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102154)

Prior to today, I didn't know her name, never mind her reputation, as I had never even heard of her, and had never run across Max's site. Now everyone who reads Slashdot knows that she's a drunken slut! Way to protect that reputation! Perhaps "vapid" doesn't even begin to describe it...

She should be mad about the photo (2, Funny)

charon_on_acheron (519983) | more than 10 years ago | (#6102173)

Our backyard was bigger than her land. She paid millions for a couple hundred feet. And now everyone knows. No wonder she's pissed. Besides, the beach looks crummy, full of rocks and such. Not the picturesque smooth sand I would expect from a person of her supposed caliber.
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