Then, they'll meet one of these thirtysomething guys at work — not one of the real good ones, just one of those single thirtysomething guys who "relates" better to younger dudes and enjoys deluding himself into thinking he's somebody's mentor. Well, that guy doesn't have any money either. But he totally has chicks! What's his secret? Chivalry. It's fun, free, it gets you laid and as a bonus, totally makes dudes feel superior to one another. Just ask Tracie! (She's dating a 22-year-old.)

Disrespect Is The New Chivalry [NPR]

I couldn't find any specific written laws (by state, that is) that says that road head is a no-no. But that's actually because in so many states, regular, plain ol' BJs are totally illegal, no matter where you're giving or receiving them. Many states have ye olde tyme-y anti-gay rules that outlaw any sex that isn't penis/vagina. Here are a list that I was able to put together.

Alabama (not surprising, given their laws on sex toys) Penalty = 1 year/$2,000
Florida Penalty = 60 days/$500
Idaho Penalty = 5 years to life…life!
Kansas Penalty = 6 months/$1,000, (only applies to same-sex acts)
Louisiana Penalty = 5 years/$2,000
Michigan Penalty = up to 15 years imprisonment, repeat offenders get life
Mississippi Penalty = 10 years
North Carolina Penalty = 10 years/discretionary fine
Oklahoma Penalty = 10 years (only applies to same-sex acts)
South Carolina Penalty = 5 years/$500
Texas Penalty = $500 (only applies to same-sex acts)
Utah Penalty = 6 months/$1,000
Virginia Penalty = 1-5 years

It's good to know that of the three states (that I can remember, at least) I've given and received road head — Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and New York — I wasn't technically breaking the law. But it is kinda dangerous to do. I haven't done it in about a year or two, but that's just because I don't have a car and I haven't dated anyone with one since then.

Let me rephrase: Not many people had both read it and parsed it. (Unfortunately, and strangely, the story is not yet online. Update: Now it is. ) Samuels' piece, unlike Vanessa Grigoriadis' think piece in last month's Rolling Stone, is not so much the tale of an American tragedy as the tale an American economy. (Photo agency X17 estimates its 2007 Britney-related gross to be some $3 million, or 25% of its entire revenue.) Nor is it, as one blogger attests, the "worst piece by David Samuels I have ever read." In essence, it is a nice bit of gonzo journalism (without the fear and loathing) centered around cars: fancy ones, and the money it takes to buy them (achieved via Hollywood stardom, or the pursuit of and profit from that stardom); fast ones (used to either flee or follow, depending on one's place on the Hollywood food chain); and fatal ones. (Britney's death by car is foreshadowed some four times in the article.) For whatever reason, it reminded me of Tarantino's Death Proof — one paparazzo's car is described as a "stripped-down steel cage that looks ready for Le Mans or Dakar" — with a lot less blood, fewer laughs, a phalanx of burly Brazilians standing in for Kurt Russell and a star-turn by a whiter, more drugged up, more famous radio star.

The conceit is simple: Samuels, who has also written for Harper's and The New Yorker, embeds himself with a team of paparazzi employed by X17 (whose pictures this site publishes dozens of times a week) and assigned specifically to Britney Spears. (The total number of paparazzi following Spears on any given day, Samuels reports, is upwards of 40.) The team is made up of an eight-member, mostly Brazilian team of shooters known as "MBF" who seem alternately bemused and beleaguered by their jobs. (They can make between $800 and $3,000 a week plus bonuses.) The story's supporting cast includes X17's owners, Francois and Brandy Navarre, their $5 million Pacific Palisades mansion (Adam Sandler is a neighbor), and a host of angry, mostly-black office workers who admonish the paparazzi as they lie in wait for Spears outside a Los Angeles courthouse. (Britney's reported lover, paparazzo Adnan Ghalib, also makes a brief cameo).

And of course, there are the cars. In pursuit of Britney, Samuels and his borrowed band of merry thieves go from on-the-street stakeouts high in the Hollywood Hills to the parking garages of fancy hotels and the exteriors of downtown Los Angeles court buildings with their automobiles: black Audis, Ford Crown Victorias (car of choice for the LAPD), Porsche Cayennes, BMW trucks, silver Mercedes', Land Rovers, Ford Explorers (one of which was famously attacked by a bald, umbrella-wielding Spears in February 2007) and of course, Britney's white Mercedes SL65. Interestingly, many of the paparazzi are former valet parkers; one owned two used car lots in his native Brazil. But back to the cars:

At 4:44, the radio crackles. "She's out! She's out! She's out!" I jump into Fabricio's car and we drive fast down Coldwater Canyon "Don't tell me shes' going to Four Seasons Again, or I will kill myself," Fabricio moans. Maxi, the Argentinian, is driving like a maniac in the wrong lane and trying to cut back into the queue. "He's new, so he's totally desperate," Fabricio says. "He's an amateur." He radios ahead for directions. Britney is at a record store. As everyone jumps from his car and rushes to the store window, I follow two of the paparazzi into a parking garage. A door opens, and I find myself standing next to her.

"Hi Britney," I say. She looks at me and smiles brightly. "Hi," she says. "Happy Thanksgiving." One of the photographers asks her how her Thanksgiving is going so far. "Good," she says. Her eyes roll back in her head as she smiles. A Brazilian pap lowers his camera and opens her car door, as if he is still working at valet parking. The pop star gets into her car and starts driving straight toward a concrete wall.

The potential upside of waiting 12 or 14 hours a day, six or seven days a week, is the chance that one day Britney will roll her car into a ditch.

When Britney Spears fulfills her apparent fate and dies in a fiery car crash, or overdoses on prescription medication, it will be surpassingly strange if MBF misses the shot.

Britney runs over a photographer's foot, can't seem to decide whether she is turning right or left, and blunders into the median strip. She rolls down her window for a quick second and looks around, confused, then lurches forward, nearly colliding with another car.

"When I ask [paparazzo Luiz Betat] what the pictures the pack is waiting for next, he shrugs. 'Now I think she can have a little car accident," he says simply.

Britney, claim the paps, is in on all of it, as does TMZ's Harvey Levin, although he is careful to qualify that assertion by saying that she is also "seriously mentally ill". Her manager, Sam Lufti, tells X17's Brandy Navarre that Britney reads the message boards on photo agency's blog, X17 Online, and comments on the pictures they post of her. (There is also a rumor that when she's unhappy with the shots, she goes out a few days later and restages them.) There is no evidence that Britney restages driving shots, but it's likely that even she — in her drug-addled and/or mentally ill mind — has enough sense not to restage high speed chases down Mulholland Drivea and become another Princess Diana. Likely.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights appears at the bottom of the ramp. The photographers start shooting, and then they run for their cars. Felix drives a new BMW truck. I jump inside, and as the pack swings up Coldwater Canyon at a scarily high speed, the other MBF drivers box out the competition so Felix can pull up alongside Britney and shoot video. The star is blasting a song from her new album, Blackout, through her open passenger-side window and singing along. She looks lost in her own world, a rich girl singing to herself in a white Mercedes. "Britney is unpredictable," Felix shouts, as he films her driving. "She might stop and take her clothes off, I don't know."

Shooting Britney [The Atlantic]
The Celebrity Hunters [The Atlantic]

Related: Everyone Officially A Tabloid Or About To Become One [Gawker]
The Lady Doth Protest Too Much [Gawker]
Britney For Smart People [Huffington Post]

[Beverly Hills, February 5. Image via Bauer-Griffin]

[Los Angeles, January 31. Images via Bauer-Griffin.]

One could argue that maybe gay men and straight women have social lives and therefore don't spend loads of time playing video games, and so are not as quick to navigate virtual reality as straight dudes. But whatever! The fun thing is this: An article on the study, titled "Straight Men Better Drivers", was published in The Sun today; but in February 2003 the paper printed a story called "Women Are Safer Drivers"; in November 2005, it featured a piece titled "Women Are Tops At Wheel"; and in March 2006, a story called "Women Are Better Drivers" (written by someone named Emma Parker Bowles) was published. So! While Dr. Qazi Rahman may have conducted a study that has him stating, "Women are going to take a lot longer to reach their destination, making more errors, taking wrong turns etc." we're pretty sure we could find a way to commit a moving violation should he step in front of our vehicle. We'll get our gays to help!

Women And Gay Men Are 'Worst Drivers' [Telegraph]
Straight Men Better Drivers [The Sun]
Related: Women Are Safer Drivers, Women Are Tops At Wheel, Women Are Better Drivers [The Sun]

Earlier: Women Drivers Don't Know How To Shift Gears, Start Cars, Or, For That Matter, Dress Themselves
Riding In Cars With Girls

As commerce migrated online and trade shows began losing their business purpose, companies like Ford and Microsoft began staunching the bleeding with hotter and hotter babes. Strippers joined the babes race. The hotness of one's Booth Babes became a question of industry reputation and national pride. Some brave bloggers even tried to humanize the Booth babes, with poignant photos that dared to ask "hath not a promotional model eyes?"

For awhile, the Booth Babe Bonanza formed the basis for my "theory" that for women all work — acting, authoring, retail, professional manicuring, whatevs — is becoming sex work.

But like all Great Eras in History, the Booth Babe Bacchanal had to end. It started with the semiannual video game extravaganza E3, which banned Booth Babes last year. And then last week we read the tale of a 20-year veteran of the car Booth Babe business on our brother site Jalopnik, we were sure of it.

"In 1989, to audition to be an auto show product specialist, it was 'read your half-page of script and we'll call you in two weeks.' Now it's more like a job interview. You really have to know your stuff."

Decline of the Booth Babe [Guardian]

Haha, not even their wives? Anyway, the real issue here is the culture we're living in: Not all women think guys with gas-guzzling sports cars are hot, but in the United States, do we take the global-warming issue personally enough?

In a recent issue of BusinessWeek, senior correspondent David Kiley writes:

Ford and Chrysler do not make a single vehicle for the U.S. that tops 35 mpg. But two things to keep in perspective about this new fuel-economy standard: The European vehicle fleet today already achieves more than 40 mpg. Remember the words of former Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld when France and Germany would not assist in the Iraq War? He called those countries "Old Europe." Which part of the world looks old now?

Women Who Find Ferrari Drivers Sexy Contribute to Global Warming? [Wired]
Related: Energy Bill Has Only Half a Tank [BusinessWeek]
Sports Cars More Dangerous Than SUVs [New Scientist]

Ray: Our theory is that men's relationships with cars are like women's relationships with men.
Tom: Look at the similarities. Is a man content to simply "have" a car? No. He has to be in constant communication with his vehicle so he always knows how it's feeling. He needs to know where he stands with the car. He likes to open the hood, look around, check the levels. He wants to know when something is wrong. He may even "sense" a problem before it's obvious. Then he'll want to "deal with it" right away, so it doesn't fester.

Talking is what we do when we know we can't fix what is broken. If you're talking to the woman or talking to the car, something has already gone way way wrong. I don't mean talking talking, I mean "let's have a talk" talking. But then sometimes you need to have "let's have a talk" talks with your car, like when your insurance runs out, or a major repair is needed, it is at these points that the precise nature of commitment to the car is redefined.

Never once. Always with a monkey wrench or sex.

Car Talk: Are Men Or Women Harder On Cars?

The following questions come to mind when looking at these ads: Did men really think this way? Did these ads work, meaning did the men and women they were meant for actually buy the message, and the product? Did women viewing these ads feel the sting of embarrassment and anger they prompt from us now? Have we come very far at all, considering the strippers, airheads and disembodied skirts we've got today?

The Outrageously Politically Incorrect Adverts From The Time Equality Forgot [Daily Mail]
Related: Killing Your Wife is the Best Gift You Can Give Yourself This Holiday Season [Shakesville]
Earlier: Aussie Chicken: Finger Strippin' Good
In Australia, The Perfect Woman Is Cold-Hearted & Knows How To Clean
Speechless.

To make matters weirder, she kept denying that she's had an affair (and her husband was like, totally standing behind her) while she and Wal-Mart just kept ratcheting and ratcheting up the legal stakes and smearing one another in the press until...well, until now.

Because the saga appears to be finally over. Julie Roehm gets no money, and also, because like everyone in marketing she's a bubbly narcissistic princess of self-hype and no one really likes her, she gets no sympathy, as conveyed through the copy of this parody ad that's been making the rounds on the internet:

If you come to Wal-Mart, please don't fuck your co-workers. But if you do, and we fire you, please don't fuck us with your frivolous lawsuit. Because our legal team will fuck you for every penny you've got...right down to your kid's college fund. Guaranteed.

Speeding Australian men cut down to size [Telegraph]
Earlier: Dude-Drivers Down Under: Wild And Maybe Not So Well-Hung?

There is no law in the country that explicitly states that women cannot drive — the ban comes from a strict interpretation of the patriarchal requirement that women be accompanied by a legal guardian in public.

Islamic scholars argue that allowing women to drive would mean they might interact with non-related men such as police officers or car mechanics - and that would be the start of a slippery slope.

Critics counter that the alternative is to use drivers who are also likely to be strangers. Women who cannot afford the $150-$200 a month needed to employ a driver must rely on male relatives to drive them. The ban applies to foreign women residents as well as Saudi citizens.

Over on Feministing, editor Samhita Mukhopadhyay notes that since Saudi Arabia's economy is based on oil consumption — and Western nations are so friendly with the Saudi government — it is particularly disturbing that women there can't drive. All we have to say is thank Allah we don't live in Saudi Arabia.

Saudi Women Fight Driving Ban [Guardian]
Related: Women in Saudi Arabia Still Can't Drive [Feministing]

The study noted where one-handed drivers preferred to put their spare hand. It found that 46 per cent of men rested it on the gear stick. Just 31 per cent of women did this.

But although only 27 per cent of men put their spare hand in their lap, 39 per cent of women did.

Why Women Drive With Two Hands And Men With Only One [DailyMail]
Earlier: Why Don't More Women Love Cars [Jalopnik]
Women Drivers Don't Know How To Shift Gears, Start Cars, Or, For That Matter, Dress Themselves
One Problem With Last Night's Sopranos Finale

Unbeknownst to us (yeah we don't get out much) waving one's pinky finger is the universal sign for intimating that a guy has a cocktail wiener for a penis, and apparently, insulting an Aussie's manhood is a more effective way to shame him into slowing down than images of death and dismemberment. Good to know! We'll try that next time we go on a road trip with our Aussie boyfriend, because screaming at him sure doesn't seem to fucking work.
Australian Drivers Hit Below Belt [BBC]
Related: Vienna Sausages [ConAgraFoods]

[Beverly Hills, June 20. Image via x17]

Sheila Driving Shoe Makes High-Heel And Toeing A Reality [Autoblog]
Related: New Weapon In War On Breast Cancer: Pink Trimmed Mustangs! [Jalopnik]

Mobil Ad: Women Drivers [Modern Mechanix]
Earlier: One Problem With Last Night's 'Sopranos' Finale

And then blah blah 42 pages about other ethical stuff that isn't about sex. But dude, "Wal-Tart". We had to use it, right?

Fired Wal Mart executive claims ethics rules were violated [WSJ]
Earlier: Sluts of Corporate America Watch: Julie Roehm's Husband Even More Delusional Than Maria Bartiromo's!