An Open Letter to Hollywood: Enough With the Sex Tapes Already!

Dear Hollywood,

Verne Troyer has a sex tape. When I stumbled on this bit of non-news the other day, I thought I was reading an article from “The Onion.” But, no, Mike Myers’ favorite piece of prop comedy actually filmed himself having sex with his girlfriend. TMZ — the site that represents everything I hate about infotainment — hastily posted a short clip of the kissing scenes, but a judge made them take it right back down again by issuing a temporary restraining order. Porno distributor SugarDVD is also blocked from selling the 50-minute film to the masses. According to Troyer’s publicist, who I like to imagine is knee-high to a caterpillar and has a small, squeaky voice, “Mr. Troyer is extremely distraught by the recent exploitation of his private life.”

Fun fact: All of this could have been avoided if Troyer hadn’t gotten the bright idea to film himself having sex in the first place!

When I Googled “sex tape,” one of the results was from the celebrity sex tape page on Wikipedia. Good heavens! I’m surprised Lassie isn’t on the list. These are very same B- and C-listers that come to blows with the paparazzi for taking pictures of them in a supermarket parking lot, but they’re happy to hit the “Record” button before beginning a round of poorly-lit bedroom gymnastics. Hypocritical much?

Now I’m not a fan of paparazzi photos, nor do I dig sex tapes. I hate them both with equal aplomb, mostly due to the lack of craftsmanship. What I hate more are celebs acting all butt-hurt when self-produced videos of their butts emerge on the web. These simpletons live in multimillion-dollar estates with 24-hour security patrols, guard dogs and machine gun turrets. But somehow, a sex tape manages to grow a pair of legs and make its way off the premises and into the manicured hands of the salacious scumbags at TMZ.

Here’s a nickel’s worth of free advice, Hollywood: Turn the camera off when you turn yourself on. You’re not even being paid for your performance, nor do you get a per diem, a hair and makeup stylist or even a percentage of the back-end — the back-end grosses, anyway. If you absolutely must watch yourself having sex, your narcissitic creepos, buy a mirror.

-Brad Lohan

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