"Well, that's it," he posted where previously there had been over 900 Ricci photos. "I've had this Christina Ricci fan page for almost 8 years (since januari 1999), but I recently found out Christina doesn't appear to have a problem wearing fur. Well, I do. I also have a problem with people who wear fur. Conclusion: I have a problem with Christina. And now that problem is solved, because I don't have a website about her anymore, so I no longer have anything to do with her."

Initially her rep dismissed this — those whacky fans! — but the popularity of that page (second in most searches for "Christina Ricci") made have had something to do with Ricci's subsequent reversal. Ricci e-mailed PETA with an apology and a promise to do better, and they took her off the list.

Hooray for Christina's new peer-pressured awareness, and let's hope other famous clothes-wearers follow suit, as it were. Picking on defenseless yet fabulous animals is just not cool, apparently. But the stars need something expensive, trendy, and attention-getting to wear and I have the perfect suggestion: celebrity pelts.

I'm not saying we should declare open season on celebrities. Not at this junction. But why not let the annoying party-girl feuds progress out of the scandal rags and into the next level? I really don't care if Britney threw a drink at Christina or Lindsey is not talking to HIllary. But it would make some serious headlines if Nicole stepped out of her limo flashing, among other things, an original Paris Hilton wrap — complete with hair and vacant eyes — and a smug smile. You know Jessica has fantasized about an authentic Nick Lachey skin for her living room floor, I say go for it. These are people who have spent hours a day and thousands of dollars to get perfect skin and lustrous hair, so it's got to feel great. And, for the most part, the loss of your average C-list celebrity would have less of a negative impact on the world than the loss of, say, a few dozen rabbits or baby harp seals.

The only downside I can see is the potential market for cheap knockoffs. Celebrity impersonators would find themselves hunted to extinction for the Asian market, the number of magazine cover models would become dangerously low, and unscrupulous dealers would start celebrity factory farms where attractive, caged men and women were forced into cruel and heartless skin-care regimens.

And worst of all, PETA would have to start a new campaign.

Generally when his name come up he gets remembered (and rightfully so) as the tap-dancing Monster from "Young Frankenstein" and Frank Barone from "Everybody Loves Raymond." But everyone knows the first one and I never watched Raymond (thereby disproving the title), so tonight I'll be honoring his brilliant, off-center memory by rewatching his honorable gangster in "Johnny Dangerously," his messianic nutball in "The Dream Team," and his hilarious prophetic insurance salesman in the best episodes of "The X-Files" ever.

Actually he was a good guitar player, a decent pianist, a wizard songwriter, a committed family man (eventually), an insightful philosopher, and that rarist of things, a social activist with a sense of humor. I think he'd have been shocked to learn how many people still consider him a role model, but the world become a bit less fun when John Lennon was shot to death 26 years ago today.

His widow, Yoko Ono, has asked that fans commemorate the anniversary of his death this year with a Day of Forgiveness, but I'll spend it as I always have: with hours and hours of music. Are you doing anything to honor Lennon today?

OK, here we're talking celebrities being sworn in as deputy police officers and going on rounds to thwart crime. I can even accept Erik Estrada, although the others listed (LaToya Jackson, Jack Osbourne, the little skateboarder from the Jackass movies) look to be more accustomed to hearing the Miranda then giving it. But frankly, why should we care? They'll bicker and screw up and blame each other and bore me to tears.

You want to make this interesting to viewers — as well as offering a valuable public service –you need to run with this concept. Forget the cutesy setups and forced interpersonal revelations, just stick a bunch of desperate people on an island with a week's worth of food, give them all guns, and start filming. Now we're talking "Survivor"! Wouldn't you love to see Nick Lachey crawling through the underbrush with a knife in his teeth, stalking Anna Nicole Smith?

C'mon, FOX, this is right up your alley…

Imagine my surprise when I found out the person making fun of the horrific events in O.J.'s life was, in fact, O.J.. I'm guessing country club memberships aren't cheap because he's come out with a new book and two-part TV interview called, and this is the actual title, "O.J. Simpson: If I Did It, Here's How It Happened." Please note that this is not Tim Meadows doing his O.J. impersonation. It's not a tasteless fan parody from YouTube. It's a real, tasteless exhibition by a man declared not guilty of a crime who is now going to explain… what? How he didn't do it, but here's exactly how he didn't do it? Is this the confession we only get after he can't be punished? Was he overcome with the need to brag? Did he lose a bar bet?

The interview, you'll be shocked, shocked to hear, will be on FOX.

I'm sure the families of the deceased and all those people who stood by him during the long trial will appreciate his new and profitable candor. But if he needed money, couldn't he have done something less tacky, like release a Nicole Simpson sex tape? Something with some dignity?

But last night, as some friends and family gathered around to watch "Entourage" DVDs and talk about celebrity hangers-on, it was wondered aloud how K-Fed would continue to thrive after being dumped by his meal ticket. I said, only half-joking, that the sex tape sales alone would keep him going. We laughed, and I came into work this morning to see the news.

There is such a tape, according to reports, and he's rumored to be offering it to Brit herself for a pile of money and full custody of the kids. (Here's a link, but there are dozens to choose from) Once we get past the fact that divorce court judges rarely look kindly on extortion, we're left with this simple truth: K-Fed still has farther to sink. Scary thought, isn't it?

OK, so either she'll buy him out or it'll go on sale or a settlement will be reached or it'll leak out anyway, and whatever her manager thinks it's not likely the widespread distribution of Britney's gyrations probably won't affect her career much at this point. More than likely it'll make a ton of money, add a new level to the Britney jokes, and make K-Fed even more reviled than he is now. It might even cause a britney revival; it worked for Paris Hilton and Pam Anderson. And I think stars should factor this sort of thing in their career arcs.

Before that little red light ever comes on you better make sure you have all the ancillary rights and a piece of the back end. You might want to get in a stylist and makeup artist, too, don't want your porn to look tacky. Do something with the lighting, that yellow wall look is so 80's. And watch those camera angles! Remember, people will be screen-capturing you for the next 10 years, you need to look your best. If you can, hang up a poster of your next movie, TV show, or CD over the bed. Hey, can't hurt, and embedded advertising is all the rage these days.

I hope this passes and she comes out OK with whatever results. But even if the rumored tape becomes available, I think I'll pass. I've seen K-Fed perform on stage, I wasn't impressed.

Call me when she does a tape with Pamela Anderson.

She filed for divorce in Los Angeles County Superior Court citing "irreconcible differences" which, coindentally enough, is the reason I myself give for why I have don't follow her personal or professional life.

I mean, he writes and directs great, quirky, vulgar movies ("Clerks," "Chasing Amy," "Dogma") and he writes comics and isn't a half-bad actor, but mostly what Kevin Smith does best is talk about himself, his work, his friends, his experiences, pop culture, and everyone and everything around him. I've seen him talk before, so I thought I was prepared when I went to "An Afternoon with Kevin Smith" at the Orange County Convention Center Saturday in Orlando. "Ha!" I thought to myself. "I can go and take notes and then blog about it in an amusing fashion! '2:30: Smith walks out. 2:31: First genitalia reference. Drink! Drink! 2:34: abuses questioner to the delight of all, etc.'"

The event, hosted by Florida Future Filmmakers, featured a screening of "Clerks 10th Anniversary," some interview clips, and promised he would do a Q&A from 2 till 4, with the warning that he usually went long.

He talked for over 6 hours.

Aside from one 15 minute break so the sponsors could do a raffle he went nonstop, taking questions and telling tales until nearly 9 pm, after a third of the 4,000 people attending had been forced to leave, presumably for pressing engagements or bloodflow issues.

Every question elicited at least 20 minutes of response, often wildly veering from the original topic. He called friends and relatives of fans on their cellphones (and left one hilarious out-message by request), he dispensed hugs, and he talked openly and candidly about his weight, his career, his wife, his friends, Harvey and Bob Weinstein, and Jason Mewes. It was hysterical, it was informative, some of it was undoubtedly invaluable to wannabe filmmakers, and maybe 45 minutes of it could be quoted on a family-friendly website.

On directing comic book movies: "I'm not really talented enough to pull off a big visual spectacle like that. Besides, if I do then I give up my right to make fun of them."

On "Superman Returns": "Turns out Jon Peters was right, it really could have benefited from a huge spider."

On breaking into the film business: "It's not like it was when I got in, all the little indie films now have big name celebrities in them and you have to compete with that. [...] Someone's going to come up with a new paradigm, a new way to get it out there."

I'm sure I can think of more, but I'm still recovering both from the laughter and the sitting-on-a-folding-chair-for-9-hours thing. I definitely got my money's worth, I can say that, even counting the serious cash I blew at the autographed merchandise table beforehand. Now I just have a few new terms to explain to my 14-year-old son who came with me, and I can move on.

For most moviegoers the position of producer is a fuzzy one. What does a producer produce, anyway? How many does it take to build an executive producer? What about the co-producer? Is that the littlest producer, or the one that always rides shotgun?

The quick answer used to be that a director makes a movie happen, but a producer makes a movie possible. The producer initiates the project, hires and coordinates the key staff, raises the cash, arranges for distributors, sucks up to studios, bails the more interesting stars out of jail, that sort of thing.

Now there's an even quicker answer: the producer is the person who sends in a dollar. Welcome to "The 1 Second Film."

It started life as a student project to make the "biggest, shortest film" ever made. One second of screen time consisting of 24 frames showing an animation created by two shots each of 12 huge paintings, which were themselves created in a massive one-day effort by hundreds of students, faculty, and passers-by at the California Institute of the Arts. There will be a premiere, after which the paintings will be auctioned off to benefit the Global Fund for Women. Using as many people as possible to create a perfect moment, the project celebrates the process in which it is… you know what? I don't really care.

It's artistic and probably makes a statement about something, but two other things attracted me to this project. First, I'm always impressed when that many people spend that much time and energy on something that odd. Will it have a musical score? (Yes, actually.) Hopefully there will be some sign that it's about to start, so you don't blink and waste your ticket. No word yet on a DVD release, or whether or not there will be a three-second director's cut with deleted scenes, subtitles, and commentary.

The second and most important thing is that they're raising production costs by offering screen credits to everyone who donates. $1 makes you an associate producer. $10 or more gets you producer credit. And $100 puts you in the heady world of executive producing.

Think about it. One buck to become eligible for a listing in the Internet Movie Database, and that's way easier than actually producing anything. Plus you'll be working, so to speak, with lots of celebrities who have also taken the economy route to padding their resume after being confronted by the film's creators during parties and on the streets of Hollywood. Woody Harrelson put in a dollar. So did Steve Buscemi. Christina Ricci was good for $5.50. Charlie Kaufman, Pierce Brosnan, and Bill Pullman splurged and went for the $10 listing, just under Stephen Colbert ($11) and Spike Jonze ($12). Seth Green tossed in $41, while Andy Dick and Tom Green have both broken the $200 mark in a furious bidding war to get top billing over each other. Your involvement could put you on the same imdb.com page as these stars and many more, although it will be, admittedly, a really, really long page.

With over 5,100 producers so far, look for "The 1 Second Film" to be followed with an estimated 90 minutes of credits. They'll run alongside a documentary about the film's odd and star-studded creation, to help keep you from going blind. Don't miss my name!

My producer credit now enables me to hold my head up high in the industry. I've already begun building my entourage — currently my wife and dogs — and I've given serious thought to which ludicrous and expensive idiosyncrasy I can confess to during my inevitable E! True Hollywood Story (I'm thinking about becoming tragically addicted to medicated shoe inserts).

Now I can call up Christina and chat about our project, after our usual friendly banter about who the hell I am and how I got this number. I can swing by the hottest insider parties and flash my IMDb page printout at the bouncer. "Back off, buddy," I'll say. "I'm a producer!" I still won't get in, but it'll impress the other people that get turned away.

Best of all, I am now one degree away from Kevin Bacon ($10).

But don't worry, I won't be changed by my new-bought fame. I'll still be the same modest person I was before, albeit a much more important and beautiful one, and I'll never forget my humble, non-industry beginnings. I'll be sure to thank everyone when "The 1 Second Film" wins an Oscar and we all flood onto the stage — and steps, and hallways, and into the parking lot — to accept. I couldn't have done it without you. And this is only the first step in my new career.

What I really want to do is direct. How much is that?

But my very first thought was that someone will need to change his website, which as of this writing still presents the header graphic it's had for some time now, "I Ain't Dead Yet, Motherf#cker!" I'm kinda hoping they don't.