Judith Regan will sign anybody to write a book. The former National Enquirer "reporter" is responsible for coffee table classics penned by the likes of Paris Hilton and Jenna Jameson (and in both cases, the movie was much better than the book). Now, Regan has officially cornered the horny blond market, signing Amber Frey, momentary mistress to the king of bad breakups, Scott Peterson. Frey’s story is said to be "a story of courage in crisis that will inspire others who have been betrayed to fight back for truth and justice."
She fucked a guy. That’s it. She screwed a fertilizer salesman who turned out to be a murderer. Had she tossed Peterson’s salad knowing that he was a murderer, then we’d have a story. But she got nailed by a guy who peddles mixtures of dirt and crap, and on the first date. That warrants an STD, not a book.
I can’t blame Frey. Without girls like her, I’d would’ve remained a virgin throughout high school (alright, college). She couldn’t tell a fertilizer salesman no. How could she stand up to a manipulative sensationalist like Regan? Regan loves to peddle trash, but then again, these people love to read it. I personally think Regan’s own story about screwing the next Homeland Security czar over the ashes of the World Trade Center makes a much better book, but Regan prefers to stay out of the spotlight. If I was the douche bag that thought Paris Hilton was worthy of 300 pages on dating tips, so would I.
