Girls gone stupid

Joe Francis built the Girls Gone Wild franchise to around a $40 million a year empire, and is hoping to go mainstream. Claire Hoffman, a reporter for the L.A. Times follows him around and (surprise surprise) finds out he isn't always such a nice guy.

In reality, he's simply capitalizing on the stupidity and vanity of kids:

In a culture where cheap and portable video technology lets everyone play at stardom, and where America's voyeuristic appetite for reality television seems insatiable, teenagers, like the ones in this club, see cameras as validation. "Most guys want to have sex with me and maybe I could meet one new guy, but if I get filmed everyone could see me," Bultema says. "If you do this, you might get noticed by somebody—to be an actress or a model."

I ask her why she wants to get noticed. "You want people to say, 'Hey, I saw you.' Everybody wants to be famous in some way. Getting famous will get me anything I want. If I walk into somebody's house and said, 'Give me this,' I could have it."

If your goal in life is to be the next Paris Hilton, it's never been easier.