This wasn't my first shot at seizing the power back, Marilyn-style. Way back in 1992, I spoofed Madonna's Sex book, standing naked in a freezing Jersey street with nothing but a wig and a cig to distract from my painfully tucked penis. I almost ended up in jail when two cops pulled up to chide me for public indecency, but photographer Catherine McGann showed them a copy of Sex and that calmed them right down. (Ah, the power of superstar gonads. Next time a policeman tries to Taser you for some heinous crime, just hold up Madonna's crotch.) We quickly finished the shot, and then I ran back into the car, pulled my nuts back out, and invoked Madge by declaring, "I am not ashamed," then quietly added: "But I should be!"

This shoot was indoors, at least, and as far away from law enforcers as possible. And though I'm even less buff now, I felt somehow more determined to flaunt it, sensing that the offer might not come up that many hundred more times. The slinky Lindsay said she did 250 crunches the night before her shoot. Well, I did 250 Nestlé Crunches. Lindsay watched Niagara in early preparation for her Marilyn awakening. Well, I was considering Viagra. Unfortunately, we couldn't get Bert Stern, a man so caring of his subjects that he even ran the shots Marilyn had crossed out on the contact sheets. But I believe there was an offer from another sensitive Stern (Howard K.), especially if he could shoot me dead—I mean photograph me dead. Instead, we went with Howard Huang and his crack team of stylists, hairdressers, and makeup artists, who prodded and poked me harder than the last time I was gang-banged on a pool table—and I loved it! The experience helped me appreciate how much arduous work goes into the art of looking effortlessly beautiful. When it came time to break for lunch, the makeup lady—who cutely called me "Lindsay" all day—said, "You'd better order something, Lindsay. You don't want to be like those Hollywood stars." Yes, I do! But I still sent out for a turkey sandwich with gravy, mashed potatoes, and a side of tomatoes.

As we wrapped, I felt not only gorgeous but strangely topical, since the press was buzzing about how Madonna's hitchhiking shot had been certified by a "Marilyn Monroe expert" to actually be a lost, extremely valuable image of Marilyn herself! Exciting news—until someone finally shattered the freak's reverie by chirping: "That's actually the famous photo of the Material Girl without material, moron." This whole delusional mess turns out to be very good news for me and my gal Lindsay. If the overabundance of exposed snatches out there has led to such a blurring in the public perception of vamps, maybe someone will think "Musto as Lohan as Marilyn" is yet another lost session by the immortal Monroe. As Ernest Borgnine as Eleanor Roosevelt as W.C. Fields as Stalin.

musto@villagevoice.com

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