Here’s a Pic of Ashley Alexandra Dupre (Ashley Youmans/Kristen) from her high school yearbook, courtesy of Rankun.

Gawker has a gallery set up, too, with a few extra photos you might not have seen. This one is interesting:

It’s her mom, brother, and I’m guessing, grandfather.

The Wall Street Journal talks about “The Entrapment of Eliot” :

There is no hard evidence that Eliot Spitzer was targeted for investigation, but the story of how he was caught does not ring entirely true to many experienced former prosecutors and current criminal lawyers.

…the movement of the amounts of cash required to pay prostitutes, even high-priced prostitutes over a long period of time, does not commonly generate a full-scale investigation.

We are talking about thousands, not millions, of dollars. We are also talking about a man who is a multimillionaire with numerous investments and purchases. The idea that federal investigators would focus on a few transactions to corporations — that were not themselves under investigation — raises as many questions as answers.

Once federal authorities concluded that the “suspicious financial transactions” attributed to Mr. Spitzer did not fit into any of the paradigms for which the statutes were enacted, they should have closed the investigation…but the authorities expanded it, because they had caught a big fish in the wide net they had cast. In this case, they wiretapped 5,000 phone conversations, intercepted 6,000 emails, used surveillance and undercover tactics that are more appropriate for trapping terrorists than entrapping johns.

In this case, if the serendipitous bank audit really led federal agents to Mr. Spitzer, and Mr. Spitzer led them to the Emperor’s Club, and federal prosecutors really wanted to get the Club, they could easily have sent an undercover cop to pose as a john, instead of tapping phones and reading emails — tactics designed to catch and embarrass Mr. Spitzer with his own recorded words, which could be, and were, leaked to the media. As this newspaper has reported: “It isn’t clear why the FBI sought the wiretap warrant. Federal prostitution probes are exceedingly rare, lawyers say, except in cases involving organized-crime leaders or child abuse. Federal wiretaps are seldom used to make these cases . . .”

Spitzer’s Alleged Singing Hooker No Andrea True … But She Could Have a Hit:

She’s not exactly Andrea True, and “What We Want” is no “More More More,” but Ashley Dupre’s MySpace recording could turn out to be a hit. (Andrea True, of course, was the purported ’70s porn star who had a smash disco dance hit with “More More More,” a record that contained the refrain, “How do you like it; how do you like it?”)

Dupre’s lone MySpace entry, “What We Want,” is not as catchy, but it does have the thumpy repetitive set-up that marks most dance hits of this era. Over at amiestreet.com, you can download “What We Want” and another Dupre track, “Move Ya Body,” the latter for a mere 65 cents. That record actually has a better hook, and it’s less expensive. So far, the two tracks on that site have racked up 90,000 listens, according to the on-site counter.

Lew Rockwell comments on the irony and hypocrisy surrounding Eliot Spitzer here and here:

… he has been prosecuting sex-trade rings for years. He called prostitution “modern-day slavery.” His law prosecuting men who hire prostitutes came into effect in November 1, 2006. And yet he is said to have shelled out as much as $80,000 for prostitution services…

Finally, regarding Silda, a girl-in-short-shorts says:

Oh how the feminist-identified ladies and metrosexual chuckleheads are so appalled that Elliot’s wife is pulling a Tammy Wynette.

… The Southern Girl came north to conquer the world, and was briefly distracted when the romance bug bit. In law school she married Peter Stamos, who now operates the three billion dollar private investment fund SterlingStamos, and divorced him twenty-nine days later…. it demonstrates the girl is quite capable of summarily dumping a dude when its called for.

I think we can rest assured she has some ideas on what the appropriate penalty is for an upright, uptight, cumwrong blockhead husband.

Finally, here’s Jim Cramer on the verge of crying like a little bitch over the whole thing:

Wow, Cramer - I had no idea. NO IDEA!