Would a woman ever pay to have sex with a man at a brothel? If you believe Heidi Fleiss, the clearly unstable yet strangely charming former “Hollywood madam” (she served 21 months in federal prison for tax evasion related to her dial-a-hooker business), the answer is yes.

Hence the ultra-modern, oyster-shaped complex she has designed to be constructed just outside a town in the Nevada desert with the very unsexy name of Pahrump. Fleiss is convinced that the frustrated housewives of America want nothing more than to drive to one of the most godforsaken places on the planet to pay hundreds of dollars to be groped by an off-duty and probably homosexual Chippendale.

But there are a few problems: Fleiss's former business partner, Joe Richards, is awaiting trial after pleading not guilty to charges of attempting to bribe a public official; she doesn't have a brothel owner's licence yet; and the locals seem mostly to hate her. Oh, and did I mention that Fleiss is now facing felony drug charges? All of which is detailed in a sadly compelling new HBO documentary, Heidi Fleiss: The Would-Be Madam of Crystal (Crystal being the name of the proposed brothel location, as well as a snide reference to crystal meth, to which Fleiss appears hopelessly addicted).

As Fleiss mentally and physically disintegrates throughout the film, you get the feeling The Stud Farm might have been one of the greatest PR con-jobs of all time. But for all the suggestions that Fleiss was planning to open the place up to gays, thus guaranteeing profitability, I like to think she was genuinely interested in the brothel as a social experiment. For that reason alone I hope she cleans up and gets her licence.

Muscle for rent

Speaking of male companionship, you might have noticed the three unsmiling, earpiece-wearing heavyweights glaring over my right shoulder as I write. Relax - they're my bodyguards. Everyone has them now, according to W magazine. Indeed, fashion pundits have declared the bodyguard to be the new handbag, with celebrities using them to guarantee entry to the latest hot-spots while attracting the lenses of the paparazzi. But nightclub owners are not amused: in the old days, the average celebrity entourage typically included only a couple of harried assistants, who could be left outside with their BlackBerrys.

No longer. Even D-listers are turning up now with a platoon's worth of Mossad veterans. Contigencies have to be made. Refreshments have to be provided. Worse, the rented muscle seem more interested in their V&Ts than thwarting kidnapping plots. The inevitable backlash is already beginning: doormen are being instructed to calculate a guest's importance using an inverse bodyguard ratio. As one nightclub owner says: “Mick Jagger has maybe one guy, and he stands 15 feet away.” Alas, I suspect that says more about Jagger's personality that it does about his lack of ego.

A threat to cartopia

Still, I don't blame people for clinging to whatever ostentations they can still get away with, or afford. Things are changing fast in this city. Take Chrysler's decision over the weekend to end its programme of “leasing” vehicles to customers. That might not mean much to the average Briton, but here in the cartopia of Los Angeles, it's armageddon.

When you lease a car you typically pay only the difference between its price and its predicted value in three years' time, plus sales tax and interest. In real terms that means you can drive pretty much any top-of-the-line guzzler you want for a few hundred quid a month - a fraction of the cost of ownership in Europe. But the low monthly payments offered by leases depend on two things: predictable depreciation and cheap interest rates, both of which have been made impossible by runaway oil prices (used SUV values have fallen by a third this year) and the reluctance of crippled banks to lend anyone money. As a result, I doubt Chrysler will be the last car manufacturer to put an end to leases. The era of LA pool boys driving Lamborghinis could soon be over.

Holy smoke, Dick

So I finally saw the new Batman movie, the plot of which concerns a shadowy front organisation (Wayne Enterprises) that flouts civil liberties, uses violent coercion, and even engages in an illegal wiretapping programme to protect the people of Gotham City from a media-savvy fugitive terrorist. All of which enrages the public who are too unsophisticated to realise that a dark force must be unleashed for their protection.

Remind you of anything? The US Department of Homeland Security, perhaps? I'm not the only one to have noticed the similarity. Over the weekend, the New York Post went so far as to out the “real” Batman. Step forward, Dick Cheney.

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