The standard of self-incriminating over-sharing necessary to make a splash in the New York media world has risen so much in this post-Julia Allison world. So what's an aspiring fameball to do? Literally whore herself out for a good story? Well. Former New York Press sex columnist and tit-obsessive Kelly Kreth recently went to a swingers club to remind us all that she looks good naked, enjoys girl-on-girl action, and is available for freelance work. Anything to get your name out there. Proof of Kreth's commitment to becoming a media celebrity after the jump.

Kelly Kreth has a brand-new body... and she wants us to know it! Last Ash Wednesday, the fired NY Press sex columnist, real estate PR bunny, an unapologetic attention-seeker had her second breast-reduction, she told us in an email. (She's also known for going on a disturbing date with dysfunctional serial womanizer Paul Janka.) Explains Kreth, "The first reduction 5 years ago took me from a nearly DD to a big C. Within a year I was a big D again." Damn, they grew back! "However, in the last year they were just so annoying and huge so I just got another reduction... Fingers crossed they stay small." Calculated PR move from an expert? We don't know; we suddenly feel kind of dizzy. And yeah, we've got a SFW photographic timeline.

Maybe Julia Allison should just stick to communicating via smoke signals, since everything the woman writes on anything more permanent is made immediately public. Of course, that might interfere with the dating columnist's constant Tumblr updates. Former New York Press sex columnist Kelly Kreth (the one who was fired for taste, not plagiarism) called Allison out today for lifting an imaginary game from one of Kreth's old Press columns for her blog. In the comments, Allison responded: "I've never heard of Kelly Kreth until this post. In fact, I've only read one issue of the NY Press, and that's when they called me an Asshole on the cover." Oh, Julia. You know perfectly well it's dangerous to tell a publicity whore that nobody knows who she is! Next thing we knew, an email found its way to our inbox, in which Allison tells Kreth that she "purposely doesn't read other dating columnists, I don't want to be influenced," and also warns the ex-Presser to "be VERY VERY careful with Gawker." Someone probs should have given Allison the same advice about Kreth too, we're thinking. After the jump, the sad little exchange.

There's always a chuckle to be had when one attention-whore snipes at another attention-whore for stealing her attention-whorey idea, however lame. Today we got an email from a very annoyed Kelly Kreth, the former New York Press sex columnist, who says that Julia Allison pinched something for her blog from one of her old Press columns! Color us shocked-Allison's interpretation of the "borrowing" concept is broad, well-documented, etc. After the jump, the brilliant idea Allison snaggled today from Kreth. First though, a followup request from Ms. Kreth.

"I have been putting off doing this Rate-A-Date because I genuinely liked Paul Janka. I felt bad for him in a way," writes Kelly Kreth, the ousted New York Press sex columnist, PR bunny, and seeker of any and all forms of attention. Paul Janka, Manhattan's slimiest bachelor and minor internet-celebrity, "seemed lost and confused and completely harmless... He is just a man with a compulsion that needs to be addressed... He graduated from Harvard and is pretty smart and intense, but it would seem that a few years ago he became aimless. He worries, too, that he isn't contributing to society." Not with a tract called How To Get Laid in NYC, he isn't. Her five-hour date with him is full of frankly disturbing scatological descriptions that cross the line into the clinically weird. It also reminds us where all the smart girls are on a Sunday night: not going on dates as a "media joke."

Anal annal-er and New York Press sex columnist Kelly Kreth was fired Friday after just three months by editor David Blum, who hasn't been satisfied by any of the four three sex columnists he's fired in the last year. Neither Rachel Kramer-Bussel nor Kreth's Press-predecessor Stephanie Sellars did it for the ex-Voice editor. The co-authors of his short-lived "Married Not Dead" sex column at the Voice (kicked to the curb a couple of days after Blum was replaced) didn't do it for anyone. "My feeling is, when you hire a columnist, you let them express themselves in their own way," Blum told us. "Ultimately you have to decide whether it works or not." Kreth was fired for "taste," which admittedly, came in short supply in her columns. In large supply? Gems like this: "I write about my tight starfish because I know, even while disgusted, people will be compelled to read. It doesn't matter if it is out of titillation or horror, want or need, we just want their eyes on the page and on us." Kelly, honey, we hate to break it to you, but the Press is no stranger to a tight asshole.

Kelly Kreth used to work in PR doing stuff for real estate or something. Now she writes about her rear end in myriad and upsetting ways for the New York Press. In her latest column in the Press, Kreth has written what seems like a Swiftian satire of currently internet-famous New York Casanova Paul Janka's rampant and blatant misogynism. But really maybe it's just a chance for her to talk about her butt in very graphic terms.

Just in time for Halloween, New York Press sex columnist Kelly Krethtells us which writers and "writers" she'd like to bone next, now that already notched loser- director-pervert Eric Schaeffer on her lipstick case. We read this so now you have to, too: "James Frey... I want to curl my tongue around yours like the southern drawl does the tango with yours. I want to be your drug. Snort me, inhale me, shove me up your nose, up your ass, swallow me, digest me; you will not have to drive to Harlem to try to score. I want to search your face for scars and lick them when I find them. I want you to bite me with those altered teeth as hard as you can. I want you to guzzle some of my blood and wear the rest like a coat. Big Jim, will you be my dime bag? I'd go down dirty alleys and go down on you in them." Also: "He's that guy, the one who will lie to get into your pants." Well, yes.

In response our assertion that she was still dating yoga-loving, woman-hating "I Can't Believe I'm Still Single" author Eric Schaeffer, Kelly Kreth writes: