Prenup Meets Diva Rider

Thanks to The Smoking Gun we all know about the obnoxious demands of so-called stars* when it comes to their concert riders and stays at fancy hotels. Bruce Springsteen, for example, demands "a whole roasted chicken to be delivered, mid-concert, to his dressing room."

Apparently -- as this makes clear -- some not-so-famous folks have taken to folding riders into their prenups. Nagging fines? Breakfast and massage demands? Naturally hilarity (and divorce) ensues.

(*If you want to nail me down to speak before your group then it'll take five figures, a carton of American Spirit cigs, a case of Goose Island Honker's Ale, a case of Maker's Mark liter bottles, a 400-thread-count off-white surrender flag, a Thighmaster, a 103-inch plasma TV endlessly looping that scene in Super Size Me where Morgan Spurlock pukes, and a de-clawed gerbil dressed in a miniature, custom-yellow raincoat. Also, like Springsteen I too want a chicken. But I want to see it alive before I speak and I want it fully stuffed and cooked by the time I finish.)