Those born after 1975 probably won't remember New York's greatest and most tabloidiest gay, Andrew Crispo. He was a hoity-toity art dealer and sadomasochist who was—the week after he left prison for tax evasion!—the victim of a blown-up Hamptons home which happily provided him with a $5-million settlement. He would later go on to threaten to kidnap one of his own lawyer's children. Also, in the 80s, this guy who worked for him shot a kid that Crispo had met at the Hellfire Club. Now that guy is still in prison—while Crispo is laying pretty low—but the shooter has managed to have a baby—but his nutcase prison wife is divorcing him and trying to take his baby!

Bernard Legeros, the former Crispo employee, is eligible for parole in 2010, but got married to this chick while in prison and she wanted to "bond on the molecular level by having a baby" and so she had some conjugal visits and then immediately divorced him after giving birth? Also she says his brother shot her cat with an arrow! And she says that Legeros is also sleeping with the wife of the guy who, in 2001, bludgeoned Hamptons millionaire Ted Ammon to death.

These people are complete loons.

Crispo himself is not currently in prison (and beat the rap for ordering Legeros to shoot the kid back in the 80s). Plus he got some weird light sentence for the whole would-be lawyer-kid kidnapping thing.

And yet from time to time, we hear ugly stories about him, though they've decreased in frequency recently. (He is aging—he's somewhere near 60 at this point.) From what we hear, he cruises for guys online or on the phone sex lines; once a pal of ours showed up at his house and Crispo said "Do you know who I am? Are you scared?" Creepy. To which our friend said "I'm not scared of you but I'm sure not coming in anyway."

Other gays report weekend-long meth and crack-fueled sex parties of beyond-Caligulan degradation. In fact, a trip to Crispo's apartment is usually the number-one indicator that someone is on his way to rehab. Those with stories are encouraged to email them in; confidentiality assured.

'80S FIEND IN TUG OF LOVE [NY Post]