There are a lot of things that make me laugh.

People falling over, Zoolander, cats, Carlton sitting at the bottom of the ladder.

You know, the usual stuff.

But there is one man who is guaranteed to get me and a heck of a lot of other people laughing every time.

Warwick Capper.

And what unites us is not so much laughing with him at what he considers his hilarious hijinks, but laughing at him.

He’s been a meter-maid, a stay-at-home-dad, a celebrity Big Brother contestant, a celebrity Big Brother scandal, a council worker and a male model in his bid to stay in the spotlight.

And now he has reached new lows.

The man who calls himself Australia’s answer to Paris Hilton has followed his idol into celluloid shame and produced his own blue movie.

And he’s not even pretending that it “mistakenly” ended up in the public arena.

Oh no – he put it there.

With his 25-year-old girlfriend a willing co-star, the 44-year-old “tastefully” created his porn masterpiece at his Gold Coast home and sold it to a Melbourne distributor for a six-figure sum.

Anyone who paid six figures to see little Wazza obviously missed his BB appearance where he gave housemates a free look – and from that reaction, peanuts may have been a more appropriate payment – but hey, each to their own.

And I suppose it didn’t hurt Wangers that his buyer is a self-confessed, mad-keen Swans fan.

But seriously?

Warwick Capper as a porn star?

I saw him in Melbourne a few months ago – trying to “blend into the crowd” by wearing knee-high ugh boots, tight jeans, enough bling to make J-Lo jealous, and a tiny handbag – oops, sorry, I mean girlfriend – hanging off his arm (they were wearing his and her’s ugh boots, which is kinda sweet on a four-year-old but disturbingly icky on a fully grown man).

And he was desperately trying to catch people’s eyes so he could do the “Yes, it’s me” routine.

Except nobody caught his eye.

In fact, most people were avoiding looking at him, until he passed, when they turned to their friends to point and laugh.

Because nobody cares about what Warwick Capper is doing, except the man himself.

They are selling One Night in Warwick (not it’s real title, but maybe he just hasn’t thought of it yet) overseas, because apparently America just can’t get enough of big dumb blondes revealing themselves in all their glory to anyone willing to pay.

Warwick Capper is sport’s ultimate joke. Any achievements he may have laid claim to in the past, in the sport which made him famous, have been overshadowed by his grasping attempts to stay in the spotlight.

And when it comes to Wazza, maybe he’s better off in the shade.