I think I've been going about this all wrong. Say you want to see a hot celebrity nekkid, like, oh, super lust-inducing Rihanna, and, yeah, we do, all you need to do is build yourself an airport in a major city, schedule a few convenient non-stop flights to major destinations around the world from your jetways, then come up with some gobbledygook rationale as to why your especially sextastic passengers must pass themselves through the X-ray body scanner that virtually removes all of their clothing right there on the screen for you. Certainly seems easier than my approach which is basically built around prayer and animal sacrifice (props to my pet hamster, Petey, who gave up his own life so that we could see Brooklyn Decker topless).
'Um, heavyset lady with the scary mole -- you may pass. Hot Barbadian diva, I'm afraid you're going to have to lift those arms and have some peeking photos snapped of you.'
Those sneaky sneaky TSA bastards -- you boys are effin' genius.