Normally, I wouldn't do a fawning fangirl post without putting a little background into it, along with some sarcastic commentary, but this post is simply to encourage everyone to bow down and worship Trent Reznor and Nine Inch Nails because he is a tortured genius and puts on the fucking best concert ever, featuring all the biggies and more: screaming and yelling, elaborate lighting and lightboards, destruction of equipment, and really loud, angsty ROCK. I think I'm in love.


This one's for the fellas!

We here at Stupid & Contagious (and by "we" I mean "me") have made a serious commitment to the readers (and by "readers" I mean Lola, Lord Grimsmear and possibly my cousin) to provide top-quality bloggertainment (I just made that up!) and the most viciously snarky commentary that I can muster on a variety of topics. So while I really try to do my best, I feel I've been letting down the fellas around here. I mean, all those times that I've shamelessly slobbered on and on about hot guys, provided super-sexxxy pix of sundry cute boys, written openly about my creepy obsession with my fake boyfriend Eric Avery and, of course, babbled ad nauseum on my letcherous, unquenchable thirst for Ville Valo...while I find it all endlessly fascinating, this shit is probably of no interest to you and I realize I have been neglecting you. And for that, I apologize.

So to make up for it, I decided to dedicate a post to exactly the opposite: really ugly guys! Recently, the Boston Phoenix alt. weekly did a disturbing but intriguing roundup of the 100 Unsexiest Men in the Entertainment World. I think we can all agree that there is nothing worse than an unattractive person—am I right, or am I right? And this inspired list includes some truly vomitous creatures. Here's the top 10, just for you, guys! And I promise: no more mentions of Ville Valo and how smoking hot he is.


1. Gilbert Gottfried. Aw, The Phoenix is so mean! He's fucking annoying and all, but is he really worse than, say, Michael Jackson? To make matters more confusing, they go on to add this interesting little tidbit: "Rumor has it that Gilbert is the heir apparent to Uncle Milty when it comes to what he's packing." No shit...really? I don't know what to do with this kind of information. The initial reaction is kinda icky, followed closely by morbid fascination. Anyway, maybe I should just keep my mouth shut—I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea or anything.

2. Randy Johnson. I don't even know who this guy is, but I looked him up online and, thanks to his picture, I'm now unable to ever have children. He makes Federline look citified.

3. Roger Ebert. Ew, yeah, good choice

4. Dr. Phil. OK, but have you seen his son? He's totally hot! How did that happen? Oh, wait, sorry. No more horndog comments; I promise.

5. Alan Colmes. Yeah, way to represent the libs with this guy. I totally agree, but would also submit that Sean Hannity is pretty fucking grody, too. Maybe Fox News should take advantage of that marketing opportunity: tune in for the unsexiest hour of talk TV! Or don't.

6. Chad Kroeger. "It's not just the massive head, weird face, and bad hair. It's also the fact that he's in Nickelback, the worst band since the dawn of music." The Phoenix is awesome for this quote alone.

7. Mike Mills. Yeesh. Yep, gotta agree with this one, too.

8. Osama Bin Laden. Sure, why not?

9. Jay Leno. Unless of course you have a sick, twisted fantasy of getting busy with that big Mack the Knife moon head from those old McDonald's commercials. Remember that?

10. Don Imus. God, what is up with that guy's hair? It's like a cotton candy machine exploded. And his face looks like a leather handbag that was smashed by a car tire on a gravel road.

Other foul land beasts mentioned elsewhere include:
• Raffi, the guy behind such quintessential children's recordings as "Bananaphone", "Let's Play" and "Raffi in Concert with the Rise and Shine Band." I never heard any of this stuff when I was a kid, but I would bet that pretty much every violent criminial in the country has.

• Axl. No comment.

• Scott Stapp—YES! Take that, you prick! How does it feel to be judged publicly as unsexier than Lyle Lovett, John Popper and Art Garfunkel? Hell, even Joey Buttafuoco scored higher than you! HAHAHAHA!! Sucks to be you, you big douche!

• Tom, that guy on Myspace who is everyone's friend. This one just made me laugh, because who the fuck IS that guy? Does he own Myspace or something? That alone would make him unsexy. But he also insists on keeping up that ridiculous picture of himself sitting at a desk in front of what looks like a classroom wipe board, sporting a filthy white tee and outdated earlength sideburns. He should have just signed up under the pseudonym "Mr. Ewan MacGregor", slapped up a still from "Velvet Goldmine" and sit back to watch the nudie pics fill up his inbox at record speed. I mean, if he's the head honcho of Myspace he could probably get away with that, at least for a couple of days...

• Lemmy Kilmister, who I've always said is tied with Mick Mars as the most unattractive guy in rock. Lemmy is living proof that it doesn't matter how rich, famous or cool of a rock star you are—there is such a thing as a groupie that will stoop too low.

Despite being pretty spot-on, I do take issue with a few of the entries, including:
• Mike D. of the Beastie Boys. He's number 13 out of 100! I mean, come on. He went to the prom and wore a fly blue rental! He can drink a quart of monkey and still stand still! He travels 'round the globe keeping girlies dizzy! Give the little prep a break.

• Gerard Way from My Chemical Romance. They completely blow, but I would have chosen Danii Filth from Cradle of Filth over this guy. Plus, there aren't any good stories about him on Groupie Central, but there were a whole bunch of doozies about Danii (including that he likes to have chicks sit n' spin...ON HIS FACE!!)

• Robert Patrick. OK, take it from me, guys, they are completely off-base on this one.

• Brad Pitt. He was listed as number 100 (just behind Federline) for the rumors over his personal hygiene issues. Did you even know there were rumors about his personal hygiene issues? I always thought he looked like a well-scrubbed metro. Gross. I wonder how Angelina puts up with it. You know there probably aren't many opportunities to take a shower when you're traipsing around Djibouti with the Rainbow Coalition in 100-plus degree heat. Anyway, no matter what he smells like, he still doesn't do anything for me. But then again, I still probably wouldn't kick him out of bed—my god, I'm so confused! All I can conclude is that Brad is simply walking that fine line between fuckable and anaphrodisiac. (Did you like that? I just found that word in the dictionary!)

So, anyway, for what it's worth, there you go. Just to let male Stupid & Contagious readers know I care. By the way, have you guys ever seen this dude Grady Sizemore who plays for the Cleveland Indians? What do you know about him? Because I'd like to hit a home run and round those bases, if you know what I mean! Heh, heh...and I think you do! (I guess this means I'm back to my regularly scheduled "programming." Shit, that didn't last long.)


The answer to all your Corey prayers!

You may recall several months ago that I made the highly embarrassing confession that I used to have a big huge crush on Corey Haim. OK, well, hold on to your seat because I'm ready to drop another bomb on you: at the exact same time...I also had a big huge crush on Corey Feldman. Don't laugh! You must note that this was when I was, like, 12 years old and "The Lost Boys" had just come out. EVERYONE loved the Coreys—even boys sort of liked them, I think. This was before Feldman started going through that weird phase where he kept acting like Michael Jackson and divorced his parents and went through rehab about 58 times, and before Haim got all fat and bloated and started selling his body parts on Ebay and giving coked-up, slurry interviews on the E! channel. I've moved on since then and my tastes have matured. Now I have a big huge crush on Ville Valo. But that's totally different!

Anyway, as you may know, Feldman went on to star in the first installment of "The Surreal Life" where he roomed with Vince Neil, married his girlfriend Suzie on-air and hotly contested Danny Bonaducce as the whiniest former child star-turned cokehead-turned reality TV whore. Haim, on the other hand, ended up living in a tiny apartment with his mom where he takes about 800 Percs and Vikes a day and entertains himself by "making art" and "playing music" (translation: playing with Colorforms and plinking out "Chopsticks" on a Casio keyboard). It really is a sad state of affairs. And you really do have to feel kind of bad for the guy, because you know how us peons just eat it up when former child stars go all ape shit. I mean, I totally watch Corey's "E! True Hollywood Story" every single time it's on, just to see this part where he's giving an interview while he's all drugged up. And I feel all cheated because I totally believed everything Bop and Tiger Beat and Superteen said about him when I was a kid—those dirty liars! I'll bet his favorite color wasn't even really blue.

So I figured from here on out we'd see Feldman occasionally cropping up on "Child Star Confidential" and being a talking head on drug specials or on CNN whenever Jacko gets arrested again. And Haim, with his new killer whale-like appearance, would also show up on CNN, but in a report featuring a grainy mini-mart security cam of him snatching the give-a-penny-take-a-penny plate and making a break for it, followed by a sad 15-minute whatever-happened-to montage about his gratuitous fall from grace.

In this case, I'm sure you'll be totally surprised that I figured wrong. Check it:

"Fans of late 1980s/early 1990s cinema classics 'License to Drive,' 'Dream a Little Dream,' and unforgettable the-hot-one-from-Charles-in-Charge-getting-naked masterwork 'Blown Away' will suffer an aneurysm of delight from today's news that the producers of non-exploitative reality fare like 'Wife Swap' have reunited former teen heartthrobs Corey Feldman and Corey Haim for a 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'-style series. Reports Variety: 'The Coreys' picks up with Feldman living the comfortable suburban life with his wife Suzie and son, until circumstances bring his old pal Haim back into the picture. Episodes would follow Haim—single and the total opposite of Feldman—as he shakes life up for the Feldmans. RDF USA exec VP of current/development Greg Goldman said because Feldman and Haim have been friends on and off screen for several years, the chemistry between the two 'just pops off the screen.'"

OK, I realize this little report is dripping with sarcasm, but my god, I hope this is real. Forget "Dog the Bounty Hunter" and "Supergroup"—this is going to be the best show that ever was. Imagine the hilarity when Feldman and wife Suzie are in the middle of a domestic squabble over how Corey never changes diapers when Haim slinks around creepily on the front porch, and pounds on the door in an attempt to get Feldman to go out and party, like the old days. Suzie will cross her arms, tap her foot and give Feldman "the look", to which Feldman will shrug innocently and announce, "Whaaaat? I'll be back by 10!" That's when the real adventure begins!

The two Coreys race out the door, immediatly score and wake up two weeks later underneath a dumpster behind a dilapitated truckstop in Reno, with their kidneys neatly removed and their wallets, keys and cell phones conveniently missing. Even more hilarity ensues when the two former teen idols try to hitchhike back to LA and end up getting rides with a cavalcade of characters, including a moonie-like religious cult in a conversion van, a homophobic truck driver who thinks the two are boyfriends, and a singing band of '60s teens who just want to get to California and surf all day. The series ends when they finally get back to Feldman's to find out his kid is about 25 and Suzie has long since pronounced him legally dead, had plastic surgery beyond recognition and is now in a dysfunctional relationship with Scott Baio. All this without kidneys!!

Of course, the last episode leaves it open for the two Coreys to spin off again into a show where they try to revive their acting careers, but that never happens because Haim becomes a morbidly obese recluse who is trapped inside his bedroom for years until the fire department shows up to break the walls down to get him out and he ends up going on the Tyra Banks Show to tell "his story." And Feldman gets involved in Scientology and, well, you know what happens then...

This is so awesome, I can't even believe it. I imagine it being sort of like "Licence To Drive", only with the Coreys as the drunk chick. And also sort of like that National Lampoon movie they were in that sometimes comes on Cinemax at 3:45 a.m., where they are a couple of pothead losers at some kind of resort and have to take on some kind of big responsibility that they are totally not qualified to handle. Please tell me that's a real movie and I didn't just make that up.


Modern master or serial slasher?

So don't ask me how I came up with this (too much "American Justice" is my guess), but somehow my brain that is clogged with molten hops and bong resin has dreamed up a super-fun art game! Introducing: 20th CENTURY GREAT or SERIAL KILLER?!?! *rim shot!* The rules are simple: match the following works to the artist—is it a renowned modern-era master or is it a jailed psycho with a thirst for human blood? You decide! Let's see how you do....don't scroll down for the answers until you've given it a shot.









A.) Angelo Buono, one half of the "Hillside Strangler" murder team responsible for five deaths in 1977 Los Angeles
B.) Elmer Wayne Henley, teen accomplice of Dean Corill, who killed 27 boys in Texas in the early '70s
C.) Damien Hirst, the second-highest paid living artist in the world today, next to Jasper Johns
D.) Henry Lee Lucas, perhaps the most prolific serial murder in the United States (he's claimed more than 300 victims)
E.) Charles Manson, infamous cult leader and orchestrator of the brutal murders of nine
F.) Grandma Moses, American folk artist and national treasure who produced paintings up to and beyond her 100th birthday
G.) Georgia O'Keeffe, influential painter widely regarded as one of the greatest artists of the 20th century
H.) Mark Rothko, Depression-era impressionist credited with helping to usher in the Pop Art phenomenon of the 1960s

For the record, I really don't have a point here. I just thought it would be funny. If I was trying to make a point I would have linked to Damien Hirst's website and made some dramatic statements about how at least the serial killers didn't slay something in order to make the art. I hate you, Damien Hirst, and the animals do, too. Maybe we should sic the Animal Militia on him so they can hopefully make his life a living hell. You're a hack, Hirst, do you hear me? A FUCKING HACK!!!

So I guess there is a point to all this after all: I realized how much of a blind hatred I have for Damien Hirst and his ilk. And that I am officially now going to hell for including Grandma Moses in all of this madness. She's just a sweet little old lady who does not deserve to be listed next to the likes of Damien Hirst.

How did you do anyway? Let's find out!

(1.) A—Angelo Buono (2.) G—Georgia O'Keeffe (3.) B—Elmer Wayne Henley (4.) H—Mark Rothko (5.) E—Charles Manson (6.) D—Henry Lee Lucas (7.) F—Grandma Moses (8.) C—Damien Hirst (the fucker)


I'm such a slacker

Did you miss me? Oh, get outta here, you did not!

Yes, I've been slacking and, the truth is, I've been a little uninspired lately, plus I'm waaaaay behind on bringing you the latest hard-hitting "Supergroup" reports that will someday make me famous. This weekend has raised too many questions for me to concentrate on just one area, so I'm going to have to postpone any up-to-the-minute Sebastian Bach quotes to address other, more pressing, queries and observations.

And I'm totally NOT going to comment on the "revealing" Britney interview that aired the other night. It's too easy, and frankly, I'm getting sick of writing about her. For now.

Far more important is that VH1 once again rocks the weekend with a celebration of all things '80s, which included an airing of "The Breakfast Club." Of note:
• That joke that Bender tells as he's crawling through the vent...what was the frigging punchline?? Well, I just found out—there isn't one! So anticlimactic.
• The whole Ally Sheedy-Emilio Esteves post-makeover hookup was always a little suspect to me. The wrestling jock fell in love with the sad little goth girl because she pulled her hair back and put on a little shadow? Yeah, right.
• The famous "Eat my shorts" line was redubbed "Eat my socks." And thank god. Eating socks is so much grosser than eating shorts, and it's way more offensive. Bender always could stick it to the man.
• It's still a pretty good teen movie, but it's no "Whatever It Takes", I can tell you that.

E! also chalked up a winner with a "Child Star Confidential" marathon. Ah, eat your dreams, you precocious little scamps. Because there's nothing the cruel, cruel world likes more than the taste of really sweet dreams.
• Danielle Harris, who played the pesky little brat dressed as a clown in "Halloween 4", reveals that she was stalked by an obsessed fan who sent her perverted letters and thought they were getting married. She's then interviewed while participating in some kind of cardio-strip class where she's humping the floor and gyrating around on a stripper pole. What a tease!
• Who knew the kid from "Child's Play" would grow up to be so hunky? And that was such an awesome movie, wasn't it? Evil criminal transfers his soul into a creepy My Buddy-like doll and the doll goes on to kill, kill, kill! Whoever came up with that idea deserves a gold star.
• Natasha Lyonne is such a major crackhead. She had a collapsed lung, a heart infection and Hep C! Holy shit. These shows are so informative.
• Somebody named "T.J. Fantini", who was on the Mickey Mouse Club with Justin Timberlake, Christina Aguilera and that person whose name I will not mention, thinks he's missing some kind of pop star boat because of his "connections" and is convinced that the world is pining for more ex-Mousketeer-turned-singers. I don't know who this guy is, but his constant name dropping, overly confident posturing and "look out, world, I'm back!" absurdity made me want to personally start a crusade to prevent him from ever appearing in public again. Did anyone really watch that revival of the Mickey Mouse Club? I think it was only on for two years, and yet you hear people talking about it as if it was some kind of historical Saturday Night Live-ish launchpad for young talent. Whatever. I simply don't care for it.

Anyway, who cares about all this? That actually seems to be a running theme throughout this entire blog, doesn't it? Oh, well. Rock n' roll. I'll still be getting you those "Supergroup" updates ASAP.


I don't feel like blogging, but alien hand syndrome is making me

So I think I'm possessed or something. Help! It's freaking me out. My right hand keeps manically typing while my left hand chops at it with a meat cleaver. Like in "Dr. Strangelove"! Only not hilarious.

I guess it could be worse: at least I don't have jumping frenchman disorder, which causes people to freak the fuck out at the slightest surprise noise or movement. Or capgras syndrome, where you believe a close friend or relative is actually an imposter doppelganger attempting to pull the wool over the eyes of the world. Or acuphagia, which causes people to compulsively eat sharp objects.

Yeah, alien hand isn't too bad compared to those problems. However, I disturbingly seem to be developing new issues, as the following news items have caused strange afflictions to manifest in me throughout the last couple of weeks.

Celebrity obsession syndrome
So my fake boyfriend Eric Avery is now a member of Smashing Pumpkins. Please go see them and spend all your money on them, even if you don't like them, so Eric can get sufficient finances to fund his own projects and allow me to keep up my stalking habit. This police injunction stuff has been getting kind of expensive, not to mention time-consuming, but I think he secretly kind of likes it.

It seems that the National Day of Slayer was a rousing success last Tuesday, especially in the Big Apple. Some surly, sullen teens defaced a Catholic seminary, prompting the fuzz to comment, "It's important that a strong message be sent out that this is wrong. It is really an assault on Christianity. I think it's a bias crime, I do. It wasn't done on a mall." Whoooo! Mission accomplished, Slayer Task Force! Satan himself also issued a statement, intoning, "I'm very pleased that these scumfucks vandalized religious imagry in the name of the greatest thrash metal band of all time. Take it from me, Satan himself: Slayer rulez! Be sure to race out and buy our new album Christ Illusions, due in stores in August. I mean, THEIR new album. This message is not actually being issued by Slayer. It's coming directly from me, Satan, the prince of darkness!" Besides vandalism, other suggestions for celebration included: "Stage a 'Slay-out.' Don't go to work. Listen to Slayer." and "Have a huge block party that clogs up a street in your neighborhood. Blast Slayer albums all evening. Get police cruisers and helicopters on the scene. Finish with a full-scale riot." How about this: my office actually had an on-site Slay-out. It was awesome—a violent mosh pit developed and a couple of the supervisors got tasered. We thought it went pretty well, but later found out that Slayer actually thought it was kind of uncool. Man, we were really bummed.

Narcissistic personality disorder
Last, and certainly least, Miss Britney sat down with Matt Lauer to discuss her fascinating life and revealed that she thinks she is "a good mom", that her marriage to the Great White Dope is "awesome" and that driving with a baby on your lap isn't a big deal 'cause her Daddy did it all the time with her when she was little, and she turned out OK. Even after that time when Daddy had to suddenly slam on the breaks and Bitty bonked her little head on the hard plastic steering wheel, and she just got knocked a little silly...it's not like the bruise was that big or anything. Pleasingly, the screenshots indicate that Brit is getting really chubby again and that she still doesn't know how to dress herself properly. And Matt has this anguished look stamped on his face that says, "Please, lord, take me now." I know how you feel, buddy. I know all too well.

Don't worry, I'm checking myself into a doctor's care right away. Since pretty much all of this falls under the category of "self-harm", I'd say I'm getting to a pretty dire stage.


Frost, cummings, Dickinson...Spears

I'm a day late and a dollar short with some of this Britney shit, but who cares when rumors are swirling that she has filed divorce papers against Federline. It's official: I no longer believe in love.

Seriously, I kind of hope this isn't true because I don't think I can handle a "Britney Is Free!" comeback, punctuated with "empowering" pop hits about how she's strong and she don't need no man and—look, I'm still sexy, too!—proves it by humping a car/motorcycle/bed/albino snake/toilet bowl/another skeevy backup dancer. Unfortunately, she seems to have already started repeating "Be strong, Britney" over and over to her reflection in the bathroom mirror, because a couple of weeks ago a mysterious poem cryptically entitled "Remembrance of Who I Am" appeared in the "Love B: Stream of Consciousness" segment on her official site. I know, the thought of Britney's sixth-grade "stream of consciousness" blatherings makes me want to jam a railroad spike through my head, too, and believe me, she doesn't disappoint—here is the whole garbled, angsty mess for you to mock:

No more chains
That you gave me. [sic]

Enough of pain
Now I'm craving
Something sweet, so delight [sic]
How do you stand sleeping at night?

Silly patterns that we follow
You pull me in
I'm being swallowed.
By the ones you think you love
They pull you down
You can't see up above.

Manipulation is the key
They screw it in
Because you're naive.

You come to me now
Why do you bother?
Remember the Bible
The sins of the Father.
What you do
You pass down.
No wonder why [sic]
I lost my crown.

You don't see me now
You ask yourself why
My crown is back
And it's way too high
For you to be in my presence
Especially my son
You should bow down
I've only just begun.

The guilt you fed me
Made me weak.
The voodoo you did
I couldn't speak.

You're awakening
The phone is ringing.
Resurrection of my soul
The fear I'm bringing

What will you say
And what will you do?
She's not the same person that you're used to.

You trick me one [sic], twice, now it's three.
Look who's smiling now
Damn, it's good to be me!

[Note: the poem is followed by the proclamation "This is for everyone who thinks they know me..." and a picture of Brit and some other used-up-looking skanks flipping off the camera.]

Excuse me for a moment while I gather up the splattered pieces of my completely blown mind. I'd say it's pretty safe to assume that this is a limp girly slap at K-Fed for clipping her little wings with his slick skillz of trickery. Sorry, Britty, you may get a C- for effort (it's lame, but you earn points for managing to crank something out of your miniature brain), but you get a big, fat F for execution. You are the one who was manipulated and the victim of some sort of voodoo magic, but he is the one who is naive? That doesn't make any sense. But maybe I'm confused because you change tenses sometimes two or three times in the same line. Certainly, YOU aren't the one who was naive. I seem to remember you smugly flaunting your man-stealer relationship with Vanilla Lice to the world with a shitty TV show then funding his stone-cold rhyming, constant media whoring, and non-stop reproduction. If I'm this confused, imagine how your poor, misguided little fans feel!

And your crown is back? When did this happen? In the last pics I saw of you, you were cavorting around with curlers in your hair and the baby slumped (and possibly stoned) in the backseat of your death trap convertible. Oh, and then this video made the rounds showing you clomping around in NYC in heels and long pants with an unidentified drink in one hand and Sean Preston in the other and, big surprise, you almost drop the little guy and then mumble that you wish you had a gun. For what? To shoot the sidewalk for making you almost drop your baby again? At least you didn't drop your drink! Nope, sorry, no crown in sight. By the way—nice bra, Brandine.

So Brit is trying to tell us all something with her creative mastery of adjectives and verbs, but who knows what this is about? You, me, she, we...she sounds like a raving lunatic. What does it all mean? I don't fucking know and I don't fucking care. All I know is that these people must be stopped.

Weirdly enough, I'm suddenly inspired to write a poem of my own.

There once was a girl from Kentwood
Who yammered about being misunderstood
She's pouting and rambling
While her husband's off gambling
And both left the baby on the car hood

Hey, here's another one:

Roses are red, daisies are yellow
Spark up a spliff...Kevvie wants to get mellow

And here's another one; wow, I'm practically vomiting creativity today!

shut the
fuck up
with your absurd
you stupid dum-dum
please fall
down into an
abandoned well in your
backyard so we
never have to
hear from

I've got to get over this intense loathing, but she keeps doing stupid things that interfere with my life. Ugh.


06-06-06: Watch out for Old Scratch!

So what are you hellions up to today? Whatever it is, better keep one eye over your shoulder because only Satan himself knows what might happen. Perhaps the world will blow up or mass chaos will ensue. Or Britney and Federline will release a surprise duet remake of Cocker/Warnes' "Up Where We Belong." This nut claims to have solved some kind of DaVinci-like code that says the world is ending and the devil's taking over, which might be a little more convincing if his name wasn't "Harry Radio Book".

Whatevs. At the very least, we have the release of the horrible-looking remake of "The Omen", which debuts today. Don't go see it; I saw the preview and it looks really bad. They got some ugly overacting brat with a bowl haircut to play Damien. There's no way this unattractive moppet can deliver as creepy a performance as little Harvey Stephens in the original 30 years ago. Ever wonder what happened to that kid? According to IMDb he is now a "futures trader on the London stock market" and a "property developer in Kent"—well, which is it, IMDb? He also has a cameo as a reporter in the new version of the movie. Who knew Damien would go on to be such a Renaissance man? I guess when you are the antichrist you can do whatever the fuck you want.

Anyway, back on topic. Your official soundtrack for the day is Deicide's new EP "The Stench of Redemption", which also darkens our doorstep today. I stand behind my theory that this record was actually completed 2 years ago, but lead singer and sporter of the super-cool inverted-cross forehead burn scar Glen Benton forced the rest of the band to sit on it so they could release it on 6-6-6. By the way, deicide.com, their "official" website is their MySpace page! Whoo, look out! These guys are hardcore and don't you forget it. You certainly wouldn't know it from the fucking goofy face Glen Benton is making in the front- page picture. If he wants to scare people, he should practice his evil faces in the mirror—right now he looks like Yosemite Sam as pictured on those "Back Off" mudflaps. But with an upside-down cross burned into his forehead. The site goes on to boast: "With a relentlessly brutal sound and uncompromisingly blasphemous lyrics, Deicide helped set the standards for Death Metal well over a decade ago and have maintained those standards ever since." On their MySpace website that also serves as their official page. Killer. Sorry, Deicide, but Harvey Stephens is scarier.

Most importantly is that today is the National Day of Slayer, and we are encouraged to "listen to Slayer at full blast in any public place you prefer. DO NOT use headphones! The objective of this day is for everyone within earshot to understand that it is the National Day of Slayer. National holidays in America aren't just about celebrating; they're about forcing it upon non-participants." Sweet. I'm in full support of forcing evil celebrations on people. If they can successfully rouse Slayer fans from their meth- and pot-addled hazes, we could have full-scale anarchy on our hands.

Happy birthday to: Carl Barat of The Libertines and Dirty Pretty Things, Uncle Kracker, Munky from Korn, Paul Giametti, Sean Yseult of White Zombie, Phil Lews from L.A. Guns, Steve Vai, Colin Quinn, Sandra Bernhard and Harvey Fierstein. Too bad it's not the Count's birthday. Or that Shiloh Jolie-Pitt hadn't emerged today. That would have rocked.

Anyway, enjoy, you heathens. I'm going to go listen to some Priest albums backwards.


Don't eat before reading this

Two things: One—rock is gross. Two—knowing that, you may not want to read this. In fact, I had to take a scalding hot shower and scrub off with steel wool when I was done writing it. With that forewarning, I now present the 6 most disgusting rock stars ever—they're sick...and sickly fascinating. And they're good for at least one dry heave.

6. Nikki Sixx/Ozzy Osbourne
These two famously competed in a contest to see who could commit the single grossest act while on tour together. According to the epic and truly brill Motley Crue bio "The Dirt," Ozzy won after snorting a line of ants through a straw and then drinking Nikki's pee.

5. Donita Sparks
She's the guitarist/singer for the all-girl grunge quartet L7, and she makes the list for just one infamous incident: at London's 1992 Reading Festival, she reached under her skirt, yanked out her bloody tampon and flung it into the crowd with the rousing battle cry of "Eat my used tampon." She later said of the dirt-slinging audience, "They threw mud, we threw blood." So vile, so disgusting...and only a chick could do it.

4. Gorgoroth
Of course there's a Norwegian black metal band on the list! And what a shock—they are friends with the Count. The most infamous of their antics occurred in Poland when they splattered the stage with 80 liters of sheep's blood and impaled animal heads on stakes. The scene was so gory that one of the dancers that appeared on stage with the band (nude and "nailed" to a cross) passed out. Shortly after, the singer was convicted of assaulting a man and threatening to drink his blood, and last year another band member was convicted, and later aquitted, of the rape and torture of a fan. Just your nice average guys next door, apparantly.

3. Il Duce
What, besides utter depravity, can you expect from a band with members named Sickie Wifebeater, Dr. Heathen Scum and Moosedick? Seattle foursome The Mentors called their special brand of punk "rape rock" and developed a cult following for such inspiring songs as "Golden Showers", "On The Rag" and "Clap Queen". But it was drummer Il Duce's on- and off-stage antics that outgrossed the gross. He puked in a cup and drank it, crapped into his hand and carried it around like a newborn baby, and peed and jerked off all over the place. Duce is also the guy that claimed that Courtney Love hired him to kill Kurt Cobain in the controversial documentary "Kurt and Courtney"; mere days after filming his story, he was run over by a train (not literally Courtney, although some theorists think she was behind the weirdly conincidental incident).

2. Gibby Haynes
My friend Jane saw Gibby with the Butthole Surfers when they opened for the Dead Kennedys in the '80s and she said she was so grossed out by Gibby's performance that she left before seeing her beloved DKs. She said he came out on stage wearing a flimsy woman's nightie, squeezed his boob until it started bleeding, allowed the blood intermingled with sweat to run down into his filthy combat boots, then proceeded to remove a boot and DRINK. Ugh. But this was typical of the man who loved to shock via personal hygiene neglect and revolting movies of penis surgery, slaugherhouse footage and other disturbing imagry that sometimes caused audience members to vomit, faint and (in at least one instance) have seizures. Oddly enough, Gibby was a hotshot accountant when he left the profession to embark on a music career. He was also a star basketball player and an honors student in college and his dad was a popular Dallas-area children's TV host called "Mr. Peppermint."

1. G.G. Allin
G.G. is just so hellishly vile, he makes the rest of these guys look like Sunday School teachers. He's also perversely fascinating, so if you can get through this, it's worth it to look him up and read more about his life story. But I can only do some straight reporting here because, honestly, I don't even know where to start so I'm just going to jump right in.

G.G. was infamous and vilified for his rancid, violent live performances. Throughout the course of his on-stage career, he bashed his own teeth out with a mike; took shits on stage which he then ate, smeared on himself and hurled at the crowd; punched people in the front row; regularly recieved blow jobs from female admirers during performances; once ate a soiled tampon; ran around on stage naked; and attempted to fuck roadkill that was thrown at him. Ironically (or not), he was born Jesus Christ Allin, dubbed by his deeply religious father who heard voices telling him his son would become a messiah (his mother later legally changed his name to Kevin Michael). He performed in a number of punk bands with such names as The Scumfucs, The AIDS Brigade, The Texas Nazis, The Drug Whores and Bloody Mess & The Skabs, usually causing riots and/or ending up in jail for various assault and obsenity charges.

G.G. rarely bathed and often suffered from blood infections, brought on from smearing his own shit over his scabbed and mutilated body, and decorated himself with childlike prison tattoos reading "Life Sucks" and "Fuck You". He announced that his greatest show would end when he committed suicide onstage, but his true end was met in a less dramatic fashion. In 1993, following a chaotic show with the Murder Junkies, G.G. fatally ODed on speedballs at the home of a guy named Johnny Puke. His funeral is legendary—G.G. appeared in an open casket, unwashed and covered in bruises, dressed in a leather jacket and jock strap bearing the legend "Eat Me", bottle of Beam at his side. Funeral-goers took his jock off, snapped dick pics, shoved pills down his throat and drew on the body with a marker. After all the debauchery, he was laid to rest at a pretty traditional gravesite—traditional except for the fans that regularly visit his grave and shoot up, jerk off, cut themselves, et al grody activities, in his memory.

EWWWW. Ug. Gag. Bleh. I need a bit of a mental palate cleanser, how about you? Go ahead and read the touching story of the German swan who fell in love with a swan-shaped boat. Isn't that cute?


Read yesterday's post first, you cheater!

By popular demand, here are the answers to yesterday's '80s heavy metal quiz! Now, don't cheat. Take the quiz first and THEN you can look here.

I said DON'T CHEAT! I mean it. God is watching.

1. In an infamous upset, the totally un-metal Jethro Tull walked away with the 1989 Grammy controversially beating out Metallica's blistering performance of "One", the favorite in the category. In response to the criticism they received over the award, the band then took out an ad in a British newspaper to proclaim, "The flute is a heavy metal instrument!"

2. Gene Simmons' real name is Chaim Klein Witz.

3. "God Bless the Children of the Beast" was not on the list, but the Crue's "Bastard" was.

4. Skid Row was on tour opening for Guns N' Roses when "Slave To The Grind" relased at the top of the charts on June 11, 1991.

5. Believe it or not, Lars originally moved to L.A. to pursue a career as a tennis pro, when he met guitarist James Hetfield and formed Metallica. Lars' father Torben (who looks disturbingly like Gandolf) was the number-one ranked seniors tennis player in the world in the mid-70s.

6. Janet Gardener of Vixen is alive and well. Slaughter's Tim Kelly was killed in a car accident in 1998; Steve Clark's alcoholism caught up with him in 1991; and Ty Longley was one of 99 people who perished in a tragic nightclub fire in 2003.

7. "I was driving a septic-tank truck. I thought I'd be driving trucks all my life. I was a slow comer. I never dreamed of growing up and being a rock star. I used to be a shy guy, but when I started singing, I felt right at home."—Jeff Keith of Tesla

8. My boys GN'R did it: "Sweet Child" hit number one in '88, "Patience" peaked at number four a year later, and "Don't Cry" slid in at number 10 in '91.

9. The "big four of Thrash" are: Metallica, Megadeth, Anthrax and Slayer...not Dokken.

10. D—"Rocket Queen" is the last song on "Appetite For Destruction," but unfortunately some 15-year-old who posted once in 2001 got the coveted rocketqueen.blogspot.com moniker, hence the altered spelling. "Here I am, your RockitQueen. I might be a little young, but honey I ain't naive." Rock!!


RockitQueen's '80s Heavy Metal Quiz!

Hey, rock stars, let's see if you are as big a metalhead as I.
  1. Who won the very first Best Hard Rock/Metal Performance Grammy Award?

  2. Judas Priest
    Quiet Riot
    Jethro Tull

  3. Which of these metallers doesn't go by his or her real name?

  4. Gene Simmons
    Kip Winger
    Robbin Crosby
    Lita Ford

  5. Which metal song was NOT on the PMRC's original "Filthy 15" list of offensive tunes?

  6. "God Bless The Children Of The Beast", Motley Crue
    "Let Me Put My Love Into You", AC/DC
    "We're Not Gonna Take It", Twisted Sister
    "High N' Dry", Def Leppard

  7. What album was the very first metal album to debut at #1 on the Billboard charts?

  8. "Metallica" (the black album), Metallica
    "Slave To The Grind", Skid Row
    "GN'R Lies", Guns N' Roses
    "Look What The Cat Dragged In", Poison

  9. What was drummer/Napster-hater Lars Ulrich in training to be when Metallica hit it big?

  10. Sous chef
    Computer programmer
    Professional tennis player
    Dutch-English translator

  11. Which of the following metal guitarists is NOT dead?

  12. Tim Kelly, Slaughter
    Steve Clark, Def Leppard
    Janet Gardner, Vixen
    Ty Longley, Great White

  13. This singer drove a septic truck before he became a rock star.

  14. Kevin DuBrow of Quiet Riot
    Stephen Pearcy of Ratt
    Taime Downe of Faster Pussycat
    Jeff Keith of Tesla

  15. Which band had three power ballads to show in the top 10 on the US Hot 100 charts?

  16. Bon Jovi ("I'll Be There For You", "Wanted Dead Or Alive", "Never Say Goodbye")
    Guns N' Roses ("Sweet Child O' Mine", "Patience", "Don't Cry")
    Motley Crue ("Home Sweet Home", "Without You", "You're All I Need")
    Poison ("Every Rose Has It's Thorn", "I Won't Forget You", "Something To Believe In")

  17. Which band is NOT known as one of the "big four of Thrash"?

  18. Dokken

  19. Where in the world did I get the name RockitQueen?

  20. It's the nickname of a famous Sunset Strip groupie
    It's the name of an early Motley Crue bootleg
    It's the nickname of Angus Young's guitar
    It's a Guns N' Roses song

How many did you get right? Click the button below to find out then check out what your score means.
9–10 corrrect: You've got Metal Up Your Ass!!!!! You have at least 10 black T-shirts, still can't get over the shock of seeing Metallica with short hair, whip out the air guitar when "Panama" comes on the radio and would trade your firstborn for a "real" Guns N' Roses reunion. Congrats—you're just like me, you rock star, you! Wanna watch "Supergroup" with me on Sunday?

8–7: You're a Youth Gone Wild and Nobody's Fool, but lack the no-life rabidity of the metal connoisseur. Still, you've probably attended at least one hair metal reunion show in the last five years and have transferred all your 80s metal CDs onto your iPod. You may not rock to live, but you definitely live to rock.

6–5: I Remember You—you were a big metal fan in high school, but moved on to something else later in life. You probably know the words to a few of 80s metal songs, most likely the power ballads like "Every Rose" or the mega hits like "One", and you've probably caught VH1's "Most Metal Moments" countdown. But you're just more into the Strokes these days.

3–4: Welcome To The Jungle—this quiz was a toughie, wasn't it? I'm sure you know there is a difference between Metallica and Megadeth, but probably don't know Dave Mustaine from James Hetfield and why they hate each other. If you'd like to learn more, though, you've come to the right place. Stupid & Contagious can guide you if you'll just let it...

1–2: This has been your Theater of Pain. When you think of "metal", you probably think of Good Charlotte, Sum 41 or, god forbid, Avril Lavigne (and you probably loved her cover of "Fuel" at the Metallica Icon concert). My guess is that you might be a hipster, which would explain a lot.

0: God, you suck.