Chicken or egg?

Great minds think alike. And if you believe that, then I should be the head of creative at VH1.

The greatest reality show producers on the planet and I both have inflicted Rock of Love girls where are they now recaps on an unsuspecting and uncaring world.

If you're so inclined, you can watch the whole damn VH1 special online. Warning: it contains copious amounts of Rikki Rachtman.

The rundown is pretty close to mine: drunk, stripping, babies, stripping, drunk, stripping, finding the inner self, stripping, Hustler, stripping blah blah. Lacey's singing is fucking horrible (although I totally commend her dog rescue endeavors), Mindy's living in Cinci and working on some kind of food fetish calendar, Rodeo is a darn sweetheart and Brandi C. is engaged to a Billie Joe Armstrong lookalike. As an added bonus, some of the bitches bash on Bret and trash him for being a big, fake ho. The saddest (and awesomest) quote comes from Squishy Barbie Doll Head: "He's a skank just like me."

Embarrassing confession: I totes want to hang out with ASHeather.

Where are the Rock of Love hobags now?

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That's called survival, baby!

Schroeder: What's the matter with you? All you think about is "gimme, gimme, gimme; get, get, get"!
Lucy: That's called survival, baby!

Best quote ever from a children's cartoon!

Why isn't It's the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown shown on TV anymore? That show was fucking great! Marcie tries to toast eggs, Sally tries to walk in pink clogs and Snoopy has a psychedelic vision of dancing bunnies.

My personal favorite scene was when Snoopy got a peek inside Woodstock's birdhouse and discovered that he had the place all pimped out super-'70s style, complete with op-art furniture, a stereo with giant headphones and jazzy Playboy Club-style music. Sort of like when Greg Brady went all hippie and turned Mike's den into a groovy crash pad. Anyway, Snoopy gets jealous and tries to then get into the love den and, of course, destroys it. Whoever wrote the acid trip script for this show was a brilliant genius. If you want to see this scene, click here and go to about 6:30. Awesome.

Anyhoo, I'm cooking up some super-fun posts, so keep an eye out. We really need to discuss this Jesse James situation.

Neo-nazis need love, too

Much like herpes simplex, some of our old friends from posts past have a knack of just popping up unexpectedly. Count Grishnackh does this quite a bit, as does Suzanne Somers. Now we can add the Gaedes to that list.

If you've forgotten (and how the hell could you?), the Gaedes are a family that consists of twins Lynx and Lamb—also known as national socialist folk-pop duo Prussian Blue—and their mom April, who is sort of like a Dina Lohan-style stage parent, momager type. Who totally loves Hitler. In fact, the Gaedes love Hitler so much, they make Hitler snowmen (see Exhibit A, pictured left).

It's been a while since I blogged about this outfit. But it wasn't too long ago that I blogged about a Prussian Blue copycat group and wondered whatever happened to the original Olsen twins of the Third Reich, Lynx and Lamb. Still no word on that front, but a fun little piece of news did come out today that involves Mom April.

The hate group watchdogs at the Southern Poverty Law Center report that April Gaede has undertaken a new venture: neo-nazi matchmaking. That's right. April's now using her "connections" to hook white people up to breed more white people. “I am willing to act as a go between, researcher, matchmaker, older sister and guide for any WNs [white nationalists] who are looking for a WN spouse,” the Center quotes her as writing on a white power website. “Only email me if you are serious about finding a spouse or long term partner.”

You had me at sieg heil, April.

Just kidding. I wouldn't qualify anyway. My uncle sent a cheek swab to National Geographic and found out the Rockit family ancestors came from Northern Africa. Dirty! Tainted! Just like everybody in the whole history of the fucking world.

You may ask what qualifies April to be a matchmaker. Well, she's married, for one thing. And she likes to boast about how awesome her relationship with her husband is. “I was 37 with two children when my husband Mark and I met,” she wrote. “In any other circumstances we might have been an unlikely pair, a city boy who plays hockey and a country girl who trained horses. But because of our ideological similarities and our mutual concern about the future of our race we have much more in common than the average couple today.”

Those crazy kids! Who says opposites don't attract? Maybe they should make one of those cringeworthy how-we-met commercials like eHarmony does to promote April's matchmaking business. They could also film spots featuring successful matches. "I didn't want anyone to know I was having another racist find a white partner for me," an attractive but non-threatening blonde could say. "April matched us on 28 levels of deep Aryan compatibility." Come to think of it, eAryan would be a great name for the service! Or eWhitey. Even better!

Anyway, not all has been wine, roses and combat boots in April's love life. She and her first husband, the twins' father, bitterly divorced and her ex cited April's racist lunacy in an attempt to get custody of Lynx and Lamb. She says that her only regret of the whole ugly affair was that she didn't produce “four to six more children with that ideal eugenic quality that [Lynx and Lamb] possess.” Holy schnikes. This chick is hardcore!

It also turns out she has a real knack for hooking people up. Wait until you hear this:

April has a long and sordid history of micromanagement when it comes to the twins' "band." It all started when she recruited a very special songwriter to come up with some tunes for her then-preteen girls to sing: David Lane, an elderly former Aryan Nation leader serving a 190-year sentence for murdering a Jewish radio show host. He apparently was the model for Stacy Keach's character in American History X. Yes, Davey is a real Renaissance man.

Anyway, when Davey died, April evidently appointed herself micromanager of his funeral arrangements, too. She had Lane's body shipped from a prison in Indiana to her home in Montana and interred his cremated remains into 14 miniature pyramids. The SPLC reports in their article that the pyramids were supposed to be given to 14 different women, but a big fight broke out over the whole thing. Gee, how surprising that they all couldn't just deal with it in a calm and rational manner.

Maybe I'm naive but this thing with the body and the remains and the pyramids is just over-the-top bizarre, and that's saying a lot for this bunch. It's worth reading some of the other stories on the SPLC's site about April. As you're reading, imagine her as one of those wild-eyed pageant moms that pantomime routine steps along with their makeup-soaked toddlers. Among her repertoire of antics, she likes to angrily confront store clerks in checkout lines with wild accusations of pandering to minorities and shake them up to the point that they forget to ring up one of her items. She claims to always walk out of K-Mart or Ikea with something free and says it's the store's problem, not hers. And you thought your parents were embarrassing.

Plus the SPLC has a way with words. They refer to Prussian Blue's songs as "shrill odes," which I'm totally stealing.

They also mention that there exists a documentary about the Gaedes called Nazi Pop Twins. It sounds like a real winner even beyond the title, so stay tuned for an S&C skewing (if I can manage to get my hands on it).

Anyway, that's the latest from this koo-koo krazy little korner of the universe. Now you'll be able to sleep at night. Sweet dreams!

Punch Trunk love

I just found one of my childhood favorites on YouTube. Smoking, drinking, hallucinating...and the tiny elephant in the middle of it all.

Goofus & Gallant: The S&C True Hollywood Story, Part 1

One was a pretentious, moralistic brown noser with a compulsion for rule-following and a steel rod up his ass. The other: a devil-may-care loner who lived by the motto "rules were made for breaking."

Together, they personified right and wrong, good and evil, virtue and sin—two icons of ethics that polarized the world—until a spectacular fall from grace demolished the empire they created and threatened to destroy them and everyone around them.

This is their story.

The Goofus & Gallant S&C True Hollywood Story.

The golden boy
Gallant Quentin Barclay Godard was born on January 1 to Dr. Quentin X. Godard and Viscountess Elizabeth Barclay of Cranborne, an only child who was extremely gifted at birth.

"From the time he could walk, he was already opening doors for people, brushed and flossed his teeth twice a day and ate his brussel sprouts without complaint," says nanny Alice Leeds. "He was almost compulsively polite."

Gallant was a voracious learner who excelled in school. "When I asked him to start his homework, he'd always reply, 'It's finished and in my backpack, Mrs. Leeds. May I help you finish the dishes?' He never brought home less than a 100%. We ran out of room on the refrigerator!"

While Gallant had many friends, Leeds says some of his peers didn't understand him. "Many of the other kids' parents used him as an example of how they should behave, and that made him a target on the playground," she recalls. "It's not easy for a youngster to hear, 'Why aren't you more like that nice boy Gallant?' all the time."

"He was a major tattle," says former elementary school classmate Sally Wheedle. "You couldn't do anything fun without Gallant ruining it. Once we stole cigarettes from corner market and met behind the school to smoke them. Then here comes Gallant sauntering around the corner and lecturing us about how stealing is wrong and smoking is bad for you. We kept smoking anyway and he went and told Principal Dunkleman on us! Me and Matty and Gary and Hannah got detention for a month! And all Gallant had to say about it was, 'I'm just trying to do the right thing for everyone.' Fucking jerk."

One of the classmates serving detention was born the same day as Gallant and wound up being the golden boy's greatest foil.

The bad seed
Gary Ray Goofington was born to footstool factory worker Mike Goofington and his waitress wife Bev. The Goofingtons worked hard and scraped by as best they could, but little Gary Ray was often left to his own devices. "Gary Ray liked to use the bathroom in my begonias," remembers former neighbor Marva Cleary. "Whenever I told him not to and that it was bad, he would stick his middle finger up at me. And this from a four-year-old!"

Even as a child, Gary Ray had a heady influence over the other children in the neighborhood. "Why, they would follow him around like he was their guru," Cleary says. "And he could talk those kids into anything! Eggs in the mailbox, graffiti on the side of the house, Roman candles on the front porch...any mischief-making going on in our neighborhood had Gary Ray Goofington behind it."

The neighborhood kids had a nickname for Gary Ray. "We called him Goofus," says childhood pal Matt Duffy. "He would triple-dog dare you to do something right off the bat, and if you didn't agree to it you'd get the most brutal titty-twister of your life. I smoked my first cigarette because of him, I smoked my first joint because of him. I even rode Cape Fear-style under a bus to Fort Lauderdale with him. 'Free vacation!' he said. But I now have this exhaust pipe impression on my chest that will never go away."

Goofus' troublemaking wasn't just regulated to the playground. "He would make these little noises like a cricket in the classroom," says teacher Arnold McMann. "You would hear this sound coming from his corner of the room and before you knew it, other kids were joining in. Soon the entire class would be filled with students following his lead and making these 'eep eep' sound effects." Then entire class, that is...except for one student. "I had no idea it was Goofington until Gallant informed me after class," McMann recounts. "He was concerned that Goofington's antics were disrupting the other students and preventing them from learning about photosynthesis."

But it was when Gallant turned Goofus in to school authorities for smoking that a bitter rivalry was born...a rivalry that would rocket both boys to worldwide fame and, eventually, catastrophic ruin.

To be continued

Nomi Malone's Skool of Self-Esteem

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Sex, drugs and Saved by the Bell

This sordid little tale comes to us courtesy of RockitSis, who I tortured for years by trying to force her to watch Saved by the Bell with me. What I felt was a harmless and hilarious way to get my lil' sis riled up has turned around to bite everyone in the ass in the form of a tell-all Saved by the Bell book penned by none other than porn star and Harvey Walden III-annoyer Dustin "Screetch" Diamond!

According to NYMag:

Sometimes a book deal comes along that you never knew you were waiting for, but, once it's announced, you realize it has been your secret wish all along. Which explains our reaction to the news that Dustin Diamond, whose high-pitched nerdy exploits as Samuel "Screech" Powers figured prominently in nearly thirteen (!) years of Saved by the Bell incarnations (plus that infamous sex tape), has jumped on the tell-all bandwagon. Behind the Bell, which Gotham Books preempted from Objective Entertainment's Jarred Weisfeld, promises to detail "sexual escapades among cast members, drug use, and hardcore partying," and for those of us who spent untold hours in our formative years memorizing "I'm So Excited" and the entire back catalog of Zack Attack, this is the greatest book deal in the history of the universe.

But Diamond, with an assist from veteran ghostwriter Alan Goldsher, will really strike pop-culture gold if he can answer our most burning question: What if Miss Bliss had moved to Bayside with the SBTB gang instead of Principal Belding? The course of television history might have been irrevocably altered.

Sexual escapades? Drug use? Hardcore partying?? Only if it's Belding!

Freaks like myself will remember that many of these gossipy tidbits were already revealed in the Saved by the Bell E! True Hollywood Story. We already know what became of most of the kids on the show:
• Tiffani-Amber Theissen was bitchtastic Val on 90210 and Billie on Fastlane.
• Mark-Paul Gosselaar was on some cop show and starred in one of the most underrated comedies in my twisted mind Dead Man on Campus.
• Mario Lopez continues to be everywhere although I don't know why. He played Greg Louganis. And didn't he supposedly rape someone at some point?
• Elizabeth Berkley followed her dreams to Vegas to make it as a skanky topless showgirl, eat hamburgers and push Gina Gershon down a flight of stairs.
• Dustin Diamond, of course, made one of the only celebrity sex tapes that I refuse to watch and almost got is ass kicked by drill sergeant Harvey on Celebrity Fit Club
• I think I saw the girl who played Lisa in a Lifetime Moment of Truth movie once.

And we also already know that they pretty much all screwed each other (except Screech, of course) and smoked weed in their dressing rooms. So I hope it's not just that kind of stuff. And I did always wonder what happened to the biker lesbian Tori.

Anyway, more to come as this story develops! B-buh-B-B-B-Go Bayside!

Take my hand...off to Never-Neverland

So sick of interacting with family that you can hardly stand it? Here's some news to make you feel a little better. Remember The Pixy? Of course you do: he was the Stupid & Contagious Person of the Year for 2006. You may remember that I also did a fangirl post where I simply couldn't find it in my little black heart to snark on him.

Well, there's big news in Pixyland: the Pixy got engaged! TO A CHICK! And they totally dress up as fairyland characters together and hang out at Renaissance Faires and whatnot. There's even a pic of them wearing matching Little Lord Faulterouy outfits. It's sickinengly fabulous and I love it. He promises a "fairy tale wedding" and you better believe you'll be hearing all about it.

Anyway, big congrats to The Pixy and his Tinkerbell lady friend! Stupid & Contagious salutes both of you and wishes you a happily ever after. And thanks for helping me get my mind off of the Doorbusters. God almighty how I hate the Doorbusters...

100% chance of Snow

Cowtown had a record high temperature of 80 degrees Tuesday. It was awesome. Yesterday it was 40 and it started snowing, and today it's even colder. That's fucked up, no two ways about it. It's no wonder everyone gets so depressed this time of year. How are we supposed to function under these conditions? The answer is that we simply do not.

Jacked-up weather situations such as this totally mess with my mind. Case in point: as I stared in disbelief at the dandruff-esque flakes the sky was coughing up, I thought, "Snow? You've gotta be fucking kidding me. Speaking of which, whatever happened to early-90s Canadian rapper Snow?" What's the worst part of this story? I actually looked it up.

So, as if you care, I'll tell you what I discovered because I couldn't believe it. If the Wikipedia is to be believed (and why wouldn't it be?), this guy is still at large. He has released not one, not two, but FIVE albums filled with horrible songs since his cleverly-titled debut effort "12 Inches of Snow" in 1993. They are called—get ready—"Murder Love", "Justuss", "Cooler Conditions", "Mind on the Moon" and "Two Hands Clapping", and he's preparing to release yet another album jam packed with super-fly traxxx sometime this year. Believe it or not, he's had some success in Japan (where it seems everyone, including Edward Furlong, can have a music career) and, even more interesting, Jamaica. He's even got two Myspace pages, one for Artist Snow and another for Snow's fans, no doubt to quench their rabid froth for all the latest Snow news and phat-ass rhymes. No word if we can expect any beatboxing. And since you're probably wondering, Snow still looks like grown-up version of Sherman from "Bullwinkle", but after Mr. Peabody bit him in the face.

If you think that was an unwelcome blast from the past, I submit another name that I bet you hoped you'd never hear again: Gerardo. How could you possibly forget the shirtless, oiled, bandanna- and stonewashed jeans-clad Latin lover writhing around to that memorable chart-topper "Rico Suave"? No mas, no mas! But no such luck. Gerardo has also continued churning out the Spanglish hitz, including my personal fave "Fame, Sex y Dinero", which I'm guessing is his Latin American equivalent to sex, drugs and rock n' roll, or death and taxes or something. His last record "180 Degrees" may have hit stores back in '04, but he's still mixing it up one time, as you can see on his official website. And true to form, it seems he's still only addicted to the female species (he eats 'em raw like sushi). I don't know if it's good or bad that this is the only line I remember from this song. And the fact that I remember a line from this song is indicative of something far more disturbing in my psyche than any of us could have ever imagined.

Speaking of mental problems, whatever possessed Manson to lose it has apparantly also gotten me on a roll becase I also decided to do a little online research to see what Right Said Fred has been up to these days. Right Said Fred. The big gay Mr. Clean twins that, up until the release of "Fergalicious", were behind the dumbest song in the history of music. That's worse than checking in with Lihmal to see what's new, or googling The Heights to see how they did after the whole "How Do You Talk To An Angel", Drew Barrymore broken engagement thing. Apparently I'm not too sexy for any of this, and neither is my cat, Blackie Onassis. Remember him?

Anyway, if you thought that "I'm Too Sexy" was the only thing these two have ever done, you're so, so, so wrong; in fact, what they've done since is so completely awesome I can't even believe it's real. First of all, we all know those crazy Brits have a notoriously ungodly love of crappy pop music, but did you know that they managed to send Right Said Fred into the UK top 100 nine times?? Not only that, but "Don't Talk Just Kiss", "Stick It Out" and "Deeply Dippy", three songs with the dumbest titles ever, even made it all the way to the top ten! Let's write a song about that and call it "Deeply Disturbing." The last time they hit the charts was in 2001 with the suspiciously-titled "You're My Mate", which came in at number 18.

As is typical with Britpop, their biggest, baddest hit will be ressurrected, dance remixed, and rereleased to most likely hit number one again and again. Their official website breathlessly indicates that this malevolence is already underway. You heard it here first (well, second): "Right Said Fred are still too sexy in 2007! Sign up on the site now to stay up to date [sic] on their exciting new project! The 'I'm Too Sexy' revival is in full swing following Right Said Fred's starring role in the new daz adverts, with Ricky Tomlinson learning a new dance routine." I don't know who this "Ricky Tomlinson" is or generally what the fuck they are talking about but my interpretation is that there is probably some kind of TV commercial involving these people. Well, good for them anyway. According to the Wikipedia one of the brothers opened a gym and the other went on to become a member of "Gaytime TV" on BBC2. Ring, ring! Hello, cable company? This is RockitQueen. I demand BBC2 immediately. I'm starting a petition.

That was a nice little trip down memory lane, wasn't it? Nice to know that some of our fave one-hit wonders are making good with their lives and not slumming it up in Haimland. But if you want to know what ever happened to Wreckx-in-Effect, you're on your own. I'm done for now.

9 degrees of Spicoli

Have you ever had a conversation with someone where you start out just casually chit-chatting about the weather and 10 minutes later, you've somehow segued into how your high school driver's ed instructor kept spare pairs of underpants in the glove compartment of the test car (which is totally true, by the way...don't ask) and suddenly wondered how in the world you managed to ebb and flow from something menial into such an obscure and twisted topic? Well, I had an obscure and twisted train of thought today that I'm still a little bit flummoxed by, and it went a little something like this:

First, I started thinking about "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," which led me to think about the "five-point plan"*, a plot gimmick that ended up being reused and rejigged for every teen movie made since (but without the excellent recommendation of the first side of the fourth Led Zeppelin album, even though I personally prefer side two), including "Ferris Bueller's Day Off", where Ferris had about 10 five-point plans throughout the course of the movie. This then caused me to remember the awful "Ferris Bueller" TV show (starring a smug guy who looked kind of like Ted McGinley or the guy that played Bo on "Welcome Back, Kotter" and a pre-nose job Aniston), which then led me to think, "Hey, wasn't there also a short-lived Fast Times TV show?"

Indeed there was, and when I looked up the "Fast Times" TV series on IMDb, I was flabbergasted at how many stars were featured players on that show:
• Claudia Wells, Marty McFly's girlfriend in "Back to the Future", as golden girl Linda Barrett
• Courtney Thorne-Smith as super-slutty Stacy Hamilton
• Dean Cameron, Chainsaw in "Summer School", as Spicoli
• Jason Hervey, best known as uber-ass Wayne Arnold on "The Wonder Years", as Spicoli's younger brother ("Go away, CUR-TIS! I only hear you if you knock!")
• Wallace Langham, coroner's assistant David Hodges on "CSI", as skills-challenged Mark "Rat" Ratner (no relation to Brett)
• Moon Unit Zappa as a new character not featured in the movie
• and funniest of all, Patrick "McDreamy" Dempsey as ticket-scalping schiester Mike Damone! Man, I can't stop cracking up over that one...

If you think that's crazy, wait until you hear what popped into my head next: "Hm, I wonder if I can use the Kevin Bacon game to connect the two Spicolis?" I simultaneously thought that may have been the most pathetic idea I've ever dreamed up and became a woman possessed. I wouldn't eat or sleep until I'd accomplished this task, and I was sure I would be the first person to ever do so. Shut up, brain, food can wait!

Well, guess what...I DID IT! And it didn't even take that long. Behold the glory:

Sean Penn (Spicoli, movie) was in the 1997 indie flick “Hugo Pool” with
Patrick Dempsey (Damone, TV), who was in some star-studded early-90s film called “Bank Robber” with
Forest Whitaker (Jefferson, movie) AND
Judge Reinhold (Brad, movie), who was in “Gremlins” with
Phoebe Cates (Linda, movie), who was in the Sundance hit “The Anniversary Party” with
Jennifer Jason Leigh (Stacy, movie), who provided a voice for the animated series “Mission Hill” which also features the voice of
Wallace Langham (Rat, TV), who guest starred on an episode of “ER” with
Anthony Edwards (Stoner, movie), who was in “Revenge of the Nerds 2” with
Courtney Thorne-Smith (Stacy, TV), who was in “Summer School” with
Dean Cameron (Spicoli, TV)!!!

I know I shouldn't be proud of having done this, but I am. So it's a few more than six degrees...surely, no one has even attempted this, so if anyone can do a better job, I'll be very impressed. And with this small victory, my train of thought finally comes to the end of the railroad tracks of my obsession. And thank god. Now I can finally eat.

* Just in case you forgot the sempiternal wisdom of Mike Damone, here's the original five-point plan, as tested on a cardboard cut-out of Debbie Harry in front of Record Town at the mall: "First of all, Rat, you never let on how much you like a girl. 'Oh, Debbie. Hi.'
Two: you always call the shots. 'Kiss me. You won't regret it.'
Three: act like wherever you are, that's the place to be. 'Isn't this great?'
Four: when ordering food, find out what she wants, then order for the both of you. It's a classy move. 'Now, the lady will have the linguini and white clam sauce, and a Coke with no ice.'
And five—now this is the most important, Rat. When it comes down to making out, whenever possible, put on side one of Led Zeppelin IV." (cut promptly to Stacy and Rat riding in a car and blasting "Kashmir"—from Physical Graffiti).

A deep, analytical look at child star bands

My tendancy to obsess over menial subjects continues. This week's target topic is Former Child Star Bands, which you have to admit is completely fascinating. Unable to cope with being out of the spotlight once puberty hits, a disproportionate number of ex-kiddie moppets from our favorite shows and movies wind up assaulting our ears with their side-project "art." I knew all that alleged two-hour-a-day, on-set-tutoring was bullshit; in reality, they are all getting high in their trailors dreaming of being the next Brandon Cruz. So how are they doing anyway? I tried to be non-objective in my approach here (meaning whatever annoying character they played in the past has no bearing on my assessment), but who am I kidding? Corey Feldman singing theatrical metal? This entry practically wrote itself.

Bad 4 Good (Danny Cooksey)
It doesn't get any better than this. Annoying Sam from "Dif'rent Strokes" singing "I'm bad and I ain't even dead!" Aside from the Cooksey association, two friends brought to my attention that this band also features a young longhair by the name of Thomas McRocklin, who was a little protege of Steve Vai. I mean, who can even compete with a name like that? I don't care if it's a stage name—Thomas McRocklin + Danny Cooksey = gold, Jerry, gold!
Cheesy awesomeness factor: 10
Actual talent: 6
Overall assessment: Goes past bad to good and all the way back to bad again

Elephone (Ryan Lambert)
Before the Mickey Mouse Club became the hotbed for young pop talent, a little show called "Kids, Incorporated" showcased the next generation of precocious brats that would go on to make shitty music. Martika, Stacy "Fergie" Ferguson and Ryan Lambert all sprung forth from the demon loins of this godforsaken pre-teen variety show. While Martika now dabbles in goth-pop, and Fergs overcame her meth-addicted girl-group days to pee her pants on stage with the Black Eyed Peas, cute little Ryan went on to front the "indie/rock/Hawaiian" outfit Elephone. It shouldn't come as any surprise that they're all emo-ed out with smart-boy glasses, brush haircuts and Kitson boutiquewear. The sound is Radiohead-ish, via The Smiths with a side order of My Bloody Valentine.
Cheesy awesomeness factor: -5 (just like the old days, when he was pretending to be a riverboat captain, Ry-Ry still takes himself far too seriously)
Actual talent: 6
Overall assessment: OK, I'll admit I didn't hate it and Ryan is kind of cute. But the pretentiousness level is hilariously high, and thus, it sucks. Let's be realistic...the only reason anyone would go see them is to see the kid from "The Monster Squad". Don't hide from your past, Ryan, embrace it. It's all over YouTube now, so there's no getting away. Just do a cover of the "Kids, Inc." theme and get it over with.

New Radicals (Danielle Brisebois)
Danielle, who played the charming little foil to Archie's grumpy curmudgeon on "All in the Family", may arguably be the most successful of the child star banders, thanks to the New Radicals' "You Get What You Give". Do you remember them? The lead singer always wore a frat dink bucket hat and that song had the living hell played out of it in the late '90s. I fucking hated it. So even though Danielle was involved in something that might be recognizable to the general public does not mean it doesn't suck.
Cheesy awesomeness factor: does not compute
Actual talent: 1 (well, they play their own instruments...)
Overall assessment: Sucks

The Papercranes (Rain Phoenix)
Though not as well-known as her actor bros Joaquin and the late River, Rain Joan of Arc Phoenix has a couple of respectable roles under her belt, as well as appearances on "Family Ties" and "Amazing Stories". She also looks DISTURBINGLY like her brother Joaquin. Hey, didn't the Phoenix family belong to the Children of God/Hookers for Christ cult? If so, that puts a whole new twist on this Fiona Apple-lite, twingy-twangy, keyboard-plinky, sad-girl-looking-out-a-rainstreaked-window alt. pop. Maybe this music that nearly lulled me to sleep was MEANT to do that, so it could fill my head with quasi-religious messages that will lead me to shave off all my hair and wear ankle-length skirts all the time.
Cheesy awesomeness factor: 1
Actual talent: 3 (she's not completely tone deaf and she's a Phoenix)
Overall assessment: The Papercranes are fucking awesome. They are the best band of all time. They are better than The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Elvis Presley combined. Oh, wait, I mean the subliminal messages didn't work on me! What I meant to say is: it sucks.

Tiffany Brissette
Hm, that name doesn't sound familiar, you say, to which I reply, "Does VICKY THE ROBOT ring a bell?" How could you forget the thought-provoking genius that is "Small Wonder"? And while Jerry Suprian hasn't really won any Nobel Prizes for Physics, it turns out the greatest robot character actor in the history of television and film has really moved on to the music industry. More specifically, the contemporary Christian music industry. While that is really not all that surprising, what is is that she's allegedly slated to be on the next installment of the Surreal Life. It would be better if she was exposed as a meth-guzzling beastiality porn star, but it might still be fun, especially if she's one of those "Jesus is Cool" people and she ends up on the show with someone like Ron Jeremy.
Cheesy awesomeness factor: 9
Actual talent: ? (but if her skills at impersonating a robot are any indication, I'm guessing it's going to be pretty high)
Overall assessment: OK, I didn't actually hear any of her songs, but did I really need to? Have you ever heard any cotemporary Christian song that didn't sound exactly the same? So my guess is going to be: sucks.

Truth Movement (Corey Feldman)
Log onto Corey's website and you are immediately assaulted with an elevator version of "I Will Survive." Pretty optomistic message from ol' Feld-dog. I barely survived checking out the clips of his music on Amazon; I'm not even sure if what I heard was the actual music or a "Welcome to Windows MediaPlayer" intro. The only clue I had was the singing, because his singing voice sounds exactly like his speaking voice. Then I started picturing him doing Michael Jackson dance moves and crotch grabs and that pretty much put an end to this whole experiment.
Cheesy awesomeness factor: off the fucking charts
Actual talent: -2.5
Overall assessment: Imagine a lite-rock version of a Cradle of Filth song playing in the dentist's office. Then imagine how you felt after waking up in the dentist's office after having your wisdom teeth yanked out. Which is strangely exactly how I feel right now...

Where have you gone, Jackie Earle Haley?

If there's one thing I like to do for my readers, it's to shamelessly resort to internet stalking to get answers to the hard-hitting questions that are on everyone's minds. Such as, "Whatever happened to the guy who played Kelly in The Bad News Bears"?

You know who I'm talking about. He was the little shit hotshot player who rode around on a motorbike and kept taunting Tatum O'Neal because she was a GIRL. I think he drove a van with an airbrushed desert scene on the side in the sequel. All I really remember about it is the Bears made it all the way to some championship at the Astrodome and there was a "let them play" chant at some point. Didn't Corey Feldman play him in the TV version? Anyway, his real name is Jackie Earle Haley and you may also remember him as Moocher in "Breaking Away," and as the male nymphomaniac that upstaged Tom Cruise in "Losin' It."

So just as I was preparing to post on this all-important topic, I check out the newly announced Oscar noms and guess who is up for Best Supporting Actor: JACKIE EARLE HALEY! Isn't that too weird? I'd say it's a one in a million chance that something like this happens again. It's like saying, "Hey, remember that annoying kid that played the brother on 'Small Wonder'?" then the next day reading that Jerry Supiran has just won the Nobel Prize for Physics for his groundbreaking development of laser-based precision spectroscopy, including (but not limited to) the optical frequency comb technique. (And for the record, I looked up his name...my no-lifed-ness does have a limit!) So if Jackie wins, he should totally thank me in his acceptance speech because of this convaluted psychic ability I seem to have.

Turns out Jackie had been doing pretty well even before his award nomination. I looked him up online and found this website for his production company. He's a very successful commercial director and seems to be a very respected personality in the entertainment industry. And good for him. After working with Tatum O'Neal, Tom Cruise and Danny Bonnaduche it would seem that this is one child star that beat the odds.

So now that my heart has been warmed, I have another burning question for you: whatever happened to Danny Cooksey? Remember him as the precocious redheaded moppet on "Dif'rent Strokes" who was quite possibly the number one most annoying person on television ever (with the exception of Scrappy Doo)? Oh, god, I shouldn't have asked because I got curious and looked him up...he's still acting! And his latest star turn is as "Minnesota Drunk Slob" in the fabled blockbuster "Bottoms Up". You may also recognize his legendary voice work as "Pizza Man/Agent Disembodied Head" on "Invader ZIM". I had no idea that was him and I Tivo "Invader ZIM" every day (ha, ha).

Oh yeah, and he's also in a band. How shocking. And they're called Bad 4 Good. I don't think they are anything like Color Me Badd; by the looks of that picture my guess is that they are going for a Blind Melon-meets-Silverchair vibe. And I wouldn't want to see any of those guys shirtless either.

You know what would be really awesome? If Bad 4 Good went on tour with Thruster (fronted by former "Family Ties" brat Brian Bonsall), Elephone (featuring Ryan Lambert of "Kids, Incorporated") and Corey Feldman's band. It could be the Back in the Biz Tour or something like that...my god, that's such a great idea. I think this needs to be a whole separate post.

If you can think of any other former contestents on "Battle of the Network Stars" I can do a "Where are they now?" on, let me know via the comments section. Suddenly my interest has been piqued. What about hunky Tyler Benchfield from "Life Goes On"? Or the kids from "Alf"? Or the guy who played Beans Baxter? And how many more examples of bad television can I admit to watching? So many questions, so few answers.

Remember yesterday, walking hand in hand

Help me, I can't stop with the end-of-the-year stuff! And I thought it would be rather interesting at this juncture to revisit some of the misfit toys I've written about over the past year and see where they are now. Don't you think that would be fun? I do! So here we go:

Corey Haim, elephantine former child star/pill popper
When we last left the Haimster, he had suffered a drug-induced stroke and was an aimlessly drifting vagabond; recently rumors swirled that he was filming a reality series with '80s pal Corey Feldman that I predicted would be the greatest show to ever appear on anything ever in the history of the whole world. Well, get ready for this: according to IMDb, this alleged reality show is 100 percent real, is currrently in production and is set to air on A&E later this year! Those geniuses over at A&E...they really know what people want. Let's hope they mimic the style of Intervention and refuse to step in and put a stop to the action when stuff starts getting good—the Coreys smoking up and then getting in a naked fight would beat the Zapruder film in historical importance, if you ask me.

David Blaine, guy who does stuff for long periods of time
Remember when I blogged Blaine's live breath-holding stunt as it happened? Two hours of my life wasted, that I will never get back. I'm not sure who is more brain damaged: me or him. Well, OK, he may be edging me out—in November, he embarked on his latest absurd stunt, which was to spin around in a "gyroscope" for 16 hours and then free himself from the aparatus as it was moving. I'm not making this up. Part of me wishes I had more information on this ridiculousness, but another part of me would rather forget I ever mentioned the name "David Blaine" in this blog, so I'm just going to stick with that one and move on.

The Duggars, brood o' zealots
Don't remember the Duggars? I have two words for you: Wholesome Swimwear. Yes, the Duggars were the esteemed winners of the coveted Most Morbidly Fascinating Stupie for 2006 (shared, of course, with the Count). At last count, happy homeschooling parents Jim Bob and Michelle boasted a grand total of 16 rugrats, ranging in age from 17 to five months, and all of whom were featured in three sickly intriguing Discovery Health Channel specials. In one of the specials, they all loaded into the family shuttle bus (that's not sarcasm; their vehicle is a fucking shuttle bus) and set off for a psycho-Christian homeschooling conference, singing songs the whole way. Anyway, since winning the Stupie, the family has finished building their 7,000-square-foot compound BY HAND and moved in, presumably to get started on Duggartown. And, oh yeah, Michelle's pregnant...AGAIN. No joke.

Glen Benton, devil-loving, metalhead lusus naturae
From the godly Duggars we move on to the guy who burned an inverted cross into his forehead. You may recall that Glen was the recipient of the best threat letter ever, which was sent to him by a group of animal activists pissed off about his live-sacrifice posturing. Well, these days it's more of same. As you'll recall, Deicide released an album on 6-6-06 cagily titled "The Stench of Redemption", and they are currently touring off of that album in Europe. I have been unable to find any info on if the Animal Militia has been following Glen around on tour, making his life a living hell (which you would think he would enjoy), but I can only hope they haven't let up on their relentless smear campaign. There's nothing like driving a point home with abject, unrelenting violence; true boyfriends of Satan wouldn't have it any other way.

Jeanne Bice, nutjob "fashion" "designer"
I'm almost ashamed of myself for the amount of vitrol I poured out about this woman and her horrific Quacker Factory QVC clothing line. It doesn't feel good to hate that much, let me tell you. But just take one look at the frumpy tunics and novelty-print stretch pants and I'm sure you'll feel the same intense detestment as I. Unfortunately, Jeanne continues to foist her shitty clothing on the world, and recently hosted a Thanksgiving special from her fabulous Sunshine State home that I'm totally jealous of. And before you ask, yes, she's sadly still wearing stuffed, bejeweled headbands with matching velour muumuus and sturrup pants, which I'm sure are all very comfortable in the Florida heat. There's got to be a good Jeanne-ism in there: "When life gives you an intensely hot, sauna-like day, wear all the bedazzled velvet you want—'cause that's what us wild and crazy Quackers do!"

Lynx & Lamb Gaede, teen folk-singing neo-nazi twins
This write-up was actually one of my most popular posts (I got five emails!) and how could it not be? It's about teen folk-singing neo-nazi twins. Anyhoo, it's pretty much business as usual with these two—they continue to release their tone-deaf, rah-rah Hilter songs under the moniker Prussian Blue, and are even starring in some kind of documentary, which is being filmed now. I'm betting it will be a gritty "American History X" meets "A Mighty Wind" meets "Capturing the Friedmans" sleeper hit in the art theaters that will spur an avalanche of press coverage, incite activists and will lead the twins' creepy stage mom April to brag about how much publicity they are getting, even if it's negative. Interestingly enough, the Gaedes were chased out of California when word got out about Prussian Blue and concerned neighbors decided they didn't want the likes of these kooks in their neck of the woods; they have since relocated to Montana. Are the Freemen still operating up there? Seems like they would all be pretty good pals.

Matt Smith, pious ex-Real Worlder behind NoMoHo.com
Matt can usually be found smugly preaching about purity, pimping his shitty chastity belt buckles and/or trotting out suspicious data on connections between porn and crime. These days he is—wait for it—planning his wedding. Go ahead and barf. I hope the missus-to-be doesn't mind wearing a NoMoHo belt buckle until the big day to remind her to keep her knees pressed firmly together until Matt's pastor says it's OK. Wouldn't it be funny if Matt invited all of his Real World friends and they used the reception as an opportunity to get wasted and have a camera-whore hot tub orgy? Matt would be so shocked by all the action that he'll spend his wedding night facing the corner and trying to find a happy place.

All right, enough with the riff-raff and now for the two who miraculously didn't take out restraining orders on me in the last year. Eric Avery, musician extrordinare, has completed his solo album (YAY!) and has been keeping up with his blog and even responding to fan questions in his comments section! In case you're wondering, I haven't left a comment or question for him. If I do, it better be something good, you know what I'm saying? We'll see...maybe one of these days when I'm feeling like everything I say is cool...

And as for Ville Valo, the loveliest boy in Narnia, I'm pleased to report that his physique is no longer Haim-like in proportion. He's still looking a little scraggly and more than a little lost. Don't worry, Ville, you'll find your way. Fat or thin, you're still hotter than a mofo and I have high hopes you'll get it all together in '07.

I just realized that nearly all of these entries involve religion in one way or another. Is that a character flaw? And which circle of hell will all this relegate me to? I'm guessing I'm lined up for either five for all the wrath I've unleashed or two for making lewd comments. It will be interesting to see how things turn out, and that might be a good post for another time.

Anyway, happy new year and next post I promise won't have anything to do with the past.

Random weirdness with no point whatsoever

There seems to be a mysterious smell wafting from the kitchen of my home. I think it might be a rotten banana. At least I hope that's what it is. It's like the Mojave in this place, and not in a good way. Let's just say that whatever it is was just seeing a mirage and succombed to natural dehydration and lack of breatheable air. Before the same happens to me, I'd like to get a few newsy tidbits out to you, none of which I will be proud to say may be the last items I report.

• Recognize that deer-in-the-headlights expression above? It's worn by Jennifer Wilbanks, the so-called "runaway bride". Who can forget her wacky little disappearance that turned out to be a racist, costly, and generally annoying hoax and she had actually consciously ran away from her impending 600-guest, 14-attendant wedding? You may also know that she and her sketchy fiancee are no longer together and that she sold her "story" that will most likely result in a NYT bestseller or some Lifetime Moment of Truth movie. Apparantly she's now suing her sketchy ex. What's that? You don't care? Yeah, I really don't either. Honestly, I was just looking for an excuse to post her mug shot. So here it is! Don't look directly into her eyes—just take my word for it.

Now on to the big scoop...

• If you thought my last report of a celeb sex tape was a libido killer, wait until you hear this: Federfucker is allegedly dangling a homemade porno tape before his estranged wife's disbelieving eyes and threatening to priority mail it to the tabs if she doesn't meet his divorce settlement demands. If there was ever a shred of possibility that Brit had any gray matter at all in that little head of hers, this should squelch it. WHAT AN IDIOT! It's simple math: sex tape = lifelong humiliation. There's no potential in that equation. You record sex, it WILL end up in the hands of someone who was not there. And if you're Britney Spears and you're shooting homemade porn with an unemployed "dancer"/deadbeat dad...it's official: she is the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. I'll admit it: on my BritFed divorce survey I answered "a" on number 3. That's right: Kevin Federline is kind of my hero. Seriously, you'd TOTALLY do the same thing—don't lie! If this whole sex tape thing is true (and I'm betting it is based on all the videotaping they did for that stupid show of theirs), I might even have MORE respect for the guy because he was obviously planning for his future. On top of it all, he's given the no-life public, such as myself, the gift that keeps on giving. Don't run out and by stock in GlaxoSmithKline...I'm talking about a super-juicy celeb divorce. Let the games begin!

• Need a moment of zen? Here you go: Jacko got a blowout.

That's it. Too much freakiness for one day. That smell is less disturbing.

This is what too much rocking can do to you

Do you know who this man is? Here's a hint: it's NOT Truman Capote. Here's another hint: you can take the wildest guess ever and it still won't be right. Are you ready for the answer?

IT'S ADAM FUCKING ANT!

Remember what he used to look like back in the "Goody Two Shoes", dating-Jamie-Lee-Curtis days? He was pretty hot, if I recall correctly. Time, the road and biopolar disorder (which, according to wikipedia, led him to wave a fake gun and threaten people in a pub) has caused this man to go from '80s coverboy to a pasty, doughy freakshow. Kind of interesting (read: chilling) to see how the mighty have fallen. This slideshow features then and now pics of music legends and one-hit wonders so you can see for yourself what happens when you live too much of the high life. For example: Bruce Springsteen? Not so bad. Gary Glitter? Holy fucking shit! I mean, he looked like a lunatic before, but now he's practically advertising "I'M INTO KIDDIE PORN". He should be jailed for life based on what he LOOKS LIKE he's up to in that "now" picture.

Some more vitally important observations:
• I'm not one to start rumors, but I think there is a decent possibility that Eddie Van Halen has been chasing a few dragons around, if you know what I'm saying. Jesus, that man looks bad. No wonder Valerie divorced him; I wouldn't want to wake up and see that thing drooling on the pillow next to me. And he looks like he's got really bad breath, most likely a combo of stale Kools, cough syrup and grocery store sushi.

• It's confirmed: Tom Petty is actually dead and his reanimated corpse is now walking around pretending to be alive Tom Petty and is only moments away from tearing the flesh off of some unsuspecting innocent. Watch out! But despite his return from the crypt, his hair is exactly the same as it used to be. Weird.

• Axl, Axl...my god, Axl. Suddenly he's out in public all the time again and it makes you wonder what was happening all that time he was living as a recluse and consulting psychics about if he should leave the house today. All that plastic surgery, all the godforsaken braided dreds. There's no more sense of mystery to Axl; the only question surrounding him now is how is it that Duff (whose kidney or liver or something fucking EXPLODED because of all his drinking) and Slash (who had to hired a guy to carry him around because he was always so wasted) both look better.

• Who has the more offensive caps—Hillary Duff, Gary Busey or Jon Bon Jovi? OK, OK, Busey wins because I think his are made out of wood, like George Washington, but the point is: why do people get caps that are pure white instead of a realistic tooth color? Teeth are not pure white! But they are also not pure black, Eddie Van Halen.

• I hate English-manor, horsemistress-chic Madonna.

• If Phil Collins ever needs a decoy when he's running away from fans trying to create a diversion, whatever, I have a suggestion:

All in all, good snarky fun, per usual. Check it out, mofos, and feel good about how you look. Oh, and also...FREE DOG!

More stupid than contagious

I had about ten things I wanted to write about and couldn't decide what to post, so I decided to just type up a little grab bag of news. Here you go...enjoy. I guess.

• The big news this week is the revelation that Jodie Sweetin, who played the precocious (read: fucking annoying as shit) middle daughter Stephanie Tanner on "Full House" was a crackhead for two years, while she was married to a cop no less, and is now clean and looking for work. Apparantly, an intervention was held by her "Full House" castmates, and I'm trying to imagine what THAT was like. I mean, what is an intervention featuring the Olsen twins, Bob Sagat and Dave Coulier like? I don't even know what to say about that, except I WANT TO KNOW MORE and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

• In other stupid news, Britney might be pregnant again. She's sick of Sean Preson already? Or else he wasn't enough to make Federline want to stay home? Either way, if there is any kind of otherworldly higher power, there will not be another baby produced from a Britney Spears/Kevin Federline coupling. Do you hear me, god(des)? There will NOT.

• It's funniest on "COPS" when someone is arrested without their shirt on.

• Because I'm sure the two people that read this blog are dying to know what Mayhem did to get banned from both Indonesia and Malaysia, I conducted extensive research to get answers to this burning question. Good news. You all can sleep tonight because I finally found an answer. In what is probably the most surprising thing you've heard in the last five seconds, the reason for the ban is "unacceptable values" and promotion of "satanic worship and drug use." Somebody known has "Wong Kam Hoong" has vowed to not let our favorite merry band of badasses anywhere near the city limits of Kuala Lumpur. So there you go.

• After that big let-down, you might be even more disappointed to find out that ex-Mayhem vocalist Maniac was the subject of one of the (other) Top 10 Most Ridiculous Black Metal Pics of All Time for this way-cute picture. Here's the hilarious assessment of the offending photo by Mike of Hobart from Ruthless Reviews: Maniac slides into #4 for two obvious reasons: (1) His new pseudo-mullet hairdo is anything but metal; he looks older than my fucking dad. (2) That Shredder-style, spiked armguard with a pig’s head impaled on it might be the lamest black metal prop ever. Did he do the entire show with that on his hand? Looks pretty cumbersome to me. Anyway, how about the necrobestialerotic faces he’s making? I like the way he kicks out his hip in the first pic, showing off for the cameraman who is surely beating his cock raw to all of this. I mean, is that supposed to be sexy? Or tough? Or unholy and grim and inverted? Also, nice pants asshole. Old Navy was having a sale?

Ha! If you can't get the link to work, Google it, 'cause there's plenty more good stuff where that came from.