rollingstone.com tripe

here's the one I just browsed:

Well Hung at Dawn

The Grateful Lips, Clay Yorke and more

For the first time in our long, storied history of writing this here column, we can honestly say: Don't blame us! That's right folks, it was the bastid Rollingstone.com mainframe, rather than your pals Michael and Jason's usual procrastination, that kept you from enjoying your biweekly (triweekly?) dose of Well Hung fun. And so, with the exception of all that "Go Dean!" material that got tossed into the virtual shredder, get ready for a veritable torrent -- this regular edition, the long-promised List-o-mania 2K3, and, coming next week, our often-imitated, never-duplicated, star-studded Grammy Awards coverage. Christ, we're already exhausted!

We'll kick off the week's by showing off our sage political wisdom: Kerry/Richardson '04. Remember, you read it here first!

Ryan Adams breaks his widdle wrist and cancels his whole tour? What a pussy! That said, we've got to give him props for taking his Replacements fixation all the way to the limit.

Though waaaaay too many words have been wasted on the whole Janet Jackson and Justin Trousersnake contretemps, we'd like to add one more: Blech!

Otherwise, our Super Bowl thoughts go a little something like this: Troy: Loews can charge our credit cards right now! We're so there! Starsky and Hutch: We're holding our for the film version of Tenspeed and Brown Shoe, thanks very much. And "from the studio that brought you Remember the Titans and The Rookie," (not to mention Mystery, Alaska) yes, it's Miracle: The U.S. wins.

Personal to Jamie Pressley: We love you. Marry us . . . Other than Clay Aiken, who plays the Stuckeyville Arena? We're thinking they get stuff like the Eddie Money/Starship tour or maybe rodeos where monkeys ride sheep dogs.

The new Good Charlotte video makes us want to kill ourselves. Or them. Wait a sec. Them. Definitely them . . . So Spielberg -- or as we call him, Uncle Morty -- has finally decided to release Schindler's List on DVD. Of course, in the new deluxe version the Nazis are all carrying walkie-talkies instead of guns. Sorry, Steve, all the PC changes in the world won't change the fact that Schindler's List is the Worst Movie Ever Made. We'd sooner spend our money on the big Vines/Jet craptacular.

In upcoming sci-fi-com news, Luke Wilson is Philip J. Fry . . . While Martin Freeman is unquestionably Arthur Dent, Mos Def is mos def not Ford Prefect. We're all for affirmative action, but that's getting ri-goddam-dicullous.

The L Word is just like Melrose Place. Only with lesbianism! People, we have seen the future of television!

Go figure -- Rob Halford is no longer the dirty joke member of Judas Priest . . . We know we're supposed to come up with a joke, but really, there's nothing amusing about Spalding Gray. Of course, that's always been the case.

If you'd have told us ten years ago that one day Wayne Coyne would be on the cover of Relix, we'd have said you were a lying scumbag. We know it's hard to believe, but ladies and gentlemen, the Flaming Lips are your new Grateful Dead. Now with seventy-five percent less drugs!

Words We Never Thought We'd See in a Bookstore: Illustrated by Bono. And quite poorly, we might add. Looks like he spent all of seven minutes on it -- "Fine, Gavin, I'll do you another favor . . . "

John Kasay = big loser . . . Does Stuckeyville have a minor league hockey team? If so, Jason would like to write about them . . . The ad guys at ESPN have been in especially fine form of late, with the "Nimrods" series and, especially, the brilliant Michigan/Ohio State "making out" spot. Meanwhile, Chris Berman is as big a pinheaded a-hole as ever -- a Lieberman supporter, natch. Hey Chris, we got your "Joe-mentum" right here!

Um, who the sugar-frosted fuck is ekoostik hookah and why would anybody pay to see them?

Cathy is getting married and Sex & the City is wrapping up its (awful) final season. Yes, February is a cruel month for the spinster old maids of America . . . Urge Overkill without Blackie Onassis is like Extreme without Nuno Bettencourt . . . Hey, check it out: The frickin' Stray Cats are reuniting at Brixton Academy. Shouldn't we have seen those negotiations on VH1?

Variation on a Recurring WHAD Theme: Mmmmmmmm . . . Stella Vessey.

Who's a bigger asshole: Bill Keller or Dennis Miller? We here at WHAD simply can't decide . . . We never could stand the Dandy Warhols, and never much cared about the Brian Jonestown Massacre one way or another, but DiG! is the shit. It's better than I Am Trying to Break Your Heart and Kurt and Courtney put together . . . And speaking of Sundance, we're appalled, if not surprised, that there's a Boondock II. But what we really want to know is, how did numbnuts director Troy Duffy get Sean Patrick Flannery and Norman Reedus to clear their schedule?

Now, Mos Def as Zaphod Beeblebrox, that could work . . .

The wonderful Kelly Hogan will be special-guesting on the new Tortoise record, their first song with vocals in ten years. What a bunch of fucking sell-outs . . . We wonder if Irving knows that Cathy has been sleeping with Funky Winkerbean for years. And we're not even going to discuss the threesome with Dilbert!

Anyone else ever notice that Clay Aiken looks a helluva like Thom Yorke? Has anyone seen them in the same room together? We smell a conspiracy . . .

If the concept of a Snickers Energy Bar is oh so wrong, then we don't want to be right . . . Kim Clijsters' mom is hotter than her daughter, though that isn't saying much . . . Ya know what would be even funnier than a monkey riding a doggy? A monkey riding a kitty.

Finally, we'd like to say au revoir to one of the most important artists of the late twentieth century, the great Mary Ellis Bunim. She leaves a truly extraordinary legacy of genius TV -- plus one pretty crap movie -- and we will miss her. We trust The Real World will honor her memory by beating some serious Road Rules ass in The Inferno. That Veronica really fucking pisses us off.