Charlotte Church admits 'loving her bum': Oh my dear lord. If this isn't concrete evidence of the end of the world, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS.

"Nasty, put some clothes on!" Anyone who knows how I feel about Anna Kournikova ("She's not that great a tennis player; she hasn't even won a tournament! On top of that, she's really plain. The only reason people are gaga over her is because she's a blond Russian; the number of more attractive female tennis players on the tour is kind of staggering. Etc, etc etc.") will understand the intense glee this story brings me. Put that one in yer portfolio, sweetie.

FEAR: I've received many disturbing things via email, but very few of them could compare to this. The only thing I can say is THANK GOD there were no pictures to go along with that.

Random music update: Angie Stone is wonderful. "Wish I Didn't Miss You" takes the Curtis Mayfield sound and plants it firmly in the 21st century, particularly with the club remixes. This song deserves to be MASSIVE. Also, heard one of the remixes of "For My People" on the radio the other day and couldn't help dancing like that girl in the car commercial (you know which one I'm talking about).

Lisa "Left Eye" Lopez, RIP: HORRIBLE news. TLC were always a sentimental favorite; even though I don't have any of their albums, their singles were always on point. Plus, Left Eye's solo album was pretty remarkable. It's really a shame; she was barely a year older than me.

NME made Pap Roach frontman lose Dick: This is easily my favorite headline of the day.

The indestructible sandwich: I would only eat one of these things if I had an indestructible colon.

Eeek. Just to keep up the posting frenzy, click on the link to hear wanton abuse of the Pokemon license. Truly frightening.

More David Hasselhoff action: Ever wonder what David Hasselhoff's version of "Hooked On A Feeling" would sound like? How about the video; what's that all about? Click on the link and find out!

Madonna art condemmed:

Howson has also completed a number of nude Madonna sketches. One of the most detailed - a sketch depicting Madonna next to the head of John the Baptist - is being auctioned online.

Click HERE to place a bid.

Um, no thanks.

More Prodigy news: Links from the previously-blogged entry led me to this UTTERLY PRICELESS gem of academic stupidity. I wish I could get a government grant to inject mice with speed and play "Smack My Bitch Up" at full volume at them until their hearts stopped.

New Prodigy single title revealed: Allegedly, it's going to be called "Baby's Got A Temper". More worrying news lies in the idea that Liam and company have decided to put more emphasis on vocals this time around. Boys, boys, boys: you are at your best when you spin bootylicious chipmunk hardcore. Reinventing yourself as serious lyricists will put you on the fast track to Underworldesque levels of pomposity. Do not forget that the DANCE COMES FIRST.

(I should point out that none of my concerns will stop me from trying to get my hands on their newest release as soon as humanly possible.)

The Camel Toe Report: Okay. I know it's Easter and this is probably blasphemous and all, but I HAVE TO SHARE THIS LINK. There's nothing I can say that could make this site funnier. Just click (but not at work).

News flash: Joei has been accepted at Longy School of Music and Boston Conservatory. If anyone sees me out on the street corner offering myself to strangers for cash, well, baby needs tuition...

Best... picture... EVER: I defy anyone who clicks on this link to disagree.

"I'm just killing time": I tasked myself with doing some straightening around the condo this evening before Joei got back from her dress rehearsal, but I've grown weary of throwing away old piles of mail. I would much rather talk about music instead. Of course, since this is purely for procastination's sake, I don't have a band in mind to spark the old creative juices, so I have to resort to skimming the CD rack and seeing what grabs my fancy.

Let's see here... Odelay! by Beck? No, I refuse to talk about this album. I'm not going to change anyone's mind on it; it's one of those records that you either love or hate. Furthermore, people have discussed this album to death. People were so convinced of Beck's genius after this record came out that he had no choice but to disappear up his own ass in a self-defensive fit of ego-stroking. I'm not going to add to that train wreck, nosiree.

Moving on... I notice I Just Can't Help It by The English Beat. I bought this album solely for the song "Mirror In The Bathroom". Actually, I'm going to play that song now that I'm thinking about it. It's absolutely classic; all of the promise of ska wrapped up into one infectious, extremely danceable package. I was probably eight or nine when I first heard this song (thanks to an older brother who was discovering New Wave). It definitely lives in a special place in my heart; you can dole out equal blame to English Beat and John Coltrane for my later interest in the saxaphone. In fact, I'm sitting in front of the computer now with the goofiest smile on my face as I nod my head to the beat. I was about to decry the lack of songs like this on modern radio, but then I remembered No Doubt's "Hey Baby", undoubtedly one of the top ten singles of 2002 so far. It's good to remember why I initially twigged onto No Doubt when they first came out; after a period of slogging through the doldrums of proving they were, like, SERIOUS MUSICIANS, they seem to have remembered that the reason they picked up their instruments in the first place was because they liked to party. Nowadays, I'm finding it rare to find unapologetically fun songs on the radio, so hearing No Doubt return to their roots is captivating to me.

Moving on from English Beat, I'm going to stroke my ego a little bit and play a song recorded at the last Concordia Society concert where I had a solo. The song, "Trois Beaux Oiseaux du Paradis" by Maurice Ravel, is an absolutely gorgeous a capella number with oodles and oodles of lush harmonies that features a soprano soloist, but has little bits for an alto, tenor and BARITONE. I don't mean to sound egotistical, but MAN did I nail that baritone solo! Listening to things like this adds ammo to the little voice inside of me that keeps saying, "SCREW your day job, go all-out with the singing thing!" Then, I remember that we have bills to pay and sanity reasserts itself. At any rate, if Joei is successful, then I'll be able to live a life a relative leisure which will allow time to do more singing. YAY! (No pressure, honey.) Okay, I have to take this off before I break my arm patting myself on the back.

"Shake Dog Shake" by The Cure. I haven't heard this song in AGES. Man, it's just as brilliant as it was the first time I heard it. I remember that very well; I was 16 and had just grabbed a copy of the tape at a local record store. The only thing I knew about The Top was that its single was "The Caterpillar", so I was approaching this album with the expectation it was going to be a frothy, sunny romp. OH HOW WRONG I WAS. From the opening drum rool, my attention was ensared. I played that cassette five times straight through, marvelling at how disjointed the songs were. But, even as the differences leapt out at me, I couldn't imagine ten songs that fit together quite so well as the ten songs on this album. There was a good long period of time where I wasn't sure if my favorite Cure album was The Top or Pornography. The presence of "Siamese Twins" eventually tipped the scales for Pornography, but listening to the deranged guitar harmonics and pounding drums of this song makes me wonder if I made the correct decision...

Hmm, after ten o'clock. I need to go now. How funny; I'm certain this is the longest entry I've ever written to this blog and I didn't even know what I was going to say before I sat down. I'm sure tomorrow I'll have an editing frenzy fixing typos and fleshing out disjointed thoughts, but at the moment I'm thinking that that nothing gets the old fingers typing quite like vodka. (No Mom, I'm not an alcoholic. Stop worrying. Heh, it's not like you read this site, anyway.)

Leftfield split: Is there anyone left in the world who actually gives a damn about Leftfield?

Quickie update: Joei and I had a Seraphim Singers concert this past Sunday. It went extremely well; Joei got to perform her solo and did a stellar job at it. (The piece we were doing where I had a solo wasn't part of yesterday's program.) I've encouraged two friends from college to join the group, which excites me to no end.

Joei's living the whirlwind jet-set life; she jumped in the car this afternoon so that she could make an audition tomorrow morning at Manhattan School Of Music, then comes back for an opera rehearsal Tuesday night. The opera, a Lowell House Opera production of "Carmen" staged in modern times, goes up on Thursday (which reminds me; I need to get a ticket for the premiere).

I don't have anything big to say on the new music front. The new Boards Of Canada is brilliant, but I need to give it some time to sink in. (Expect a review at some point.) I also need to overhaul the design of this site, since huge chunks of it are out-of-date. So, that's gonna happen sometime this month, too.

Proud to be an American: Here's a tasty link from the BBC chronicling some of the stupid things Prince Phillip has said. This makes me feel a little better about Dubya. (Only a little, though.)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOHN JUSTEN. It is criminal that we've lost touch the way that we have. If you stumble across this page, EMAIL ME. I want to know what's going on with you, yo.

Tim is the man: That track by Tweet is the greatest song released this year that wasn't "Hey Baby".