Just Touch My Cheek Before You Leave Me, Baby

I'm OK. You're OK.

Sometimes I really really miss them.

Only One Peach

It's been 9 years since Peaches' debut album Teaches of Peaches first penetrated America's ear drums. In those 9 years, Peaches has become an underground cult hero while still acheiving mainstream success, appearing on soundtracks for Mean Girls and Lost In Translation and in ads for The Gap.

Her fourth studio album, I Feel Cream, is a more cohesive blending and understanding of her dual roles than 2006's Impeach My Bush, and a return to the smoother, more seductive eletronic beats she utilized in 2003's Fatherfucker (arguably her finest album), still with clear signs of evolution.

This is Peaches' first time to commission outside producers on an album, a risk that certainly paid off. The result is sexy and seductive, nasty and classy, with a song for just about any occasion.

We Should Probably Address Chester French

Because starting real soon, the rest of 2009 will be spent listening to them. It will be unavoidable. Perhaps I'm jumping the gun, but I feel in my bones that I'm right. Their songs will soon play on every radio station in the country every hour on the hour. Drunk wenches will soon scream "IT'S MY SAWNG!" in every bar in the country (every hour on the hour). So we should probably get a word in with Chester French while we still can, because I have a feeling they won't be shutting up until their Time Square New Year's Eve performance.

So, here's the deal, Chester French: you're two talented and dreamy intellectual fucks who both know you're extremely smart and dreamy and talented, and can thus be as weird and obnoxious and esoteric as you want. I've seen your interviews. I know your kind. I've fallen for a few of you in my day. You're going to blow up the music scene real soon, craftily weaseling your way into the American lexicon, and I, Alpha, will be bopping along to every bit of it, because you're talented and dreamy and obnoxious and esoteric, and that is an unstoppable mix. So good for you. Enjoy your year. Call me.

Live From The Pen Fifteen Club

A few nights ago, this les-faux (from the Greek, meaning "fake lesbian") that I know texted me at two in the morning to tell me President Spears's "If You Seek Amy" so totally omg reminded her of me. I'm still not sure if this is a reference to the fact that everyone secretly wants to have sex with me (possibly), or that I'm just really elusive (not so much), or that the bar she was at should stop running $4 Jager shots on Tuesdays (b-i-n-g-o!).

So, um, in any event, Britney's latest and most controversial single (meh) now has a companion video. I could address the "controversy," but I'd really rather not. I like the song. It's silly and flirty and damn catchy, continuing this wonderful "kiss my ass" theme running through Brit's last few singles. And the video is in large part: fun-Britney dancing around and looking hot with a bunch of horny, strung out dancers in a large house (perhaps invoking a little Fiona for the dance pop set?). Towards the end, things shift a bit, and I suppose the whole point of it is to showcase, yet again, her duality as an American Sweetheart and a hardcore sex symbol (although the two have bled together after so long--there's really no duality anymore), generously sprinkled with bitterness over one or the other (you just can't tell which is which with her).

At the end of the day there's nothing wrong with any of it. Just keep doing what you do, babe. We support it. Although, why did you have to raid the Paramount Archives and steal the wig Stockard Channing wore in the "Sandra Dee" number from Grease?

Founding Fathers: Gia Carangi

This picture is captioned in her biography, Thing of Beauty, simply as "Stoned in New York."

"One day with the top down is better than a lifetime in a box!"

I'm okay ... I'm okay, right?!

Ladies, if I may, Baldy Bear's coming back to town ... I needs to vent, the best way I know how...:

Founding Fathers: Janis Joplin, Beautiful and Unconcerned at Tampa Central Booking

Don't Play with My Heart

Despite the recent release of his much anticipated record, Chinese Democracy, Axl Rose is MIA. With his record label and his bandmates having seen neither hide nor hair of him in the last two months, something smells a little rotten. But perhaps we confuse rotten with oh-so-sweet, as Hollywood Rag reports that Mr. Rose may be otherwise occupied with a slew of clandestine meetings taking place in order to set into motion a reunion of the original G n' R lineup.

Bathroom Ham Party

I'm OK. You're OK.

This seems to be the the only available clip from Blow Out, the tragically brief (only two seasons!!) Bravo series about Los Angeles hairdresser, loveable oaf, and mad scientist, Jonathon Antin. I wanted to post the incredible bit about the packaging of his custom showerheads in boxes full of rocks, or the bit about him "blessing" New York from his hotel balcony with a smattering of his own famous hair product, silky dirt, before a particularly stressful QVC appearance, but this will do. As Winter sets in and the World gets grey (and poorer by the minute), I find I need some Jonathon Product:

The Feeling Remains, Part II

Love in this Club

Mark Healy: bad boy with a heart of gold, master mechanic, wrestling enthusiast. Portrayed by the dearly departed Glenn Quinn. 

NeNe was only the beginning...

The A&P staff should really discuss creating an entirely new website devoted to NeNe of Real Housewives of Atlanta fame, but for now, her go-to gay, Dwight Eubanks, has his own reality show coming soon!!!! Take everything you love about J. Alexander from ANTM, add Belize from Angels in America, subtract what you didn't like from my ex-husband's first wife (yeah, that's just for me, but it holds), and hand it a pair of razor sharp scissors. I love and respect Able's love and respect for the NYC, but we best remember how downright astonishing it gets down South. Bless.