READINGS

Observations while flipping through the latest issue of "Blender" (first in a continuing series for days on which I'm too tired, lazy or apathetic to organize any kind of coherent blog entry):

When did Ashlee Simpson get hot? Maybe it's the blond hair, the newly buffed physique, the decision to use underwear as business attire. I really don't care.

My iPod envy kicks in early (also to be the subject of future blogs).

Hey, page 8 and Ashlee's still hot. In red nylons/leggings and high heels. Heels, people!

And again on page 30.

Then, on page 32, Kelly Clarkson, who is certainly not hot. Cute, like your kid sister is cute, which is anti-hot unless you're a hillbilly, or from Meat Cove.

Rock God Keith Richards on page 50: "I didn't do this to get laid, but it's part of the job." The problem is, that place is never hiring.

And some Cancon with Thor.

Page 54. Ink wasted on Nick Carter.

Ashlee again, pages 108 through 117. I think now that it is the hair. Oh, and the breasts hanging out. Never forget the breasts. Even though Jessica is by far the prettier Simpson girl, and has the aesthetically more pleasing figure, she just isn't sexy. She's too plastic and too dumb. Ashlee isn't much better on either count, but she seems like more fun on a date. As in, I don't recall any public proclamations about preserving her virginity until marriage. Like anyone would believe her at this point anyway.

More Ashlee, from page 114: "I don't like to look like a whore, but it's nice to feel sexy." Umm, a little late on that "look like" thing.

Doesn't Kenny Chesney look like a younger, more beat up Bruce Willis? Although I don't remember any aspersions about Bruce's sexual preference. (Aside: Was anything in celebrity news the last year more disgusting than the news that Bruce was spotted snogging with Lindsay Lohan? I love Bruce, and Lindsay is special too, but this was just way too creepy, even for me.)

Stewieeeeeeee!!!!!

Fiona Apple is one of the few artists whose albums I continue to play from beginning to end without skipping a track. There are simply no weak moments on these discs, and even after all these years, some songs still feel like I'm hearing them for the first time, with all the rush of pleasure that brings. That, my friends, is genius.

Page 150 re Neil Diamond: another legend brought back to relevance by Rick Rubin. I can't wait for that new Tony Orlando and Dawn album.

Page 154: Are you guys telling me that after all she did to help you sell a few copies of this magazine to the Maxim/Stuff crowd, you couldn't give Ashlee a better review on her new disc? Have you no shame? And a guy wrote this! Is he blind? Gay? Credible?

And now for the most shocking thing in the magazine so far, at page 162: Bryan Adams is "the greatest rock singer of all time". Read that line again, think about it, and tell me how easy it would be to make a valid argument that he in fact is just that. But no one ever says it. Kudos to Jane Dark.

On the other hand, Adams redoes "When You're Gone" with Pamela Anderson in place of Sporty Spice. Now, Sporty has gone to her proper place as a footnote in music history. But that song was her greatest moment, and it's the one Adams song that I listen to again and again, just for Sporty's - I must admit it - sexy (at least this once) howl. Yes, Pam Anderson is a wonder of nature and vivid proof of better living through chemistry, but a singer? Have we learned nothing from the whole Ashlee Simpson experience?

Does anybody remember the last time you could honestly say that Chris Rock was funnier than Dave Chappelle? On the other hand, Rock was a kick-ass Oscar host.

I didn't mention this previously, but one of the trailers before "Good Night, and Good Luck" was for the Pierce Brosnan-Greg Kinnear starrer "The Matador". A future blog is reserved for Brosnan's mostly mediocre career, and Kinnear stole Rupert Everett's Oscar nomination just because he was straight playing gay while it seems many thought Everett's gay character was nothing special since he actually is gay (setting aside the tiny fact that Everett managed the near impossible - made a Julia Roberts film watchable). Anyway, "The Matador" looks amazing, and Blender agrees. Brosnan looks, well, skanky, and while my personal family-friendly rating for this blog prevents quoting the most shocking line referred to in the article, suffice it to say you will never again be able to watch a James Bond movie in quite the same frame of mind.

I so have to see "Office Space".

Yet again, someone who agrees that Vince Vaughn was the best part of "Mr. and Mrs. Smith". (Sure, I wrote second best, but no one should ever have to be stacked up against Angelina Jolie's looks. That just isn't fair.)

Love the ads at the back of the magazine. It's like those Frederick's of Hollywood and breast enlargement ads in the magazines of my childhood. You stop and look.

Oh, and I must get a Liberator. Although the girl in last month's ad was much nicer.

And even if Ricky Martin isn't gay, I still think he is gay. How's that for courting a lawsuit?