Sweet Songs of Youth

If this keeps up, I'll stop watching T.V. altogether

I’m starting to think that the current trend of has-been celebrities appearing in their own reality shows might just be a sign from God. And the message being?

“If you think YOU have problems, check out what became of the guy who played Chachi on Happy Days!”

I took a count; over HALF of these losers have been off the radar for at least 20 years. The other half haven’t been seen since before 9-11. If there’s one thing that’s blindingly apparent to me, it’s that remnants of your oh-so brief taste of fame can be worse than having never tasted it at all. Probably like having a publicized meth habit.

I think most of these trite cable-payment wasters are nothing more than desperate pleas for sex from people whose last straight-to-video flick bombed so hard it was studied by the Oppenhiemer group. Witness Flava Flav’s THIRD attempt to find a bride amongst the ghetto-booty chicas that populate the local “Shanay-nay’s Faboolous Nails”. It’s just one neverending catfight after another amid a pontoon boat full of fake boobies. Or howzabout this one, “Scott Baio is 46 & pregnant”. Right on the heels of “Scott Baio is 45 and single”. Scott Baio is also the centerfold for piss-poor husbandry and fatherhood for “Creeps to Avoid” weekly. I mean, think about this for a second…Who gives a shit about Scott Baio? When was the last time you can remember coming home and scanning the channels for “Charles in Charge”? I have caught snippets of this dreck because it’s on one of the MTV channels, and I can tell you firsthand: I can’t wait to see “Scott Baio is 47 and Rotting in the Fucking Grave”.

“Brett Micheals Rock of Love” Yet another musical once-was trying to grab an extra 15 seconds in the quickly-fading spotlight, and just like Flava of Love, there isn’t a biodegradable breast in sight. This show is ALSO on it’s second season…Which makes me wonder how the guy who wrote one of the songs I CONSISTANTLY scored with during high school could strike out so much in real life. Call me, Brett. I’ll show ‘ya how it’s done, son.

I remember when MTV first aired “Real World” and for the first season or so we thought it was CLEVER. And maybe, for a second there, it was. But here we are almost 12 years later, and if you ask me, this is a good example of what happens when you take a damn metaphor too far. Where the hell is Perry when I actually NEED one of his literary criticisms?

This wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t mention Britney Spears. I went to a newsstand last week, Brit’s mug graces the cover of no less than SEVEN magazines with titles like “Where will it end?” “Britney foresees her death” (apparently, she sees shares some similarities with Anna Nicole Smith) “Fallen Princess” (my personal favorite) and “Can she make it back? (in a nutshell, NO).

Now, before you all get yer knickers in a twist…COME ON!! Who didn’t see this coming? The freakin’ nanosecond she hooked up with Kevin Federline, it was a countdown to has-been town. Watch a few episodes of her reality show “Chaotic”, Kevin sees it too. There’s a couple of quickie moments where you can just see the wheels turning up there…He’s counting it out, seconds to dollars. Nobody else, from her family to her bodyguards liked this kid, they could all see the gravytrain getting ready to derail. And like Michael Jackson before her, this pop princess has just become both a punchline for MTV and a magnet for bad luck. I hear the secret service wants to talk to her for bombing so close to 9-11 at the 2007 VMA awards.

The Last Dance of Britney Spears

Jeez, I remember thinking she was sooo hot, and now we've seen so many pictures of her crotch it makes me want to vomit. It's too late to act like Paris Hilton, girlfriend. Your only hope now is to start acting like...I dunno, a mannequin, maybe. You never hear about one of THEM going into rehab.

Mushtaq was giving me a hard time about my musical influences last week. Say what you will about Frank Sinatra, you never saw him come crawling to network television when the Sands closed down & his supply of free booze was cut off.

I won’t be surprised if five years from now you can pull into McDonald’s and just order a Ritalin milkshake to go. It's just about the only thing missing from our fragmented cultural vortex these days. Maybe it's because I've stopped drinking paint thinner and snorting E-Z Cheeze, but this makes no fucking sense what so ever.