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A Fond Farewell Because I'm Dying
Alas, this Burn Unit will be my last. Having received an offer more appropriate to my skills, I'll now be moving full time to Working Mother magazine, where I'll contribute breast milk reviews in the same lazy, stupid asshole voice that Boston has ostensibly grown to love.
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This week, Us Weekly broke the not-so-shocking news that the Associated Press had already started to draft a Britney Spears obit. "I think one would agree that Britney seems at risk right now," said the AP's entertainment editor.
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Allegations have surfaced that several musical —types—including Mary J. Blige, 50 Cent and —Timbaland—have been shooting up human growth hormone (HGH). Perhaps this explains 50's rage problem, and why he looked so much like a finely polished burl slab on the cover of The Massacre. Perhaps it explains why Timbaland has been spotted in photos sporting huge, greasy pythons rippling from beneath his tank top. Maybe it explains why Mary J. Blige's new record is called Growing Pains.
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We all know that Axl Rose is an anagram of "oral sex" (if you didn't know that, I've just blown your mind). Many of us have heard that Britney Spears is an anagram of "Presbyterians," but who knows what significance that has. Being somebody who likes words, and who likes taking words apart into letters and then moving those letters around, I'm always unduly amused by anagrams. If you are not amused by anagrams, I suggest that you stop reading this column before you become even less amused than you already are.
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I'm still waiting for this fucking year to start, let alone this decade. I write a weekly rock music column, which means I listen to new music all the time, read pretty much every music news source, keep up on reviews and new releases, watch awards shows, etc. I can say with authority that nothing has happened this year. Nothing.
Well, Radiohead released In Rainbows online, which was exciting until you actually heard the damn thing.
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The Holiday Season is here again, and you know what that means: It's time for the music industry to chew up and regurgitate its extensive back catalog into our little peeping beaks! It's time for every band with at least one album and/or at least one hit single to crap out a useless compilation so they can pay down their label debt and score one last sweet holiday hit of horse! So, what's under the tree this year?
Spice Girls - Greatest Hits
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