Britney Spears- Circus:
“There’s only two types of people in the world. The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe.”

So opens the title track on Britney Spears’ latest CD, Circus. Britney is clearly in the first category. And this is the album we’ve all been waiting for. The one that marks the start of her comeback. Wait, wasn’t her last album supposed to be her comeback? Well, forget about that because this time it’s for real. If you happened to take an hour out of your life to watch to her MTV documentary on Sunday night, you’d probably say she appears to be back on track. Then again, we’ve seen that before. But if Circus is any indication of Britney’s well-being, it’s safe to say the girl is back on her game.

Songs like “Circus” and “Kill the Lights” chronicle the tough times Britney’s had being in the public eye, but they’re not downers in the least bit. She even squeezes in a song about motherhood (wait, remember she’s a mom?) right at the end called “My Baby.” Let’s just hope she actually remembers that she has two babies. Circus is also loaded with songs I can see myself getting down to in the basement of my favorite bar. Clearly I’ve already done so with “Womanizer,” but “Leather and Lace” and “Mmm Papi” also have highly danceable beats.

Mr. Photographer? I think Britney’s finally ready for her close-up. Read More »

As usual, last night’s Video Music Awards blew.  The geniuses at MTV have succeded in turning what was once a borderline semi-entertaining awards show into a series of tedious advertisements between more advertisements.  Great Job!

But despite all the foolishness, the red carpet was chock full o’ eye-catching looks… some hot, some way not.  So, rather than making you search thru all those grocery-store-checkout-line-webzines for your VMA fashion fix, we have compiled the best of the best and the best of the worst for your viewing pleasure.

BTW Pink- You saying “Lemme Check My Flow” in a song has a way different connotation than when Eminem says it… and the thought makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

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So I’m one of those people who doesn’t feel guilty when I don’t give homeless people change. I can walk around with quarters jingling in every pocket, and they can follow me around salivating like Pavlov’s dog, and I’ll keep on talking or singing or counting squirrels without a second look. Now I’m not insensitive, I’ve just become de-sensitized. Even the girl with the bag pipes in the Public Garden and the guy with the banjo at Park Street have become nothing more than background music to whatever I happen to be thinking at the time.

Enter Status Quo.

Over the years I’ve learned I can’t dance. I can drink until I wake up in a toilet bowl, but I can’t even find rhythm there. When I first saw the ads for Randy Jackson Presents America’s Best Dance Crew on MTV, I put some T-Pain on iTunes, marked my calendar and waited to experience something as foreign as mud puddle mattress surfing.

And then I saw them. Status Quo. During the live casting episode, as Mario Lopez introduced the East Coast representatives, shots of Beacon Hill and Boston Common flashed across the screen. Six kids jumping and flipping off benches, and I knew those benches, and wait–I knew those kids. Read More »

In a dark, moderately dirtball Irish pub with adorable bartenders straight from Ireland, I am approached by a liquor promoter. He’s pretty good-looking, obviously a flirt because who else takes a job as a promoter, and so begins his attempt as he hands me a keychain:”Who do you get? Who do people always say you look like?”

I reply the truth, no one, because no one even thinks I look like myself after changing the hair. But the promoter has an opinion,

“Okay, so, you definitely don’t have some features she has, which is a good thing, but—”

Is he serious? I am intrigued by the obvious trap he is setting for himself. Why is it that dumb must always accompany pretty?

“—did you watch Blossom? I swear, you’re a post nose-job Blossom…. No, it’s a good thing!”

Was it really? I spent the rest of the evening staring at my nose in the mirror behind the bar and glaring at the promoter, who at the end of the evening thought he had a shot at seeing me at his ‘gig’ next weekend. Read More »