Tunesmith homosexual popular Elton John slid offstage in Australia recently, puked, later returned to the stage to say to the hearings everything on him and to oscillate the house for 45 minutes more. Although I am not no ventilator of “E.Jo,” desire that the new harvest of today of the musical talent would emulate his professionalism. To the talent, the week the last Paris Hilton let its own barf unexpected of onstage attack to end sudden its operation. That one is hospitality? Even though its system was short, I it doubt to the left the crowd that wished more!

'Tis the Season--'Tis!

The worst part of Christmas is the music, and Wham's "Last Christmas" is the worst. Again and again, George Michael sings "Last Christmas I gave you my heart / The very next day you gave it away / This year to save me from tears / I'll give it to someone special." Maybe it's because I used to ghost-write an etiquette column, but this deeply offends me. First of all, if you give a gift to someone, it's theirs--if the very next day they give it away, that's well within their rights. But George didn't give "you" anything--he's clutching his heart bitterly and trying to make himself feel better by making snotty jabs about how "special" you aren't. Ick. If I met a whiny creep like this and he gave me his heart, it'd take a lot less than a day for me to give it away. In fact, I'd return it!

No one would ever play this oldie but not-goodie if it weren't about Christmas--even "Everything She Wants" is better than this! But since it is about Christmas, we'll have to hear it in supermarkets and laundromats until the middle of January. Radio stations have radically altered their format for the season, and if you participate in this society, you will hear that Mariah Carey "All I Want for Christmas is You" record in the next three weeks, whether you want to or not. A Rosie O'Donnell Christmas album exists, and what I'm always thankful for this time of year is that the radio never, ever plays it, for some reason.

I heard "Last Christmas" last night in Nicky's Vietnamese sandwich shop on Second Street last night and, well, you can tell I was outraged. And then "Jingle Bell Rock" came on.

Help! "Help! My Pussy Is Literally on Fire" is Not on Fire!

Another blog DOA? Sheeit, I hope not!

JeanGenet Ramsey

When I first thought of my incredible name, JeanGenet Ramsey, there was nothing online with those words together. That's when I should have started a blog, so I could have become the very first to use it online, I mean, there's something to be said for that, isn't there? Anyway, I'm not the first now, some smart-ass even wrote a one-act play with it for a title. (Link.) I always thought the name might be best illustrated with a photo of a girl in a pageant costume with broad black and white stripes, plus an adorable little prison cap up top, at a jaunty angle. Even that's a lot of work for one joke--imagine stretching the conceit out into a play, of however few acts!