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Europe Trip Update: St. Goar, Germany

It's 6:40 a.m. local time in St. Goar, Germany, along the Rhine River. Lots of castles and other cool shit. I forget what it is that Goar did, but apparently it isn't much. This is clearly just a pit stop between the drugs and sex in Amsterdam and the booze in Munich, in which we'll be hitting a beer garden this afternoon.

So what am I most happy about during this trip? That the Yankees have swept the A's and that Hakim Warrick is coming back for the Orangemen next year. I'm retarded, I know. There are no American sports fans in the group. I will have to spread the gospel of Steinbrenner before I leave.

I had an argument with a guy last night about whether it was Wednesday or Thursday night. That's pretty much our mindset right now. Tell us where to be and when to be there and how much the drinks are.

Upon arriving into town, we had dinner at the hotel, then to a wine tasting event down the street in a 16th century wine cellar (I think, could be 17th or 18th, but 16th sounds better). Then back to the only gig in town, the hotel bar. It was our group and two guys who worked there. There were still 20 of us pounding when they kicked us out around midnight. Early, I know. But time is all relavtive on this trip. I was on my fourth beer at the Heineken brewery in Amsterdam by 11 a.m. yesterday. Afterward, just before our 1 p.m. departure to Germany, a few of us grabbed a beer at Teasers, which is almost like Hooters, except the girls dance on the bar and are pretty much wearing thongs. I have some pictures from that experience that you might enjoy.

Well, looks like it's time to grab another so-so meal before going to a beer stein exhibit. Only there won't be drinking. Which is a downer, but the beer garden in Munich awaits.

Other things to look forward to: ride to the top of the Swiss Alps, gondola ride in Venice and a trip atop the Eiffel Tower in Paris. We also have an optional excursion to see the Moulin Rouge for 130 Euro, but I passed. Might dedicate that time to taking pictures instead. Or looking for French sluts.

Europe Trip Update: Amsterdam

Itś 8 a.m. in Amsterdam, having survived my first night in the Central Square area. Yesterday was quite a trip from London to Amsterdam. We started with a two-hour bus ride to Dover, then a 90-minute ferry ride to France, then a three-hour bus ride to Belgium, then a break and another 90-minute bus ride to Holland. It wasn as bad as it sounds.

The coach is rather nice, and so is the group. Thereś 41 of us, mostly from the Toronto area, only a few Americans and several from Asia and Australia. Had dinner last night with a 19-year-old from Iowa, an Aussie and a Brit. The latter two had never heard of Derek Jeter. I think I the second oldest, thereś a couple of attractive young chicks. The dudes seem OK to drink with. A lot of them are rather green, too.

Took a little booze cruise down the channel last night, which was quite scenic and gave the group a chance to mingle. Then it was off the one of the typical tourist bars, the Grasshopper, which has a coffee shop in its downstairs area. Those are the places with the pot, and several members of the group brought some back up. No one, that I know of, partook in the cityś other custom: banging hookers. The going rate is 50 Euro, from a qualified source. Not me. Some of those whores weren bad-looking, though.

Gotta run now to head into town and probably do the Heineken tour. Then weŕe off to St. Goar in Germany tonight.

Sorry for the boring-ass updates, but I have like 10 minutes. And I don think this thing is spitting out correct English, either through my fault or a setting on the computer.

Europe Trip Update: London

Today this site turns into a blog. I've always treated this space as a magazine column rather than a journal, but I wanted to get some thoughts down for my family and friends.

I've slept maybe eight hours in three nights. We leave soon, around 7 a.m., for Amsterdam, where I don't think sleep will be on the menu, either. Have met only a couple of people on my tour, but a bunch from other tours. Last night at the hotel pub, I could see how returning groups have bonded, and so I am excited about that.

Man, this place is expensive. Usually, leaving New York brings with it a respite from $5 beers, but not here. And it rained like a bastard last evening, relegating me to taking a three-block cab ride that cost $7. Met a girl from Youngstown, Ohio, who'd never heard of Bruce Springsteen's Youngstown, which is like being from Detroit and having never heard of Detroit Rock City by KISS or being from Boston and never having heard of This Place Sucks the Big One by The Paul Katcher Experience.

I have much deper thoughts about my trip so far. Th last few months -- few years, actually -- have ben quite profund, but my time and writing abilities are limited right now, so this quick note will have to do for now. Hope to have a post from the Netherlands.

Makin' Like the Griswolds. PK.com's European Vacation 2004

Big Ben. Parliament. I'm gonna see it all.

I leave today to be part of Contiki's European Magic group tour for 50 people aged 18 to 35. From now till I return on May 7, I'll check my e-mail as opportunities exist and maybe post here if I have something of interest to pass along. But I don't envision many major updates till I get back, when I'll publish a huge photo gallery to accompany tales about London, Amsterdam, Munich, Venice and Paris.

(Update: Actually, I have wanted to get a regular online mailbag going, and those should be easy to answer on the road. So if you have questions for me about this site, New York, sports, major life decisions like which beer to drink, or anything I've failed to cover previously, just shoot me an e-mail with "Mailbag" in the subject line.)

My friends are worried my mouth is gonna write traveler's checks my body can't cash, but I've been working hard to learn the languages of the countries in which I will be a guest. Some of the phrases I have mastered are:

England: Must all 12 of you blow smoke in my face at once?

Holland: Dat wat is u zegt dat ik zowel de zak van onkruid als rondborstige brunette voor $150 heb? (So what you are saying is that I have both the bag of weed and the busty brunette for $150?)

Germany: Dank für das Bier, ma'am. Kümmern Sie sich, um wenn ich ein Photo Ihrer enourmous Brüste mache? (Thanks for the beer, ma'am. Mind if I take a picture of your enormous breasts?)

Italy: Potete dirmi dove la pizza famosa di Ray's più vicina è individuata? (Can you tell me where the nearest Ray's Famous pizza is located?

France: En Amérique, nous roulons un bâton de de dessous deordorant nos bras ainsi parti couru par don't de poussins comme cela. (In America, we roll a stick of deodorant under our arms so chicks don't run away like that.)

Feel free to talk amongst yourselves in my often-ignored forum. And I guess this is a good time to empty out the tank of links:

Web Finds:

• The 50 Worst Artists in Music History — Blender ranks the rank. But really, wouldn't you have rather have had a career playing music for Goo Goo Dolls than writing for Blender?

• Flatulence Deodorizer — "Patients with intestinal gas conditions ... can go out to public places without fear of emitting embarrassing odors," says Dr. Rae Seitz M.D. (Link found on ApeChild.com)

• Heavy Metal Belly Dancers — Three chicks shake their stuff to Guns 'n' Roses, Metallica and more.

• JohnKerryIsADoucheBagButImVotingForHimAnyway.com — Really not that great of a site, but how 'bout that domain name?

• Quiz: Programming Language Inventor or Serial Killer? — I got only six out of 10, so I'm gonna be really cautious next time someone tells me he's a coder. (Thanks, Pee Wee)

• A Night on the Town With C.C. DeVille — Fans of Metal Sludge write in with reports of the Poison guitarist partyin' it up in L.A. in the style of Vince Neil — totally fucked up.

• Video: Hold our Own Boobs — A Saturday Night Live skit featuring Sarah Michelle Gellar pimping Hold Your Own Boobs magazine.

News:

• Cedric the Entertainer to Star in Back to School Remake — You don't see a lot of black dudes on diving teams, so I guess it'll vary from the original in at least that capacity.

• Misys Gives Pecker Head Job — My friend Larry shared this story with perhaps the greatest headline ever.

• Onion Taken Seriously, Film at 11 — A Wired feature on how the satirical publication is often believed as fact.

• That Old Feeling at 100 — TIME's Richard Corliss celebrates the 100th edition of his online columns, dealing mostly about pop culture from days gone by. Dare I say they're delightful?

• New York Times Obit: Estée Lauder — The cosmetics queen, who died Saturday at her home in Manhattan, was the only female among 20 Builders and Titans selected for the TIME 100 retrospective of the 20th century.

Sports:

• NFL Draft Winners and Losers — SI.com's Don Banks on the who made out (Matt Millen and the Lions) and who seemingly crapped out (Chiefs).

• Hardball Hoedown — Stuff reviews five new baseball video games. I can't even play mine till the Yanks straighten things out.

• Lawton Reports Theft of $117,000 — You know baseball salaries are out of whack when guys like the Twins outfielder are keeping so much bling-bling in their hotel rooms.

• Sports Stars Lost in Service — Inspired by the tragic loss of former Arizona Cardinals defensive back Pat Tillman, MSNBC's Joe Concha recounts other fallen heroes of the sporting world who gave their lives in the service.

• Women's Clothing for Yanks Fans — Show your support for Jeter, A-Rod and the rest of the guys who can't get a hit. And cover your breasts at the same time.

New York:

• Manhattan Waiter — A blog that takes your behind the scenes of the restaurant industry.

• Dodgeball Social — Works with your cell phone to let you know if any of your friends are within a 10-block radius of your current standing.

• New York Bloggers Event, May 3 — Looks like 12 panelists are going to share their expertise in blogging. Is this really that hard? Pick a template and start writing. And whenever possible, post pictures of hot women.

• 100 Years of Times Square — MSNBC's audio and visual experience dedicated to a century of one of the world's most famous gathering spots.

• NYCBP.com Booze Cruise Set for May 27 — Tickets go on sale today.

Meet Kid Rock Lookalike Ron Gilbert

I get a lot of interesting e-mail from people across the globe, none better than from the lookalikes that have found my site from my celebrity impersonators updates in April 2001 and June 2002. So it was with great pleasure finding — among a ton of spam suggesting that I have a small penis, bad credit and a want to work from home — a note from Ron Gilbert, who bares a striking resemblance to Kid Rock.

Here's what must be great about being a Kid Rock impersonator:

• It doesn't cost a lot of money. Wifebeaters go for, what, $5.99? You can walk right out of Wal-Mart and presto! — instant Kid Rock. Compare that to those Elvis impersonators, who must purchase lavish costumes, buy a lot of hair goop and, in at least one case, spend over $5,000 in plastic surgery to look like The King.

• No one will ask you to sing. Those opening bars of "Only God Knows Why" at the 2000 Grammys challenged, for most horrifying singing performance of all time, Axl Rose's surprise tag-team with Elton John on "Bohemian Rhapsody" at the 1992 Freddie Mercury tribute concert at Wembley Stadium. And I thought that was music's 56-game hitting streak, a mark never to be challenged.

• You get to hook up with the Pamela Anderson lookalikes. Sure as shit beats being a Bill Clinton impersonator and getting the same gigs as Hillary, Monica Lewinsky and Paula Jones. Yeesh.

• If someone asks you for the real lyrics to "Bawitdaba," just say, "Bawitdaba da dam da monkey loogie mama shake the booger ba wit da hooky." Who's to say you're wrong?

• You can entertain kids, because it's clear no one cares about Kid Rock's lyrics. I'm not saying the NFL was wrong to hire him for the Super Bowl halftime show, but did they not know or not care about stuff like this?

From "WCSR"

I'm on a private jet out of JFK, Sippin' the Beck's and feeling A-OK
Looked across the aisle and who did I see, Bill motherfuckin' Clinton sittin' next to me
We kicked it talked had a couple of laughs, The stewardess walked up and asked us for our autographs
I thought I was mackin' gave her two free shirts, Bill stuck five fingers up in her skirt
So, I stuck five and that made ten, Shit two roosters and only one hen
Billy winked at me, it was all too sweet, We tag teamed that freak at 30,000 feet

Like I've written before, I bet "Abe motherfuckin' Lincoln" never had anyone sing about double-teaming chicks with him. And if someone did, I bet he didn't get hired to perform in front of the largest entertainment audience of the year.

Other Web Finds:

• The 100 Greatest Movie Characters of All Time — Everyone's linking to it, so I might as well. What, no Ben Drewton of Hamburger... The Motion Picture? Next thing you're gonna tell me is that thee's no Randy Watson of Coming to America, June Khnockers from Malibu Express or Balbricker from Porky's.

• The 50 Worst Songs Ever — Everyone's linking to it ... Sorry, but if you think Five for Fighting's Superman is a worse song than Katrina and the Waves' Walking on Sunshine, we just can't been seen in public together.

• Sex Advice From ... Construction Workers — Nerve.com goes straight to the experts at laying pipe.

• Recap of The Rock on The Howard Stern Radio Program — Caught a bit of this on TV the other night. Some superfan spun the Wheel of Humiliation for the right to meet The Rock, and the WWE superstar broke a balloon filled with urine on his bare ass.

• 2004 Webby Awards Nominees — Remember when people gave a shit about website awards? I've told this story before, but one year a friend and I sipped Champagne on the roof of a Madison Avenue Armani store at a party to celebrate the announcement of the Webby nominees. Not even the winners, just the nominees. Man, how times have changed.

• Photos: Wet T-Shirt Contests — While trolling around Fotki.com for other users of the service, I came across these T&A pics. File an informal complaint with me if you're offended. I'll give it it's due consideration.

• The George W. Bush Presidential Library — Uncle Melon's satirical look at No. 43's resumé.

• Mark Cuban Bashes Donald Trump — On his super-successful weblog, now with comments enabled, the Dallas Mavericks owner takes shots at the New York real estate media whore.

Beat This Caption: Mets Fan

"Mets fan Joe McKocksmall celebrates Idiot Day 2004 at Shea Stadium. New York rewarded free admission to anyone who could fit five or more ballpark weiners in his mouth at one time. McKocksmall swallowed five — the entire starting infield, plus one batboy."

(To beat this caption, post a comment below.)

The Most Impressive Athletic Feat I Ever Saw

This week on the redesigned ESPN.com Page 2, Jeff Merron attempts to answer the question, "Which athletic feat is first?", presenting an argument for the 10 best, which includes Nadia Comaneci's fifth perfect 10, Maradona's most-famous legal goal and Michael Jordan's oft-replayed hand-switching scoop against the Lakers ("A spectacular move by Michael Jordan!" gushed Marv Albert.) Missing from Merron's list is the greatest feat I ever saw, and I don't have to think twice about giving it such praise.

On Thursday, Aug. 1, 1996, at the Atlanta summer Olympics, Michael Johnson set a world record in the 200 meters with a time of 19.32 seconds in the final. (Details and commentary.) That number may not mean much to you — it didn't to me then — but figure in the context:

• Johnson came to Atlanta having set a 200m record with 19.66 in the Olympic trials, besting Pietro Minnea's 200 mark of 19.72 that had stood for 17 years. Almost two decades had passed and world-class athletes had trimmed just 0.06 off the record. In his gold shoes, Johnson whacked 0.32 off his own record, 0.38 faster than any other human in history.

• Barely in the picture to the right, taken by Heinz Kluetmeier for Sports Illustrated, is second-place finisher Frankie Fredericks. His silver-medal time of 19.68 was the third-fastest ever run in the event.

• Johnson ran 0.124274238 miles in 0.00536666667 hours. That's 23.16 miles an hour. Compare that to brisk treadmill runs at 8, 9, even 10 mph. At 23.16 mph, you'd end up in the hospital.

• Johnson's record is not subject to hypothetical debates comparing eras, technological advancements, playing styles, free agency and competition. We'll be arguing the merits of Babe Ruth, Barry Bonds, Jerry Rice, Wayne Gretzky, Jim Brown, the 1960s Packers and Celtics and the 1990s Bulls forever. With Johnson, there is no debate. He blew away history. Period.

• It beats individual plays in many game situations, because who's to say a different athlete in the same unique position could not have achieved the same? Was Jordan's move the most athletic in NBA history? Probably not. Was Dr. J. or is Vince Carter capable of switching hands on a layup? Of course. Take nothing away from such moments, but they're not as pure in terms of one person owning a feat that is absolutely untouchable.

• Speed doesn't slump. Speed doesn't streak. Dale Long set an MLB mark in 1956 by hitting home runs in eight straight games. It wasn't matched until 1987 by Don Mattingly. Obviously, neither is among the greatest home run hitters ever.

My Other Top Feats:

• Secretariat Wins 1973 Belmont Stakes by 31 Lengths — Ranked only No. 7 on ESPN's list, this moment produced one of the most jaw-dropping sports photographs ever, that of jockey Ron Turcotte peering behind him to see if anyone else was even on the track. Secretariat's entry on Wikipedia.org reads, "On his way to a record time in that race (1:59 2/5), he achieved the unheard-of feat of running each quarter-mile segment fractionally faster than the one before it. The quarter-mile times were: 25 1/5, 24, 23 4/5, 23 2/5 and 23."

• Bob Beamon's 1968 long jump, Vince Carter's 2000 slam dunk contest, Rickey Henderson's 130 stolen bases in 1982, Bill Walton goes 21-22 in 1973 NCAA Tournament game, Mickey Mantle's reported 565-foot home run. Almost unfathomable acts of overwhelming athletic prowess.)

Overrated:

• Willie Mays' 1954 Catch: Happened to come in the World Series in a big spot in Game 1, but the varying distances at which Vic Wertz supposedly hit the ball clouds the legitimacy of how incredible a catch it was.

Other Sports Links:

• Dr. Z's Draft Memories — Paul Zimmerman recounts the biggest surprises, best strategists and that most amazing 1974 Steelers draft, in which they came away with four future Hall of Famers — Lynn Swann, Jack Lambert, John Stallworth and Mike Webster. (SI.com's NFL mock draft.)

• Obsessive Fans Track the National Pastime on the Web — Slate surveys the baseball blogs that hope to see plenty of action this summer.

• Race Hasn't Left the Ballpark — Longtime civil rights activist Richard Lapchick asserts that the way the public views Barry Bonds proves that "whites and African-Americans still do not look at an event or a person and see the same thing."

• Could Bonds Hit .400? — It may be a little early to project, but Bonds is hitting .514 on the season and hit .397 after the All-Star break during the past two seasons. He's slugging 1.378, meaning that walking him in every plate appearance this year would have been the best defense.

• Get Your Name on Yankee Stadium Marquee for Only $10 — At this cheap price, I'm gonna have to get my name up there some day. Also, check dates at Shea Stadium when kids can run the bases after games. It's not like the Mets give the infield much of a workout. (Links found on Manhattan User's Guide.)

Photos: Key West Vacation

First, a note about the photos in this gallery. You can purchase prints of any of them, with me getting a deserved cut of the reasonable fees (4x6, $0.19, 5x7, $0.95, 8x10 $1.99). Almost all were uploaded at 1600x1200 pixels, with Fotki optimizing them for more efficient web viewing. I don't plan to make a living doing this, but just be aware that if there's something you like in this album or future ones, purchasing a print is a snap.

OK, now onto the four-night trip to Key West. I love that place. The weather is perfect, the natives are friendly, you can relax or party to your desired degree at any time from sun up till 4 a.m. Here's how it breaks down:

My Additions to the Dictionary: A neckbreaker is the hot chick at the pool that has every guy turning his head when she walks around the deck. An Elmo is a naive goofball who turns into a tomato after Day 1 in the sun.

Garden of Eden: No one should be surprised that I at least had to check out the clothing-optional bar atop The Bull and The Whistle. During the ascent, I came across signs that read, "No Photography" and "No Sex on Premises." After poking my head in at 2 p.m. Friday and seeing one woman (the bartender), three clothed men and three other men sunning their hairy testicles, there was no danger of either for me. I wouldn't return, though I did have a few drinks at The Whistle a night later and surveyed the crowd going up. Just a few couples here and there. If I saw an Alyssa Milano lookalike climbing up there, I probably would have tripped over the stairs with my pants around my ankles.

Midget Pissers: No matter whether a men's room had only a couple of urinals or a bunch, a midget pisser was omnipresent. I don't know what those guys did before laws required them. Piss in a cup and pour it in the toilet? I have no idea. All I know is that every time I took a leak, I thought of midgets. So like 40 times in four nights.

Denny's' Declaration of Hospitality: It doesn't take a whole lot to laugh hysterically in Denny's at 3 a.m., but when you see a commitment to hospitality signed by the entire staff, the comedy meter is pretty much off the charts. Some random drunk dude sweet-talked his way into adding his John Hancock. Had to have been the highlight of his trip.

The Giant Margaritas: Some dude at the Radisson's pool bar, Splash, was on his second huge margarita when we left for dinner Sunday. He'd already won $100 from his buddies for finishing the first, which, according to staffers, held between 6-12 margaritas. Monday it was reported he was suffering through a Tequila Dave-like Category 5 hangover, but was $200 richer.

Scooters: It may be a little unsettling to pass a Coach and Banana Republic in Key West, but there's still nothing more relaxing than cruising down Duval Street on a rented scooter. Here's me looking like a tool on my No. 82 black-and-white "hog." Chances of me paying my $35 parking ticket are strictly 50-50 as of press time.

The Shrimp: Got a half-pound at The Half Shell and was in heaven. My friend and I each ordered a bucket as an entree at Billie's and thought a practical joke had been played on us. The portions, as we learned only after being served, were 20 oz. each, cooked. A pound and a friggin' quarter? I ate half and almost threw up. I don't even think a tag team of George Foreman and Chet from The Great Outdoors could have polished the thing off.

Kayaking: George Bellenger of Downwind Kayak Tours took us out in a small group to explore the Florida Keys backcountry. George will be happy to know that even though we came across a couple of small sharks, I managed to return my kayak unsoiled. Barely.

Hand Dryers: I hate hand dryers. Paper towels are just faster. The one at The Green Parrot must've been jet-propelled, 'cause the impact of the blast of air on my wet hands made a loud fart-like sound. Now I don't know if you chicks are aware, but nothing cracks up a room of guys more than a loud fake fart noise. My license says I'm 31, but I'm under no contract to act like it.

Martha's: After our concierge offered to call ahead to Martha's, a steak-and-seafood restaurant near the airport, I said, "Yeah, tell her two good-looking guys are coming." I'm thinking Martha's on the phone and would have her bevy of broads waiting for us. I forgot we were in Key West. The waiter and bus boy most definitely patronize businesses with rainbow flags in the window. The food and the service was great, though.

And That Indian Chick: Not long after I bellied up to the bar at The Green Parrot on Sunday, some chick comes up and asks, "Do you want to see my boobs?" Um, sure. So she pulls them out, then refutes my claim that I'm not, as she was certain, a local navy guy. Anyway, not being a big fan of VD, I let her fall all over herself for like five minutes before being tossed out for being too drunk. And then getting dragged out a second time after trying to return.

PK.com on Vacation in Key West

Till Tuesday you'll have to get your Yankees/Alyssa Milano/wacky photo fix somewhere else. A former coworker and I have a business meeting with a ton of beers and peel 'n' eat shrimp down in Key West, Fla., located at latitude: whatever, longitude: whatever.

(Pictured is me with two Syracuse buddies on spring break there 10 years ago at Rum Runners. In preparation for the end of an all-you-can-drink special, we each carried back from the bar as much as we could hold, setting our large group up nicely for an extended happy hour — we had something like 80 full cups at one point. Then we'd head to Fat Tuesday's and watch our SU ringers set — and I'm quoting the emcee here — "a new spring break record!" in just about every drinking contest event against other schools.)

During my absence, you have plenty of time to get through all of my interview with Harpoontang's Tequila Dave (below). And don't forget to meet us at American Trash on Thursday, April 22 at 7 p.m. for a rockin' happy hour with Dave. All PK.com readers in NYC are under strict orders to attend.

Full Disclosure: Harpoontang's Tequila Dave

A few weeks ago, I reviewed the latest CD release from Harpoontang, and from the moment I heard Tell Your Husband, See What I Care, I knew longtime PK.com supporter and NYC resident Tequila Dave (pictured, right, with me) would make the perfect interview subject. I've since boozed with Dave on a couple of occasions, and I simply couldn't resist having him share his tales of changing a flat tire in St. Maarten with "Category 5" hangover, watching Nebraska football games with headphones and clipboard, as well as an idea for a Rockin' Happy Hour TV show, how to eradicate terrorists from their holes and assorted tales of drug- and alcohol-fueled debauchery and general mayhem.

This is the longest post ever published on PK.com and quite simply the best. If you don't get through it, that's your problem. But at least read Question No. 6 — trust me. And before we start, an announcement:

WE'RE GOING DRINKING WITH TEQUILA DAVE! Everyone is invited to happy hour at American Trash (First Ave. bet. 76 and 77 Streets) Thursday, April 22 at 7 p.m., where Dave will answer follow-up questions, sign autographs, make you laugh your fucking head off and drink more goddamn tequila than a team of illegal Mexican construction workers who just got off a 12-hour shift. E-mail me to let me know you're coming.

1. What is Harpoontang, and what's its history and current mission?
Originally Harpoontang was my mine and my brother's band. Back in '82 we were working in a studio called Mega Music on the East Side of Manhattan. It was a privately owned studio, so Fluff and me got plenty of time to write tunes and track. At that point I was playing drums and guitar, Fluff was singing and playing bass. It was pretty bad, but we were having fun. In April of '83 we met up with Spunky in the Scrap Bar down on MacDougal St. A few months later we met Noodles at The Be Bop Café. That’s how the original Harpoontang came together (and that's the very, very short declassified version of how we met, because there was some very heavy illegal activity involved in both meetings). In the big picture we were going to be ROCK STARS. Fuck that, we were ROCK STARS! We drank like Rock Stars, we fucked chicks like Rock Stars, we did drugs better than Rock Stars, and we had some ass-kicking tunes. And, at that time, a manager with money.

Unfortunately, due to drug addiction, incarceration and death, Harpoontang had a hard time getting were we wanted to be. I'd get out of drug rehab, Noodles would go inside for six months. He’d get out, Spunk goes in and I’m back in rehab. Then Fluff dies. It was pretty much an ugly circle of abuse that lasted ohhhhhhhhhhh ... two decades. I'm not going to get into wives right now 'cause that will just put me over the top — even though I get along with my two living ones. When Noodles was released in '99 I thought we could all get straight and try one more time, so I came up with the ingenious plan of going to Southeast Asia to get our chops back. BIG MISTAKE, very BIG MISTAKE. That was by far the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life. I’m not sorry we went, I'm just sorry in general. So when we came back I knew it was over, I knew our dreams of Rock Stardom were cooked. However, it was brought to my attention one night at American Trash (Harpoontang's favorite Drinking Establishment) by a very big-boobied woman that we should hire a new Harpoontang to replace us — like passing on the torch. I was like, "Who the fuck is gonna wanna do that?" But then it hit me — we're too old and bitter to be doing this, we needed younger, better looking guys. So, goddamn it, we went and found some. And motherfucker, they'll kick your ass, just like us. I'd have it no other way.

Now as far as the current mission, I'm going to continue to produce more Harpoontang music whether people like it or not. I'm not here to make friends man. I'm here to crank out my fucking tunes and annoy people. Now I understand "the music" at this time isn't really bringing in the big bucks we need to survive in Manhattan and keep the ladies happy, so naturally we had to get back into pharmaceuticals. That's all I'll say about that. We also have a very lucrative business keeping the fine citizens of Yorkville safe from crime and hooliganism. I detest hooliganism and tomfoolery so I take that end of our business very seriously, as does Noodles, who really does most of the enforcing.

2. What were your goals when you launched TequilaDave.com, and how's it going so far?
My major goal when I started up the site was to warn the women whom I was stalking "in a friendly kinda way" a better idea of who I am. I wanted Lizzie Grubman, Susan McGinnis and the Olsen Twins to know I wasn't some freak. I’m a fun guy and totally harmless. People like me. I just want to know if I have a shot. Then some drunk in the bar said to me one morning, "You guys have so many fucked up stories, you should put them on the Internet and sell them." I was like, "We don't need to sell the fucking stories, dumbass, we got the pharmaceutical division now." Then I put on the music, tequila reviews and the cooking and the rest is history. The site's getting hits, and I'm getting plenty of interesting feedback. And, just like I figured, some people get it, some people don't.

3. A night of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll is a sure-fire formula for a woeful next morning. Describe what you call a "Category 5 Hangover" and tell us about a time you suffered through one.
A Category 5 — that's bad man!!! In brief, I describe hangovers like a hurricane. I don't name them or anything, I just rate them 1 to 5. Five being the worst. My entire life is a Category 1 or 2, so lets just go straight to the top and hit a 5. A Category 5 hangover is so, so bad, NOTHING will stay in your system. You can't eat, you can't drink. You can't even open your fucking eyes. If you drink four ounces of water just to get your mouth wet, you'll barf up 16 ounces, wondering, "Where the fuck is all that coming from.?" Then comes the bile. Hmmmmmmm, now you're barfing a bitter, yellow fluid that just stays with ya all morning long. At this point you usually start shivering.

Most of my Category 5s take place here in Manhattan, where I can crash in my bed and close all the blinds. But during the summer I go Saint Maarten, and down there there's no escape from the elements. I've had some doozies down there, baby. One that comes to mind is when I was one my way to the America's Cup 12 Meter Regatta. A very physical day indeed for me. The night before I was hanging the The Greenhouse at Bobby's Marina for the Twofer Tuesday special. I drank a fifth of tequila myself and woke up the next day with a MAJOR Category 5 — almost a 6. But I was determined to race the 12 meters. I was going to be on Stars & Stripes that day, so I got my shorts on and barfed all the way to the car — finding it with a flat. I was like, "FUCK!!!" I almost started to cry. But motherfucker, I got out the spare and started changing that tire. About a minute into it, I'm on all fours on a burning driveway, sweating to death with a Category 5, dry-heaving in 90-degree heat. I thought my eyes were going to explode. I wanted to pull them out of my head with a spoon and toss them in a glass of ice water. Unfortunately, I didn't have a glass of ice water or spoon. If I had a gun, I may have shot myself. Anyway, a gardener came by and took me back to my room. I never raced Stars & Stripes. However, I emerged from my room two days later — ready to do it all over again.

4. What are your thoughts on online music sharing? Do you think the music industry benefited at all from the Napster-Kazaa phenomenons, or do you think they'll always look at the 2000-03 period as a dark one?
Very, very tricky question. It's deeper than most think. But since the music industry labels really live off of publishing as their main source of income, I don't think it was as dark for them as everyone thinks. Believe me, they get paid first, end of story. I say, share the fucking music you assholes!

5. Tell us about your idea for a Tequila Dave Rockin' Happy Hour television show.
Well, for about the last five years I've been developing my Rockin' Happy Hour show. I think it's a great idea and now's the time to do it. Basically, I would be the host. Legendary Tequila Dave with the beautiful, yet incorrigible, Tequila Girl as my ass-kicking co-hostess. Harpoontang would, naturally, be the house band and play our timeless classics. Many of my NYC street friends would stop by, too — like Vinnie "Chum" Tommisino and Captain Salty Wounds of the Killarney Tug Boat Company. I would also interview local artists, celebs, as well as NYC nobodies who are just plain street freaks — and YOU would get to take an inside look at the Harpoontang Organization. How exciting is that?

There would be all kinds of fun segments like my favorite drinking game: YOU WHORE, YOU DID THAT? and BET WITH YOUR HEART, where I bet you I know more about your girlfriend than you do. This one at times gets violent. I also do a cooking segment: Getting Cooked With Tequila Dave and The Tequila Dave Home Shopping Network. Now what I need is someone who's got the balls to help produce it. Unfortunately the pharmaceutical division can't cover that nut at this time.

6. As a lifelong New Yorker, rock legend and abuser of untold mind-altering substances, it makes perfect sense that you're a Category 5 Nebraska football fan. What's your routine for watching their games on television, and tell us about some road trips you've made to the Midwest to root on the 'Huskers.
Ya know, Paul, the Midwest has always been very lucky part of the country for me. I've always considered the girls of the Big XII the finest ass in all of college football. From Lincoln to Boulder, Ames to Austin, no one in the NCAA fucks as good as this group. Sure, the girls of the Pac-10 come close, but the Big XII babes rule. Many years ago I remember being in Lincoln and was invited to an off-campus student party. I was 26 at the time and thought to myself, "This is gonna suck." When I got there, it was A FAT ASS FESTIVAL. Babes, and I mean young ones with pigtails in cheerleader outfits and no panties, blasting shots getting wild, just getting CRAZY. Next thing I know I got myself a cheerleader on the porch of this house somewhere outside Lincoln telling she wants me to take her in the tail section. I was like, "Do you even know who I am?" I can't believe I didn't go to college. What the fuck was I thinking?

That's a good story, and I got a lot of those. On the other hand I remember being in Boulder on Nov. 28. 1997, when we lost, 24-21, and was pelted with oranges from drunken Colorado students. These cocksuckers were whipping them at my friend and me, and it really fucking hurt. I got nailed in the head twice. My friend was like, "We gotta get outta here." I was like, "Not before I knock one of these motherfuckers out!" Best part was, after the orange incident, my friend and me nailed two sophomores in our hotel room that night. I told both of them, "I can live with the loss, kitten, but you're taking this one for those fucking oranges!"

As far as a routine for game day, this is where it gets a bit weird. First thing you need to know, NO ONE will watch a game with me. When I wake up, I check the weather. Once I know the weather conditions, I can work on my game plan. Yes, I said MY game plan. Pre-Bill Callahan, I knew what I was going to do rain or shine. I had it all on my little clipboard. Now things are going to be different. Anyway, then I go over the depth chart at least five times. Once I know who I want starting, I'd email Tom Osborne and/or Frank Solich to make sure they were in the loop. Naturally, they'd never reply. I just assumed after all these years they were too busy. Two hours before the game I make a huge Italian hero and try to relax. I go over my personal playbook and see if there's anything I missed. I still have time to e-mail Osborne and/or Solich, and now Callahan so I'm cool. About 15 minutes before the game I get pretty nervous and I start stretching out, 'cause the last thing I need is to pull a hamstring before the game. On offense I put on my headphones and pretty much coach the game. I pace the living room back and forth screaming at the TV with my clipboard, wondering when the guys from Bellevue are going to burst through the door and take me away. I get very Osborne-ish however. Stay cool, keep an eye on the clock, keep chewing the gum. I've been watching Nebraska Football so long no one can believe I can see the formation and call the play. It's like they're really taking my advice. On defense I get into a rush position and pretty much spy the quarterback. I do a lot of screaming on defense. When I finally met Osborne, I couldn't even speak. I just stood there like a dumbass. I'd give my left ball to get that moment back. I got some questions for him.

7. What part of your arrest record are you proudest of?
Another good one. I'm pretty sure — actually I'm positive — I'm the only person in ROCK HISTORY arrested for stealing a cow. Ya know, back in the old days they would have hanged me for this one. I was in Florida many, many years ago on a mushroom-picking trip and, for some strange reason, I decided to steal myself a cow. I thought if Harpoontang owned our own cow, we could have mushrooms all the time. So there I am walking this cow down the Bee Line Highway at 4 a.m. I must say, I am kind of proud of that one. I mean look, anyone can get busted for assault or a drug charge. For the record, I'm not allowed in Florida anymore, not even for an Orange Bowl National Championship Game.

8. Which musicians would achieve a perfect score on your Rock Star Aptitude Test?
Four that come to mind are Ace Frehley, Ron Wood, Keith Richards and ME. Personally, if you can't pass my RSAT, you got no business being in ROCK.

9. What's the longest bender you've ever been on?
Wow, this one's tough, cause I theatrically could say 20 years or so, but in real pansy-ass terms, I'd say six months of just drugging, drinking and fucking was my longest bender. I believe that was the 1989 Harpoontang Costa Rica-Suriname Tour. And if I remember correctly, we were held hostage a week at one point during that tour, and didn't even realize it. I thought we were in a crackhouse hanging out. Then this guy says to me, you can go, you're free. I was like, "What? Give me another fucking hit asshole." Today, at 40, my benders are pretty tame in comparison.

10. What advice would you give to the Bush Administration in terms of weeding out terrorists in the Middle East?
Well if anyone over there in the White House replied to my e-mails, I would have told them exactly what to do. A matter of fact, I was in TAO one night picking up married women and Barbara Bush was there (not the old lady, the drunken kid) and just as I was about to tell her what to tell her old man, some gigantic dickhead tossed me on the floor and put his foot on my neck. I'm assuming it was one of Laura's goons. Anyway, lucky I like her. I believe I could've ended this thing in Iraq with no death or destruction (I mean for us) if only the United States was using Tequila Dave’s GOOP GUN and GOOP BOMBS. Expandable foam is the weapon of the future, people. If only we could goop the villains and hold them down like flies on fly paper until some nice boy from Georgia could identify them. Then, if it’s a bad guy, he can blow his fucking head off right there. And if it's a good guy, he can use Tequila Dave's Solution Gun to dissolve the goop and release him into the general public for goodness and civility. Ya see, there is a way out.

11. What are some of your favorite memories killing brain cells at American Trash, the Upper East Side biker bar?
Favorite memories of TRASH. If I answer this one wrong, I could find myself in a dumpster on Arthur Avenue with no kidneys, so I'm going safe with this one. I guess one of my favorite memories was the I Gotta Bang Her listening party. That was a fucked up night. A matter of fact, I was so fucked up, I don’t even remember it. All I know is for weeks people were walking up to me saying, "That was the greatest party ever — ever." I guess the best memories of TRASH are gone and buried. Wait a minute, there is this one story that comes to mind. One night Joetown and me picked up a lovely young bachelorette just days before her wedding. We penetrated her and naturally got her home before the groom called. But you wouldn't want to hear about that.

12. Are you still offering free CDs of The Day After You?
I will give out Harpoontang CDs — fill out this form to receive yours — until I save every last one of you motherfuckers. I will not allow another generation of America's youth to be lost and confused on CRAP. I'm 40 years old and probably going to die soon, there's no fucking way I'm dying before WE — that's you and me, take back what's rightfully ours — ROCK 'n' FUCKING ROLL.

Paul's Recap: That was incredible. I hope you readers are half as satisfied as the cheerleader who Dave met on that University of Nebraska porch. I'm sure she looks back at that experience as one of the greatest in her life. And think about how excited new 'Huskers coach Bill Callahan is about receiving e-mails from this guy on a weekly basis.

Now that you have been introduced to the world of Harpoontang, it's time for your full indoctrination. You are under strict orders to perform the following duties:

1. Visit TequilaDave.com. Download the music, view the photos, learn the true meaning of rock 'n' roll.

2. WE'RE GOING DRINKING WITH TEQUILA DAVE! Everyone is invited to happy hour at American Trash (First Ave. bet. 76 and 77 Streets) Thursday, April 22 at 7 p.m., where Dave will answer follow-up questions, sign autographs, make you laugh your fucking head off and drink more goddamn tequila than a team of illegal Mexican construction workers who just got off a 12-hour shift. E-mail me to let me know you're coming.

Look at What ESPN Did to My Friend Mike

I don't know what kind of bet my buddy Mike Philbrick (center) lost over at ESPN.com, but when I logged onto Page 2 the other day to see what kind of anti-Yankee rhetoric they were spewing, there he was, looking like an extra from Jamie Kennedy's Malibu's Most Wanted, which I think grossed about 30 bucks domestically (and his mother saw it twice).

Mike got the choice gig of playing "Street Eye for the White Guy," undergoing a street-balla makeover to coincide with the launch of an urban basketball video game. His newfound buddies Trikz and Big Al adorned him in the latest too-big sweats and too-big shirts, which cost too-big money to look like a tool. Thank god Mike is married, 'cause it's kinda all over now from the chick standpoint. Except maybe in the barrio.

Unfortunately, weather prohibited the new Mike from testing his skillz on the streets of Elizabeth, N.J., and for some reason ESPN.com ran the column without that crucial element, instead of — oh, I don't know — sending him back out there the next day, maybe. I guess they had to get it out of the way to clear editorial space for Bill Simmons to make his 5,000th Godfather reference.

Mike and I go way back. Well, back to 1999, when I supervised 10 producers of FOX Sports Net regional websites. Mike was our New England man, and I was the guy who stood on my desk, so everyone in their cubicles could see me, and barked out orders like, "Wilt Chamberlain just died. Let's get pictures of all the women he banged!" and "Staff meeting at the Village Idiot. The chick who serves topless, with Band-Aids on her nipples, gets off at 8 p.m.!" The inflatable Dilbert cubicle door helped lighten the mood, too. I swear I had one, and imagine the sadness in the newsroom on my last day when I was rolling on the floor, forcing the air out of it. (I was, of course, not sad at all. This being 1999, a 55% percent raise was waiting for me somewhere else.)

If only I'd thought of sending one of the guys out for an XXXL wardrobe, maybe the total monthly traffic of the sites would have been higher than what PK.com gets in a day. But it's great to see the former staffers doing well. Mark Feinsand is the Yankees.com site editor. Eric Wilbur is blogging for Boston.com. Other guys on the FOXSports.com "regionals" staff are producing and writing for SI.com and AP MegaSports. Former general staffers like Rob Peterson and Randy Kim are at NBA.com, Darren Rovell, then just an intern, is one of the best known sports-business writers. Phil Coffey is doing that ice thing at NHL.com. Others have landed at MLB.com, AOL and parts known and unknown around the globe. Clearly those Village Idiot happy hours inspired a great deal of success.

Other Sports Links:

• Our Resilient Pastime — George Will opines in The Washington Post that Bud Selig has been baseball's greatest commissioner. Tough to argue when attendance and revenue is at an all-time high. (Thanks, Art)

• The MLB Misery Index — ESPN.com's Jim Caple ranks all 30 teams based on a 60-point system that measures two types of fan misery — despair (produced by losing seasons) and pain (brought on by agonizing ends to winning seasons). The Bombers barely crack the radar. Which is why when people ask, "How can you have fun rooting for the Yankees?" I say, "very easily."

• Still Waiting for a Championship — A Page 2 list of the 10 greatest current pro athletes, with a minimum of 10 full seasons, who haven't won a championship. Just think, Roger Clemens would be on the list if he wasn't smart enough to leave the Red Sox.

• Mark Cuban Prank Called by Spurs Fans — The Mavericks owner blogs about his cell phone number ending up in the wrong hands. About the annoying voicemails left, Cuban says, "It only takes me a second to delete them, but I cant get past it for some reason. Maybe its because Spurs fans are just irritating and rude at all times."

• If Bonds Breaks HR Record, Aaron Doesn't Plan to Be There — Atlanta resident Hank Aaron says he has no interest in flying around the country to follow Barry Bonds in his quest for home run No. 756, should he challenge the mark in either 2005 or 2006.

• Madden NFL 2005 Screens — Some shots of how the most popular sports video game, with an August 2004 release date, looks. Mark me down for bedtimes no earlier than 4 a.m. throughout August.

Beat This Caption: Kick to the Nuts

"As baseball's popularity continues to grow in the Far East, local residents have registered for courses that teach them of the history of the game in America. Here, professor Aaroniku Boon Kim reenacts Bucky Dent's famous 1978 home run from a Red Sox fan's perspective."

(To beat this caption, post a comment below.)

Three TV Shows Adult Males Can No Longer Watch

When Catherine Bach (born March 1, 1954) portrayed the lovely fashion pioneer Daisy Duke on The Dukes of Hazzard, she was 24 years old. It was perfectly natural for men of any age to think impure thoughts of an evening with Ms. Duke. You can still do it today while watching re-runs. No so with the three shows I detail below, each of which featured a teen gal who was of similar age to me. As an adolescent, I would dream about taking these girls on a Karate Kid-like date to Golf 'n' Stuff. But now, after the B movies and FHM photoshoots and those glorious indecent pictures on Google Images Search, watching those re-runs is just creepy, considering the girls' ages at the time. Let's review:

CHARLES IN CHARGE
Too-Young Actress: Nicole Eggert as Jamie Powell
Birth Date: Jan. 13, 1972
Her Show Debut: 1987
The Skinny: Probably the most attractive too-young actress of all time. There was no debate about whether she would grow up hot. She was hot. I didn't envision her dating high school boys or even college guys. More like Wall Street types with an affinity for such unlawful acts as insider trading, coke dealing and dating 15-year-olds. Off the screen — presumably when of age — she was romantically linked to the show's star, Scott Baio, reducing the number of women who've never been in the sack with Chachi to three.
Best Work Since: Sugar Ray's CD cover of Lemonade and Brownies | Stuff Photoshoot | And the kicker ... the 1992 flick Blown Away, when she was naked all over the place as a 20-year-old and had sex on screen with both Corey Haim and Corey Feldman. Kill me! Kill me! Kill me!

WHO'S THE BOSS
Too-Young Actress Alyssa Milano as Samantha Micelli
Birth Date: Dec. 19, 1972
Her Show Debut: 1984
The Skinny: I was only 11 at the time, so I don't think I thought of Alyssa as anything more than someone I'd really like to play video games with. As opposed to now, when she's someone I'd really like to make home videos with. They made her a tomboy on the show — someone had to play the role of male child, as Danny Pintauro certainly couldn't — but there was no doubt she would overcome that Teen Steam disaster and turn into a legitimate sexpot.
Best Work Since: Stuff Photoshoot | Another Stuff Photoshoot | FHM Photoshoot. And the kicker ... take your pick: Embrace of the Vampire, Poison Ivy 2, those paparazzi topless beach pics. Let's see Judith Light top that. (On second thought, let's not.)

SAVED BY THE BELL
Too-Young Actress Tiffany Amber Thiessen as Kelly Kapowski
Birth Date: Jan. 23, 1974
Her Show Debut: 1989
The Skinny: Have you ever met a Tiffany or an Amber who wasn't hot? What a combo. I wonder if she would've turned out as well if her parents had named her Gertrude. Anyway, I would have never told a Polish joke in front of Ms. Kapowski. OK, maybe something about a Polish sausage. Remember Kelly's evolution from perky but not-quite-filled-out high school girl on Saved By the Bell to 19-year-old sex kitten on Saved By the Bell: The College Years? It happened to coincide with my college years and I can assure you all my housemates remember. We sure as shit didn't tune in for Zach.
Best Work Since: FHM Photoshoot | And the kicker ... those see-thru pics that came out around the dawn of the Internet and helped make it the invaluable information, commerce and T&A tool that it is today.

And for comment fodder, here are some more TV daughters you guys — though not necessarily me — may have been enamored with when you were both teens. (I stress both. I don't want to hear stories from 40-year-olds who are still watching One Day at a Time.) Valerie Bertinelli, Christina Applegate, Justine Bateman, Lisa Welchel, Jennie Garth, etc. As for you chicks, post your shit on Scott Baio, but make it quick.

Photos: White Sox 7, Yankees 3

If this keep up, I'm going to request that George M. Steinbrenner III ban me from Yankee Stadium.

Saturday's game was so boring for Yankees fans that I almost wished it was Game 1 of the 2003 ALCS, when I saw the Bombers lose to the Red Sox. Or Saturday, Sept. 6, 2003, when I also saw the Yanks get drubbed, 11-0, by the same team that hasn't won a World Series since 1918. Or July 4, 2003, when I saw the Yankees give up seven (seven!) home runs in a loss to the same god-damn unlovable losers from Boston. Thank god for Aaron Boone and that little home run he hit, capping off my favorite sports victory ever.

Clearly, I should avoid games against any team with a Sox in its name. Too bad I already have tickets to the April 23 and 24 games between Boston and New York at The House That Ruth Built. (You know, that guy whom the Red Sox traded the Yankees for roughly the cash equivalent of Alex Rodriguez's per-game wage. Um, 26 World Series championships ago.)

Anyway, I've got a bunch of photos from Saturday's affair, though I can't say they're too dissimilar to other baseball photos I've taken over the years.

Oh, and if you haven't seen the video of Steinbrenner blubbering during a pregame interview as fans cheered "Thank you, George!" on Opening Day, it's a must-see. (Those of you in Boston may be unfamiliar with these types of tears. They are different from your cries of "Waaaaaah!" every time the Yankees sign a player. I must've missed the part where the Red Sox developed through their minor league system Pedro, Manny, Schilling, Foulke, Ortiz, Damon, Mueller, Millar, Reese, etc.)

The Boss has done all he can to win in 2004. Now it's the players' turns, and hopefully us fans can help inspire them to reach their true destiny: World Series title No. 27.

Happy 78th Birthday to Hugh Hefner

If ever there was proof that having seven girlfriends increases life expectancy, look no further than Hugh Marston Hefner (bio), born 78 years ago Friday in Chicago. A day after the Howard Stern Radio Show was dropped by Clear Channel in the wake of FCC pressure, Mr. Hefner will celebrate another calendar year of survival long after being a main target in a culture war against impurity.

While Hefner's record is not perfect — absences of Alyssa Milano and Britney Spears photoshoots are to Playboy what World Series rings are to Barry Bonds — Hefner won his war. So, too, it shall be with Howard Stern. The pent-up Chicken Littles who see the demise of society as rooted in fake tits and flatulence will reflect on, decades from now, the bloody struggles of intolerance we've yet to be introduced to. And they may find their time could have been better spent.

Hugh Hefner Links:

• PaulKatcher.com's Greatest Men Ever — Just ahead of Wilt Chamberlain. Just behind Rudy Giuliani.

• PaulKatcher.com: Why I No Longer Subscribe to Playboy — I've never been to the Far East and definitely don't want to go anywhere near Chyna — let alone twice! And look, this month's issue of Playboy features Pam Anderson's ninth pictorial. Who could care less at this point? Get me Jennifer Garner!

• Brilliant Careers: Hugh Hefner — Salon's 1999 feature on "the 20th century's indefatigable swinger."

• What I've Learned: Hugh Hefner — In Esquire, the publisher writes, "When I'm alone, masturbation isn't bad. But I don't spend a lot of time alone." Good thing for his bank account a lot of guys do.

Other News Links:

• Horizon-Italy Label Releases Great White's Burning House of Love — The band's website urges fans to not purchase an insensitive, unauthorized product that plays off the tragic fire at a Rhode Island club.

• Former Anchor's Naked Pictures Back on Net — A judge ruled that a ban on publication of the infamous wet t-shirt photos of former TV news anchor Catherine Bosley participating in a wet t-shirt contest restrained free speech.

• How Google Is Revolutionizing the Ad Game — Fortune examines Google's AdWords program, which was highly successful at the start in part because it was sponsorship disguised as content. But what will happen now that almost everyone has caught on?

• Porn Rock Changes Name to Eroticka — The band fronted by Pink Snow, whom I interviewed last October, undergoes a moniker makeover. (See Jan. 4, 2004 item.) Thankfully, they're still playing music dressed only in whipped cream. On a related note, the next NYC Mondo Porno party is April 30. I'll be out of town, so let me know how it goes.

How the World Takes Care of 'Business'

Have you ever wondered about what kind of throne the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire sat on? I don't mean from where he ruled the entire Middle East, northern Africa and southeast Europe. I mean where he moved his bowels. Well, I have. And so has Bob Cromwell, webmaster of Toilets of the World, a photographic journal of the dumping grounds he's encountered.

(Before you accuse me of scouring the net for ancient toilets, be aware Bob's site was a Yahoo! Pick of the Day for April 5.)

Bob has spent a great deal of time in the former Soviet Union, northern Africa, eastern Europe and western Asia and, let me tell you, it's not just porn that best when made in the U.S.A. Some of these exhibits are downright hideous, from the seatless crapper in Greece's Akti Hotel (cancel your reservations now) to the Egyptian floor-mounted squatter that comes complete with a hose — and it ain't for watering daisies.

The Internet is great for many things. The aforementioned porn being the best, but also for helping us learn about the world from the comfort of our own homes, where we are free to pop a squat without catching any diseases.

Other Web Finds:

• Awful Plastic Surgery — A blog dedicated to celebrities who went under the knife and paid the price — twice.

• Dead of Alive? — A site that tracks the breathing status of famous people. Perfect for you death pool participants. Guess whether or not the following are dead or alive: Al Sharpton's chances of getting elected for anything anywhere; FOX execs' hard-ons for a potential Red Sox-Cubs World Series; St. John's basketball. (Link found on Manhattan's User's Guide)

• Pam Anderson's Car Wash Commercial — The former lover of Bret Michaels, Tommy Lee, Kid Rock and all sorts of clean penises washes a car with her body. Click the "Sirius Satellite Radio Commercial" link under "Publicité." (Link found on Book of Joe)

• Political Friendster — A Stanford University project that connects Washington D.C. pols with their nationwide bedfellows.

• The Star Jones Swimsuit Issue — We're gonna need an Atkins book stat!

Unleash Your Inner Rock Star at Arlene's Grocery

Just when I thought every karaoke event would eventually be ruined by dopey, drunken girls thinking they look cute by screwing up lyrics from the Grease soundtrack, along comes Punk Rock/Heavy Metal Karaoke, a no-cover, weekly open-mic extravaganza held Monday nights at Arlene's Grocery (95 Stanton Street) in the hipster haven known as Manhattan's Lower East Side.

Rather than sit through this week's UConn-Georgia Tech snooze-a-thon national championship, I headed downtown at the invitation of the night's host, KISSNATION guitarist Ruby Rinekso, whom I interviewed last year about entertaining NYC crowds in clown paint and spandex. One-by-one, Ruby invited people to the stage to rock out to whatever they wanted — White Stripes, Jane's Addiction, Pearl Jam, Pantera, etc. — backed with great skill and energy by ZO2, a band that also includes members of KISSNATION. And that's the uniqueness of Alrene's' event — you front a band of professional musicians, not a stereo system. In that sense, they're a step above Britney Spears.

Not to be overlooked as an important ingredient of the genuinely fun night was the way the audience performed and responded to others. Lyrics were handed out, but singers hardly needed them. While there were plenty of mock rock-star antics, the wannabes weren't up there to prove that they're even worse comedians than singers. They put in a great effort and the audience matched their rock 'n' roll passion.

Ruby and Z02 were filling in for the usual host and house band, whose song list is available online. It includes KISS, The Ramones, Metallica and Led Zeppelin, so I'm looking forward to making my stage debut at the next event.

Also, don't miss Rock Candy's presentation of BITCH: A Ladies' Tribute to the Hottest Band in the Land, featuring KISSNATION. April 21 at Don Hill's. See you there.

Other New York Links:

• 50 Most Loathsome New Yorkers — New York Press releases their second annual list. Congratulations to 50 Cent, i-Pod owners, Bud Selig, James Lipton and this year's NO. 1 most loathsome neighbor, Rudy Giuliani.

• Bidding Wars Return to New York Real Estate — The average selling price in February 2004 was $820,000, about 40 percent higher than last year. Right on.

• A Day With 311 Operators — The New York Post spends a day with people who field general municipal concerns from New York citizens, including the guy who called about five turkeys crossing the road. I guess they were trying to get to the other side.

• Stern: Oprah Talks Dirtier — Howard Stern reportedly "pleaded on the air with his station's general manager to let him play a tape of Winfrey and her guests discussing an erotic activity known as 'tossing the salad.'" Never heard of it.

The Year's First College Hoops Preseason Top 25

Congratulations to the Connecticut Huskies for becoming he second straight Big East team to win the men's basketball national championship (See Bill Simmons' tic-toc of the game). But last night's victory was so last year, so props to ESPN.com's Andy Katz for coming out with the first 2004-05 preseason top 25.

Like all good ACC ass-kissers on the ESPN payroll, Katz ranks five of the conference's teams in the top 8 (Duke 2, Georgia Tech 3, North Carolina 6, Wake Forest 7, Maryland 8), but his pick to win it all is Kansas from the Big 12. It's a little like picking the Eagles to win the Super Bowl, but whatever. After losing Emeka Okafor, Taliek Brown and possibly Ben Gordon, UConn drops to No. 10, just behind a certain orange-clad team from Central New York that cut down the nets just 52 weeks ago. Syracuse's ranking, however, is contingent upon Hakim Warrick staying for his senior season and junior Billy Edelin returning to the squad after missing the entire second half of this year with "personal problems" that have been kept well under wraps. Neither has confided in me their plans.

Among the biggest expected risers from this year's rankings are No. 4 Wisconsin, No. 11 Alabama and No. 15 Notre Dame. None of those schools, typically known more for their football programs, is among Ivan Maisel's college football preseason top 25. The only team to rank in the top 10 in both? Maryland at No. 8 in hoops and No. 9 in football. Texas (21, 6) is the only other school to rank in the top 25 in both sports.

Among the hoops teams expected to drop significantly are: Oklahoma State at 19, Texas at 21, St. Joseph's at 22 and Kentucky at 23. That's two of this year's No. 1 seeds not expected to do better than a 6-seed next year. Pittsburgh is out completely.

Other things to look out for next year:

• Can someone please take Mike Krzyzewski to task for being an embarrassing, raving lunatic? Imagine if Joe Torre acted like that.

• Will North Carolina be the first team to lose 10 games and be ranked among the top 10? With so many people having picked them to go to the Final Four this year, anything is possible.

• Will the team scheduled to play Stanford in the second round of the Big Dance have to suit up, or will it just get a bye?

Other Sports Links:

• Jerry Seinfeld Guests on WFAN in New York — A RealAudio clip of "Jerry From Queens" joining Steve Somers for about 15 minutes in the studio. Seinfeld has a beef with the part of the Mike & The Mad Dog jingle that goes, "They're talking sports, going at it as hard as they can." Funny stuff.

• ESPN's MLB 'Expert' Picks — Four out of 17 experts pick the Yankees to win the World Series. Think that so few would do so if their house was riding on it? Of course not. Jim Caple has neither the Yankees nor the Red Sox even making the playoffs. The consensus picks for major awards are Alex Rodriguez and Albert Pujols as MVPs, and Curt Schilling and Kerry Wood as Cy Young winners. Four different Yankees got at least one MVP endorsement (A-Rod, Giambi, Sheffield, Jeter) and two different Yanks were picked for Cy Young (Vasquez, Rivera).

• The Decline and Fall of ESPN's Franchise — Slate's Matt Feeney on how SportsCenter anchors haven't been the same since Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann paired. I thought that whole Dream Job show was embarrassing. A bunch of nervous guys in suits trying to sound hip and getting ripped by a ... Redskins linebacker? C'mon.

• Madden and Jetpacking — A Community Divided — A column on the controversial Madden 2004 maneuver that renders wide receivers nearly unstoppable. It's like giving Randy Moss a pogo stick and velcro gloves.

Head 2 Head: TV's Greatest Head of Household

It's been a long time since I initiated a meaningless pop-culture debate. Today I'd like to know who you consider TV's greatest head of household. The two finalists are:

Phillip Drummond, played by Conrad Bain
Pros: Yeah, he was a champion of racial harmony, but what really counts is his money — Fuck You Money. Unlike a certain real-life New York real estate mogul, Drummond never walked around with a ferret on his head. Kids who grow up in such a privileged NYC environment typically wind up blowing a lot of money, doing drugs, getting arrested and dabbling in porn. Not so with Arnold, Willis and Kimberly. You know, like on the show.
Cons: He overachieved to get Maggie McKinney, but considering his 9-inch wallet and the dork kid she brought with her, he could have done better. God knows why there weren't more strippers running around the joint. What's the point of having all that money if you're not gonna spend it correctly? And I don't know how the Gooch managed to be a pain in Arnold's ass for so long. If you can afford a full-time limo driver, you can afford to break an 10-year-old's kneecaps.
• Diff'rent Strokes Online
• Jump the Shark: Diff'rent Strokes

George Jefferson, played by Sherman Helmsley
Pros: Was a champion boxer in the Navy, and being able to kick someone's ass is a vital skill when your wife is as ugly as Weezy. While not quite as loaded as Drummond, Jefferson did well for himself by overcoming such obstacles as living next to Archie Bunker and running a dry cleaning business in New York without a single Asian employee. And even though he took a lot of shit from Florence, he was still the one writing the checks, not cashing them for cleaning the toilet. (Especially after Weezy. Jesus.) Huge ups for the strut, too.
Cons: You mean besides Weezy? Well, his pad was a little small for a guy with a live-in maid. But other than that, not much. And I guess he wasn't a great tipper. A door slam in the face doesn't buy much on the street.
• Is Sherman Helmsley a Rip-Off Artist?
• Jump the Shark: The Jeffersons

The Worst Head of Household: Bonnie Franklin as Ann Romano, of course.

Final Day as National Champs

Tonight either Georgia Tech or Connecticut will wrest from Syracuse the title as Division I men's basketball champions. It's been a great year at the top. Here's a pic just received of me on Jim Boeheim court following a victory over UConn earlier in the season.

Review: Liz Phair at Roseland Ballroom

On the way in, they were handing out free condoms and pamphlets titled "50 Things You Should Know About STDs." The show opened with "Blowjob Queen" and ended with "Hot White Cum." And I downed plenty of beers in the middle. Nope, I wasn't at the Adult Video News Awards in Las Vegas. It was Liz Phair in concert, right here in New York City.

I'm not the biggest Liz Phair fan in the world — I'm just not familiar enough with her stuff — but those who are are steadfast in their belief that "the old stuff" is so much better. Kinda the way 10th graders feel about O-Town. So they cringed with embarrassment when Ms. Phair the MILF played "Extraordinary" and "Why Can't I" off her latest self-titled album, but had no problem singing along to "Fuck and Run" in front of total strangers.

Someone remind me again why 2 Live Crew ran into so much trouble with their lyrics? Oh, that's right, they were a group of black guys and not attractive, blonde females.

The show ended up being one of the great values in New York City. After a week in which ticketmaster.com was selling Madonna and Van Halen lower-level rear tickets — not even on the floor — for $165 and $105, respectively, ducats to the Liz Phair show could be had for only $15 outside Roseland Ballroom. Beers inside were only $5, another great deal. So for the same price as getting into MSG to see Madonna, you could have scored a ticket to this show and drank 30 beers to see someone who's every bit of a slut. Or you could have drank only 15 beers and brought along five gay guys to match the Material Girl experience.

In Five Words or Less: Money Well Spent

Liz Phair Links:

• Liz Phair's Letter to The New York Times — Liz has her say after Meghan O'Rourke writes in a Times review of her latest album that "[Phair] has committed an embarrassing form of career suicide."

• 10 Burning Questions With Liz Phair — In an interview with Eric Neel of ESPN.com's Page 3, Phair says a great rock song "has to do with breaking rules," while pop music is "more like comfort food." Not sure I totally agree. While popular, "Back in Black" and "Baba O'Reilly" are great rock tunes that don't exactly shake the foundation of society.

• LizPhair.com — Capitol Records' official site. Includes a forum where fans are sharing their thoughts on Saturday night's NYC show.

• Liz Phair Images — A simple Google Images search brings up tons of photos for you to do whatever you wanna do with tons of photos of Liz Phair. Ain't my business. I wonder if her son uses this as his computer wallpaper. She's attractive and all, but nowhere near my all-time hot list. Not that it's really relevant to her music, but neither is posing in unbuttoned jeans while grabbing a tit and holding a phallic symbol between one's legs.

• Sex Advice From Liz Phair — I've linked to this Nerve.com guest spot before. I can't get into sex-advice columns, though. Figure it out for yourselves, people! Or go rent a porno or something. It's just like real life.

• Why I Should Marry Liz Phair — More like Why I Should Leave the House and Meet Women in Real Life.

Review: NASCAR 3D: The IMAX Experience

Even though NASCAR is about as popular in New York as the clap, I couldn't resist seeing the sport's 3D IMAX movie experience in my Lincoln Center neighborhood. Stock car racing's main selling points, after all, are its audio and visual experiences. It sure as hell ain't the fashion sense of its fans.

I didn't know whether or not the movie was going to be worth $12, but immediately after donning the 3D glasses I was sure of one thing: I was gonna throw up. Everything seemed so blurry and loud, I felt like I was at a Doors concert, circa 1970. But my sensorium readjusted, and the only chunks that ended up in my buddy's lap were a few misguided Goobers.

NASCAR 3D: The IMAX Experience is sponsored by AOL for Broadband and, in true AOL fashion, the company produced a product that's reduced to the least-common denominator. In this case, the brain-dead. It's essentially a racing version of Ken Burns' 1994 masterpiece documentary Baseball, only 4% as long and 4% as engaging. When addressing the tragic death of Dale Earnhardt, whose fatal crash occurred on the final turn of the final lap of the 2001 Daytona 500, narrator Keifer Sutherland told us it changed NASCAR racing forever. But he didn't tell us what changed or why it changed. Just as you'd expect from AOL, the McDonald's Happy Meal of content.

Technically, the movie was sensational. As it traced racing's roots from Junior Johnson to Richard Petty to Tony Stewart, the images were sharp, the audio was crisp and the 3D experience was legit. You could almost reach out and grab the fans' mullets, smell their armpits and hand their kids a comb.

Critics have come down on the movie for essentially being a 40-minute NASCAR press release. Well, what did they expect? Of course they weren't going to point out how this business phenomenon barely cracks the radar in the Northeast's urban areas. Of course they weren't going to address why so many fans hate Jeff Gordon. And of course all the tight camera shots of fans included an abundance of attractive females while all the wide shots were almost 100% males and skanks.

If you go in thinking it's gonna be a thought-provoking cinematic masterpiece, you might as well skip NASCAR 3D: The IMAX Experience. If you wanna see a loose car tire flying at you or hear the roar of 40+ cars zooming past you at 200 mph, this one's worth checking out.

In Five Words or Less: Typical AOL - Good, Not Great

Other NASCAR 3D: The IMAX Experience Links:

• NASCAR 3D - The IMAX Experience — The movie's official site.

• Metacritic Reviews — Media nationwide give it a 55 out of 100. The New York Daily News, interestingly enough, give its highest rating of 88/100. The New York Times says, "Those seeking a serious sociological examination of the role of stock car racing in late capitalist America will probably want to search elsewhere, but audiences looking for a kick will find one — almost literally — in Mr. Wincer's work. "

• IMDB.com User Comments — The public chimes in and, of course, they love it. Then again, these same people consider Red Lobster a decent place to eat at.

Meet the New Girl in My Life

For years I refused to get a pet. I can hardly take care of myself, I told people. But when I met Rosie (pictured) at a friend's house — a house that couldn't afford to take on another responsibility — I gave in. I thought I'd be doing her a favor, but it's really turned out quite the opposite.

I've had Rosie for only a couple of weeks, but I see we're gonna get along fine. When I watch SportsCenter, she sits right beside me, and her ears pique every time a mention is made of a Yankees home run (which has happened five times in two games; on pace for 405 this season). So far, she hasn't run out of the room when I've played guitar, and I barely need an alarm clock anymore, as Rosie manages to nuzzle me awake at 7:45 a.m. each morning. It's really cute.

I have yet to introduce Rosie to Hamburger... The Motion Picture, White Castle cheeseburgers or Madden video football, but that'll come in due time. Right now we're kinda feeling each other out. I'm wondering why she loves sleeping under the couch instead of on her kitty bed, and she's probably puzzled as to why every food delivery guy in the neighborhood knows me by name. No matter. She's a city girl, for sure. She's independent and curious, even if it means not always following the rules and being a little nosy. I'll take the good with the bad, and I'll take my Rosie any day.

Here are more pictures of my cute kitty.