Oh Yes, Collective Soul!

Great weekend. Amazing weekend.

Tonight will be the only night of sleep this week, between the show at The Bamboo Room tomorrow night, Dada on Thursday, and what's sure to be another bang-up weekend. I have found that, despite the constant exhaustion, the only way I can effectively fall asleep without laying there staring at the ceiling for two hours worrying about what to wear every day for the rest of my life, the Flesh-Eating Bacteria disease, The Project for a New American Century, and Maury Povich's career, is to play the starting theme from The Golden Girls over and over and over in my head. Unfortunately, last night this lead to a dream involving a guy who looked like Pat Morita trying to casually hatchet my head to eat my brain for a snack. So, I need a new lullaby.

So far I'm leaning towards the theme from Perfect Strangers or maybe Full House. I wonder why most TV theme songs always had some kind of reference to "making it" in them? Mary Tyler Moore, Perfect Strangers, Laverne and Shirley - I guess people love that whole "us against the world" thing. Oh well, I'll try one of those out and see if it leads to nice dreams. Dreams where I'm in a kitchen with Donny Osmond and he's giving me The Aunt Jemima Treatment.

Stay tuned for The Freakin' Hott's "Us Against the World" Tour in 2015. We'll be opening up for the Lindsay Lohan Farewell Tour.

Maggie

The Double Cusack Whammy

Oh, John Cusack. Let's forget for a moment that you now look like you've always just woken up from a nap, and let's focus on my other issue with you.

Do you think that nobody notices that 99% of the movies that you've done seem to have your sister, Joan, in them as well? Do you strong-arm the casting person into putting your sister into every single movie you're in so she can have enough work to keep her health insurance through SAG? And what the holy heck is wrong with her speech? She talks like she's got a live fish in her mouth. And while we're on that, has anyone else noticed that Drew Barrymore also seems to suffer from the same unfortunate speech impediment? I bet people who work face to face with her have to wear a welding mask for hygienic purposes. Go-go-gadget-spit-shield!

And while we're on that particular subject, there was never one single episode of Inspector Gadget where they actually showed Dr. Claw's face. I know everyone thinks they saw it, or knew some kid who swore that he saw it, but it never happened, so MOVE ON.

On a totally unrelated note, I did have a dream last night that Mindy Cohn was my roommate. She made totally boss snickerdoodles and let me brush her hair. I will give a quarter to the first person who emails me the names of not only the bakery on The Facts of Life, but the 80's novelty store on the show as well. And no using Google to cheat. I already know the answer, because I'm better than you, so dig it up in your brain like I did. Email is thefreakinhott@yahoo.com. And make it count.

Maggie

UNSTOPPABLE

Okay - maybe not unstoppable - but at least somewhat difficult to maneuver around in close quarters.

Fresh from our rain-soaked performance at the Velvet Revolver show last night - and by "fresh" I mean exhausted, pasty, and cold-sweatin' ugly - The Freakin' Hott is gearing up once again for a rock'em, sock'em, check-your-jock'em show THIS FRIDAY, MAY 27TH at Brogue's in downtown Lake Worth. We'll be getting the crowd good and tingly for Legends of Rodeo, so get there by 10PM or you'll risk looking "uncool". You should probably take up smoking too. All the cool kids are doing it. You wanna be cool don't you? Chicken?

On an unrelated note, if they don't stop playing that new Gwen Stefani "Hollaback Girl" song on the radio, I'm going to find the cutest kitten I can find and rub its fur the wrong way. I'm not joking. I'll do it. A 35 year old woman singing a song about a cheerleading war is wrong on so many levels I don't even know where to start. So you people better do whatever you have to do to help make this stop. Don't some of you people have relatives in the record and radio business? Because the gas station cashier up the street from our house (who has a pink and purple yin-yang tattoo ON HIS FACE) says that his aunt is the vice president of Capitol Records. That tidbit is totally unrelated as well, but noteworthy nonetheless. So if the guy who works the graveyard shift at a local gas station who also has a pink and purple yin-yang tattoo ON HIS FACE has those kinds of connections, surely those of you who do not have pink and purple yin-yang tattoos ON YOUR FACE must be related to Tommy Mottola or Simon Cowell - I don't know - maybe you blew Glen Ballard twenty years ago. Either way, your help is required.

And don't think for a minute that we actually believe that the guy who works the graveyard shift at our local gas station who also has a pink and purple yin-yang tattoo ON HIS FACE is related to the vice president of Capitol Records. Now if he had said Dreamworks Records, or maybe Interscope, I would have believed him. You flew too close to the sun, son. You flew...too...close.

Ho's Before Bro's,

Maggie & Aaron
TFH Enterprises, IN YO' FACE

Velvety Smooth?!

First, the good news: Aaron just won $129 from Fox 29 and had his name scroll across the screen during Everybody Loves Raymond.

Second, the REALLY good news: The Freakin' Hott is opening the show for Hoobastank and Velvet Revolver at The Sound Advice Amphitheater in West Palm Beach this Wednesday, May 25th. Tickets are available at www.ticketmaster.com.

I can't tell you people enough, we're not kidding. If we were kidding, we would say we were opening for The Bay City Rollers.

And you thought I'd end up being a waitress at Denny's, Mrs. 10th Grade Guidance Counselor. Up yours!

Miss Mags

I Have A Dream

Actually, I should say that I HAD a dream. Last night, that is. I had a dream that The Freakin' Hott was competing in a battle of the bands at Madison Square Garden, and that the main band we were up against was Rasputina. I realize that this makes no sense, mostly because in the dream I felt really threatened by Rasputina. I could see if it were Sepultura or Blue Suede, or even Eddie Rabbit, but Rasputina? The dreaming mind works in mysterious ways.

You know I hate to gossip, which is why I do it all the time, but anyone who is a fan of crusty-scab-lipped celebrities should really check out this week's Star Magazine. Katie Holmes has the herp - apparently the herp of the century. Funny she didn't have the herp until she started "dating" Tom Cruise. We're not talking about one little cold sore here, people. She looks like she put her upper lip through a meat grinder, which is coincidentally Tom's nickname around the French Quarter. You didn't hear that from me - the corpse of L. Ron Hubbard tells all.

The air conditioning in this house is just not cutting it with this near-summer heat. All of the cats are melted all over the place like a feline version of The Persistence of Memory. It's all I can do to concentrate on Episode 5 of season 2 of Magnum PI without sweating through my Monday afternoon-evening gown and feather boa, not to mention my mascara is smearing to oblivion. And you think YOU'VE got problems?

Maggie

The Girl's a Timebomb

It surely must be Friday the 13th, because I've wanted to jam a pitchfork into every motherhumper that's crossed my path today. Here is a list of my grievances:

1. I hate your SUV. Get rid of it.

2. I do not find it fascinating that your sister's husband likes donuts but doesn't like bagels, nor do I find it necessary to spend 10 minutes staring at you with my mouth open while you try to figure out why. Shut up.

3. I believe the word you're looking for is "supposedly", not "supposably". Supposably is not a word, you detritus festival.

4. "What goes around, comes around" is not a factual statement, no matter how badly you want it to be so. Stop interjecting it into every conversation. Here's an example, you tool: Donald Trump is a toilet-faced trouser snake who would gladly bulldoze an orphanage if he thought he could build some nouveau-riche vomit palace condos in its place. He also has a hot, young wife, a ga-billion dollars, the admiration of most of Americans, and probably a personal ball-washer. When's the trainload full of crap gonna pull into his station? Never.

5. The fact that anytime that baked beans are consumed in a group setting, I have to wait for the inevitable idiot of the group to start singing that "beans, beans, the magical fruit" song and then try to restrain myself from flipping the table over and running over his face with a Garden Weasel.

6. Tony Danza has had the same haircut for thirty years, and I can't take one more second of it. Who the hell is even willing to give a man a feathered haircut anymore? I blame the Freemasons, the Bilderburg Group, the Rockefellers, and Super-Cuts.

7. No. I will NOT calm down. Stop asking.

Don't forget to head out to see us with Truckstop Coffee at The Red Lion in Boynton tonight, or I'll take out the Garden Weasel again.

Madge

Make Mine a Yam

An Open Letter to The Faux-Hipster Dork Who Keeps Feeling The Need to Talk to Me Every Time I Walk Into Barnes & Noble:

For the last time, I do not have cable. Stop asking me if I watch Adult Swim and then rolling your eyes and acting like I'm a freak because I don't. Even if I had cable, I would not watch Adult Swim, if for no reason other than to spite you. You are the reason that old folks like me weep for the future of humanity. So you can just sling your hemp messenger bag over the shoulder of your "vintage-look" baseball t-shirt from American Eagle Outfitters and jump on the first totally gnarly snowboard back to Gen-Y hell. And take your sew-on Yellowcard patch with you, you prissy hog anus.

I feel so much better now. On to business!

The Freakin' Hott will be at The Red Lion in Boynton Beach this Friday, the 13th, with Truckstop Coffee and an out-of-town band called The Sweet Kisses. Show starts at 10pm, unless I can't find anything to wear, in which case the show will start at 2am. No cover. Bring any food items that either have the image, or the shape, of any of the members of The Freakin' Hott and get a free piggyback ride from Bandito. Pears don't count, smart ass.

Then.....

Saturday the 14th (which is also a fine film parody, you should check it out) we'll be at Churchill's Pub in Miami along with The Remnants for The Inside's last show as Florida residents. It's gonna be a fantabulous show filled with mystery, danger, and the stench of a thousand overflowing toilets. Get there at 10. There might be a cover, then again, there might not be. See? I said it would be filled with mystery.

Mags

Do'Nguyen It

I must apologize to fellow Master Wilkins. Dustin Nguyen is brilliant.

It's been so many years since I've seen an episode of 21 Jumpstreet, I had forgotten the "mad skills" of Mr. Nguyen. Not so much his acting skills, but his ability to maintain a perfect late 80's pompadour while high-kicking a ne'er-do-well in the face. Sure, Johnny Depp is a handsome buck, but his high-kicking skills left much to be desired.

So thank you, Pete and Vanessa, for giving me the 1st season of Jumpstreet on DVD so I could see the light. And thank you to Bandito for giving me the first season on Knight Rider on DVD so I can satisfy my Hasselhoffian needs.

Oh yeah, band stuff - we'll be at The Red Lion in Boynton with Truckstop Coffee this Friday and at Churchill's with The Remnants and The Inside on Saturday. You should come out...and give me the first season of The A-Team on DVD.

Maggie

Be My Former Rock Star

I recently discovered an internet radio station called "80's Hit Machine" that not only plays strictly very underplayed hits of the 80's (No Flock of Seagulls or Dexy's Midnight Runners here), but also plays interviews from the 80's with the likes of Asia, Kansas, and, of course, Eddie Money. I know you're waiting for an Eddie Money story, and you're in luck, because that's all I've got on my mind today. Have a seat. Stay for a while.

During an interview with Eddie from 1987, he mentioned how much he enjoyed going to Europe because he could be anonymous there, and not be bugged by hordes of fans while trying to buy some bubblegum-flavored gelato or white hi-top British Knights, or some such faggotry. He went on to say that it's really hard for "the regular folks" out there to understand how difficult it can be to be a celebrity. Oh Eddie, if only you knew.

Fast forward to 2003, when Eddie Money was headlining a free show at Old School Square in Delray Beach for the Garlic Festival. The Palm Beach Post referred to him simply as "former rock star, Eddie Money". That surely had to be a sting felt all 'round the Bronx. Guys named Vinny and Giuseppe tugged uncomfortably at the collars of their tattered Members Only jackets and longed for better times. The times after Eddie left his job as a police officer and before he became a "former rock star". The times when a 60's girl group singer could rescue your career and push you to the top of the charts. The times when a man could play a saxophone and not be associated with some crappy ska band. I, myself, would have banged my head against the wall until I either erased the memory of being called a "former rock star" or at the very least messed up my perfectly coiffed 'do, which is a horror all its own.

Clearly, Eddie didn't know how fleeting fame would be...So is it really better to have had it all and then lost it, or to go through life as a Never-Was? Would you rather be called an amazing police officer, or a former rock star? Granted, if you watch any old Motley Crue or Poison videos, you'll see that the hats were quite often the same, but cops just don't get the same calibur of tail that rock stars do. Private jets? Not in the NYPD. Fame? I don't think so. But what if you had it all, you had seen the other side, and lost it all? Could you go back to working at 99 Cent Stuff?

So, Eddie, I must say I do feel for you. Rock 'n roll is a young man's game. Who could have known that just one year after your biggest hit that New Kids on The Block would come along and kick your ass into Has-Been Oblivion? I suppose it could be worse. No, wait, it couldn't.

Madge

The Best of Times

The Best of Times, for those of you who didn't have HBO in 1986, combined the comedic appeal of Robin Williams with the boyish mid-80's good looks of Kurt Russell. I know what you're thinking, this surely must have been the greatest film ever made. You are wrong.

I bring this up only because The New Times is having their Best of 2005 awards on May 14th, so you only have a few more days to log on to www.newtimesbpb.com to vote for The Freakin' Hott as best local rock band. Click on the banner at the top of their site to register and vote. If we win, we'll keep bringing you the quality entertainment that you've come to expect from a bunch of debutantes and future dry cleaner cashiers. If we lose, we will become a Scritti Politti cover band. Again. And nobody wants that...besides Wilkins.

We have no shows this weekend to speak of, but a few next week, so we'll keep you posted. If you start to go into the DT's from not seeing us for a week, I'm sure there's some kind of salve or tincture you can use to get rid of them. Salve and tincture are equally disgusting words, and they immediately make me think of the Murine Ear Wax Removal System commercial from a few years back where they had that animation of all of the detritus oozing out of someone's ears after they douched their ear canal. Now my mind is wandering away from the Murine Ear Wax Removal System and moving on to Wilfred Brimley's old Quaker Oats commercials where he would say, "It's the right thing to do, and a tasty way to do it."

Have you ever used the word "tasty" in real life, when describing food? Who does that?

"Wow - this 7-11 taquito is super tasty!"

And you people wonder why I'm an insomniac.

Maggie