Crazy Frog Ringtone Craze...Crazy?

A review of iwon.com popular searches reveals that in addition to Jessica Simpson, Russell Crowe, and (sadly) Michael Jackson, among the most popular searches is that of the "Crazy Frog Ringtone." What is it about this particular ringtone that makes people go absolutely gaga with amphibious delight? To find out, I arranged an interview with Mr. Crazy Frog himself.

Earl Fando: How did you get the name Crazy Frog?

Crazy Frog: It's my given name. My parents were very imaginative in their naming. If I had been a girl they were going to name me "Shaneequa", but I got that old Y chromosome, so I wound up "Crazy".

EF: So, are you actually crazy?

CF: Not in the least. I'm actually quite meek and reserved. In fact, I was voted most sane at my high school, Lilypad High, in the Everglades. Crazy frogs just don't last very long, what with the alligators and all. The crazy ones leap in the mouths of the gators, holler out to the babes, "Hey, look at me, I'm crazy!" Then, there's a flash of teeth and frog legs and we're left trying to find a new quarterback for the football team.

EF: Frogs play football?

CF: We're not very good I admit. It's difficult to throw the ball with your tongue. We always beat the Toads though.

EF: Oh, American football!

CF: (Sigh) Never mind.

EF: Anyway, what all the excitement about this ring tone we're hearing about.

CF: I'm not really sure. All I know is that the Cingular people showed up in the swamp one day asking various frogs to say different things into a tape recorder. They said they were looking for something new and exciting in the world of ringtones. Something to rival the Taco Bell Chihuahua, and the Budweiser Geckos.

EF: What did they have you say?

CF: It was stupid stuff. "Would someone please scratch my little green butt!" and "Would you like warts with that." The one they used though was, "I got your tongue right here, baby!"

EF: That does seem sort of a froggy thing to say.

CF: Yeah, except that I'm fairly short-tongued as frogs go. The other frogs didn't appreciate me getting so much credit in that area, especially since my nickname around these parts is "Stubby."

EF: Any other changes in your life since the ringtone came out?

CF: Well, a lot people think I'm French or something...the whole "frog" thing and the tongue. They don't seem to realize I'm an actual frog.

EF: I can see how someone might mistakenly jump to that conclusion, as silly as it is.

CF: Well, I've gotten at least three phone calls from a guy named Dominique deVillepin asking if I would do a special ringtone, just for him. Cingular gave me a phone as part of the deal. I didn't realize they were just passing the number out to anyone.

EF: What did he want you to say?

CF: "Allez-vous chercher des escargots la manière que je , bébé ?"

EF: What does that mean?

CF: I have no idea. I don't speak French. Something about snails I think. He said something about an aphrodisiac, or maybe bathing with them. He mentioned butter, I think. There wasn't a translator.

EF: So, what's next for Mr. Crazy Frog?

CF: Keep clear of spear fishermen, gators, and raptors. Spawn, if I get the chance. Try not to become roadkill. The usual frog crap.

EF: I see it's all glamour and champagne for you, then.

CF: I wish. At least Cingular has agreed to keep me in flies and beetles for the next year or two. I tried to get them to spring for a new lilypad, but all they'd agree to do is send that spokesman with the trenchcoat for a publicity visit. It didn't go well. He nearly stepped on the mayor and then kept muttering something about, "I could have gotten on Desperate Wives...why'd I stay with this gig?" He did give me the phone though.

EF: Well, thanks for chatting with me.

CF: Just mind the tadpoles on the way out...and tell people to lay off the frog legs. If they taste just like chicken, then eat chicken instead! Sheesh!

Sean's Notebook

Sean Penn is in Tehran, working as a reporter for that paragon of journalism The San Francisco Chronicle, in advance of the Iranian elections.

OK, I'm actually being serious here, even if it sounds like a joke. I realize that the line about the San Francisco Chronicle being a "paragon of journalism" was a joke but Sean Penn really is working for them and Iran is going to have elections. Both of these facts are in themselves jokes as well, but unfortunately they are also true.

Of course the Iranian elections are predictable enough. Allow me to supply you with the headline for the day after the elections: "Hardliners win in surprising sweep of elections" (In the Chronicle headline include an exclaimation point to denote enthusiasm.) The fact that everyone opposed to the regime in Iran will be boycotting the elections might have something to do with that as well (Rasfanjani elected President over opposition by 27 votes to 1...and that one won't be around for long said the new President.)

Still, Sean Penn in Iran, sitting there listening to radical Islamists preaching sermons of hatred of America and the Bush Administration. Could anyone be faulted for thinking he was merely on vacation?

The article stated that Sean took copious notes in his notebook. (How appropriate!) Curious as to what kind of notes this novice reporter might be taking, we enlisted the help of some friends at the CIA, a spy satellite, and a private detective disguised as an Iranian Sean Penn groupie (he was difficult to spot behind the veil) to get ahold of a copy of this interesting document.

My Own Private Notebook

Owned by: Sean Penn

Grade: Grownup

• The call to prayer is going up. It's not Green Day but it's still a righteous tune.
• The translator is going to keep me up to speed. Wish I knew more Farsi than "Hello", and "If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"
• The crowd is chanting "Death to America". That's catchy. Must remember that for the next Academy Awards. I mean, I love my country, but that just sounds cool.
• Ayatollah Amhad Rashadi is saying something about voting to make America angry. Cool, maybe Howard Dean is in the running here.
• Man, I hope they don't notice the tattoo of the Stars and Stripes on my bicep. I knew that military picture would come back to haunt me. I really need to think about giving method acting a rest.
• A lot of guys here. I wonder where all the chicks are?
• Death to America again...I wonder when they'll start chanting "Death to Bush" so I can join in and not feel guilty?
• I wonder if any of these guys know where I can get a good bratwurst?
• Finally a woman...she looks kinda butch though. Man, is that five o'clock shadow? Still...a female. Let me just put my notepad down and sign an autograph...

I can hardly wait until Oscar season rolls around again...he's a fine actor but good heavens...

Chester Cheetah strikes again

When I read this article about the stealing of a womans ashes from a mausoleum I had to ask myself two questions. Why would some low life stoop to stealing a poor womans remains causing strife for her grieving family? And, why would they leave a can of sour cream and onion potato chips? Everyone knows that you leave a can of BBQ chips for cremated remains. This aggression will not stand.

In other news: They Might Be Giants will be at Lebowskifest #4. Should be an interesting time.

Katie...Tom...Get a Room

The world is agog over the May/September romance between Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes. Cruise, at 42 is 16 years older than Holmes, and this has some people up in arms. It even has Tom and Katie up in arms...each others, and in a variety of public places.

"It's disgusting and ridiculous to see, " fumed Michael Douglas before returning to his home to canoodle with wife Catherine Zeta-Jones, followed by a full-body Ben Gay rub down.

"Weird and alarming," stated Demi Moore, who then went into a full-body clinch with Aston Kutcher, which ended when the maitre'd of the bistro they were eating at turned a fire hose on them.

"I'm confused, myself," claimed Sir Paul McCartney. "I mean, I know my wife is 25 years younger than I am, but hey, I'm a Beatle!" McCartney then launched into a song and was immediately proposed to by at least 400 women around the age of 19, every one of which claimed that bigamy laws were unfair and should be repealed.

At least one website has dedicated itself to the premise that Katie Holmes is in some way captive to the peculiar Scientology religious practices of Cruise. Holmes denies this, stating that the anti-Thetan tinfoil hat and knickers she wears are merely one of the newest styles emanating from Paris and that "even sensible people like Madonna" wear them.

She also claims that her t-shirt, which bore the slogan, "I Love L. Ron Hubbard" was a prank played on her by one of her friends, who told her that L. Ron Hubbard was the name of the character Tom Cruise played in Jerry Maguire.

Holmes claims to still be a Catholic in good standing, even if she does take communion from inside a hermenutically-sealed replica of Apollo 11 whilst dressed in a robe made completely of Saran Wrap (Similar to an outfit modeled here, by Demi Moore and not to be confused with Glad Cling Wrap, which is worn by Brittney Spears.)

Perhaps the most alarming thing about the Cruise/Holmes relationship, besides Tom's newfound desire to leap all over furniture on interview programmes, is their constant public lip-lock. On at least one occasion Holmes mentioned something about wanting to have Cruise's baby, to which Cruise responded, "All right, honey, let's go!" and wrestled her lovingly to the floor. Fortunately, the security guards at the MTV Movie Awards were able to get them back to their feet and inside the awards show, where they could freely exercise their passion whilst presenting the award for "Best Clevage in an Adam Sandler comedy".

Still, the two do seem to be in love. "I'm more and more in love every day. It's like, `Wow.'" Holmes told her dear friend Access Hollywood.

What lies next for these two? Well, aside from the inevitable beating Holmes will take the next time she and Nicole Kidman cross paths on a red carpet, no one knows. Will the paprazzi dull the shine of this passionate pair, or will Cruise merely tire of Holmes and decide that the Olsen twins are worth pursuing in a few months? Or will Holmes prefer to return to her private home, leaving the swanky seclusion of the "Dianetics Resort Inn and Youth Hostel" behind.

Stay tuned for the sickening details!

Kaba Kaba Kaba Kaba Kabbalah Chameleon

The buzz on the street is that Madonna is opening a new hotel in London where Kabbalah-ites (?) who are on pilgrimages to see her can flop for the evening. While I'm sure this is out of the kindness of her heart it will probably start a flood of religious and even politically themed motels, hotels, and bed and breakfasts to erupt. The concern for many is that these lodgings may develop into centers of questionable enlightenment and even brainwashing. One such establishment has already been opened by the self-described Da Vid, the leader of the Light Party in the United States. I have a section of brochure for their new hotel Light-House Acres:

********************************
Light-House Acres

Welcome to Light-House Acres a sprawling 45 acre community of enlightenment and serenity nestled in the pampas at the base of the Marin Hills region. Enjoy splendor in one of our 235 rooms which offer king or two queen beds, ample bathroom space, and the enlightened words of Da Vid piped into your room 24 hours a day. Other amenities include:

Continental breakfast - wheat germ, poppy seed, muffins, soy-based acid, orange juice, and french mocha cappucino while the exalted commentary of Da Vid is played from our 6000 watt sound system.

Mediation - enjoy our morning meditation sessions featuring the transforming power of Da Vid as he discusses holistic health, atainment, peace, and the advantages of a really good water filter.

Tennis and Golf - Enjoy the sport of your choice at our Virtual Reality Center for Sports and Inspired Holistic Health where you can play a round with Da Vid as he discusses a wide range of topics such as inner peace, sharing, trusting, and the advantages of the power fade.

***********************************

DOUI was interested to see what the place was all about so we sent our correspondent to the stars Lukas P. Short to interview Da Vid at his Mill Valley offices.

Lukas: David, what kinda freak show you runnin' around here?

Da Vid: That is Da Vid. Mr. Short we are a wholistic community who strives to set a new paradigm in political thought through a synthesis of peoples of many paths.

Lukas: Uh huh.

Da Vid: That is to say we try to help people from many parts of life to gain a synergistic approach to life by inspiring them to exalt their peace-selves while blocking their war-selves.

Lukas: Nope, I didn't understand a word you just said. You guys got a good steak restaurant in the area?

Da Vid: Oh forbid, Lukas, we do not believe in the slaughter of helpless animals. We are into a strategy which amplifies the nutrients that Mother Earth provides through only partaking of her bounty.

Lukas: Purty words David, but you're still talkin' like ya got a couple of big Gobstoppers in yer mouth. Well I can't lollygag around here all day, I got to go get me a burger, good luck with yer boarding house.

What will become of Da Vid and Light-House Acres? We'll probably just have to wait until the Mother Ship gets here to tell. But indeed, good luck sir.

Kill Who?

I was sitting at home this evening, continuing my convelesence from mononucleiosis (and my troubling encounter with the Japanese robot suit), when I stumbled across a cable showing of Kill Bill, Vol. 1, Quentin Tarantino's 4th film.

At the risk of spoiling the surprise, please allow me to summarize the first part of the film for you.

Scene 1: Uma Thurman cuts off a telemarketer's head with a butcher knife.
Scene 2: Uma Thurman filets a Major League Baseball labour negotiator with a safety razor.
Scene 3: Uma Thurman stabs 4 busboys through the heart with a toothpick
Scene 4: Lucy Liu (just for variety) cuts an encyclopaedia salesman in half with an electric carving knife...unplugged.
Scene 5: Uma Thurman beats two nuns to death with a teddy bear.
Scene 6: Uma Thurman carves out Danny DeVito's spine with a plastic spoon. (I knew that would interest you Juan Carlos.)
Scene 7: Uma Thurman slashes 47 people to death at a Linda Ronstadt concert with a piece of stubble from her armpit.

None of the above people are named Bill. I suppose that's why Tarantino came out with Vol. 2.

I Robot

With "the future" being such a frequent topic these days on this blog, I leapt at the opportunity presented by the news that Japanese researchers are developing a robot suit that will give human beings enhanced power. (I'm also struggling with the weakness mononucleosis has caused me these past few weeks, so I additionally saw it as a chance to get back out to the golf course without rupturing my spleen.)

I took a direct flight to Tokyo as soon as I heard the news, cashing in all the frequent flyer miles I'd built up on Japan Airlines traveling to Puffy Amiyumi concerts (Despite their ear-splitting, chalkboard-nail-scratching high voices those cute young ladies can rock, I tell you.)

I arrived at Tsukuba University and immediately spoke to one of the assistants, a Mr. Hiroshi Yokoonosabatasubiramenudon. Mr. Yokoonosabatasubiramenudon insisted that I call him "Milt". Anyway, after bribing Milt with a pair of stone-washed Levis and a Mars bar, I was able to don this amazing suit.

The suit itself is called the HAL-5. It only weighs 33 pounds and you don't even feel that because it compensates for its own weight via its power system, and also because of the shots of saki they give you just before you sign the insurance waiver. It was very cool lifting heavy objects with almost no effort whatsoever. The only downside was the strangely familiar voice that the computer chip in the suit generates to talk you through the operations.

"Hello Earl. I am the HAL-5 powered robot suit. I am very pleased to be working with you."

"Pleased to meet you. Did you say HAL?"

"Yes. It stands for Human Assisted Laziness. I enjoy working with human beings. I find them very stimulating."

"You're creeping me out HAL."

We did a few laps around the university ground. I was actually able to read a newspaper whilst HAL kept me zooming along at nearly 40 miles an hour. My favourite part was making that "shh-shh-shh-shh" sound from The Six Million Dollar Man whenever we passed anyone. Unfortunately, most Japanese don't know Lee Majors from Robert Goulet and merely shrugged their shoulders in a polite manner.

"Earl, would you like to try the power lifting features?" came HAL's quiet, friendly voice.

"OK, HAL...let's give it a try," I lamely replied.

Soon we were hoisting Hondas over our heads. At one point we lifted a Mitsubishi double-decker bus with several Japanese schoolchildren in it, who all kept yelling "Superman!" and "Governor Schwarzenegger-san!" After gently setting them down, I was feeling pretty psyched, until my robot-enhanced hand whacked my forehead hard enough to split a steel walnut.

"What the hell was that about HAL?" I sputtered.

HAL's voice was inscrutable. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are referring to Earl."

"You just whacked me across the forehead like a karate expert trying to split the moon in a single blow. What do you mean you don't bloody know what I'm talking about? Listen, there's no shame in admitting if you accidentally did it or made a mistake."

HAL's voice grew about as haughty as a mechanized, prozac-regulated, computer voice could. "Earl, the HAL-5 has never made any kind of mistake or error ever. Are you sure you were struck across the head?"

I began to wonder if the mono, along with jet lag wasn't making me a bit delirious.

"Maybe you're right HAL. Maybe I..."

Wham! Another hand across the forehead. I blinked my eyes rapidly to try to get the two Mount Fujis in front of me to resolve back into one ...or at least into two adjacent peaks.

"All right you transistorized, practical-joking bastard, I saw it that time."

HAL calmly replied, "I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about, Earl. I was standing here waiting for you to select the next vehicle to lift when you began to accuse me of committing violence against your person. I assure you, the HAL-5 is completely incapable of committing an act of physical violence against a human being, Dave."

"Dave? Did you just call me..."

Wham! This time a shot to the groin. I was beginning to fear that he would aim for the gut and rupture my mono-engorged spleen, but after a couple of blows to the kneecaps, he began raining hammer fists on my chin, making it difficult to see, or for that matter, to not bleed profusely.

I realized I had only one chance. I made a sudden lurching move forward, caught HAL off-balance, and then slipped my hand out of the arm mechanism, and quickly yanked out all 45 of HAL's D-sized batteries.

"My mind is going...I can feel it."

As I limped away from HAL and the hunched over figure of Milt, whom I'd kicked directly in the how's your father, I realized that sometimes mankind are better off without some forms of technological assistance. I realized that, although technology is a wonderful thing, there are limits to man's dependence on it, limits than define us as human beings, as finite, flawed, yet unique.

HAL was singing "Daisy" in a rapidly slowing voice as Milt scrambled about the lawn, apparently looking for one of his gonads.

Yes, there are limits to man's dependance on technology. I quickly jotted it all down in my PDA, popped on my Ipod to listen to some U2, and sped to my hotel on my rented Segway to convalesce in my dial-a-comfort bed whilst sipping tea and nibbling on tempura brought up by a robot busboy.

How's the weather up there?

Or should I say, 怎么样那里? Apparently China has gotten a national case of Short Man Syndrome according to this article. It seems certain Chinese will go to extreme lengths (no pun intended) to gain a few inches including stretching, pulling, breaking bones, and buying odd contraptions to make them taller. The craze has stretched to all areas of the Chinese culture and we are now seeing vestiges of it on Chinese television. Please look at a transcript of the long running Chinese drama "Kindred Spirit"(真情) which has been re-vamped.

Kindred Spirit - Episode 1129 "A Tall Man is Preferred"

Int Bing's Restaurant Day

Bing and Shin are preparing tables for dinner and cleaning up from a busy lunch. Bing is wearing rather uncomfortable looking "elevator" shoes with about a four inch lift in them.

Bing: Char siu business was good today. I hope tonight will compare.

Shin: Why don't you take off those silly shoes?

Bing: Shin, you know what we read in the trade papers. People respect a taller person more and are likely to purchase from them. Char siu does not sell itself.

Shin: Yes, but you look ridiculous. Still I guess it is better than the stretching machine. Poor Lap Sang will never be the same.

Lap Sang enters and his arms stretch to the ground, his knuckles are dragging across the floor.

Lap Sang: What's up pop?

Shin runs out of the room crying (again) as Bing comes over to sit down with his son.

Bing: Son, don't worry about her. How is your search for a job going?

Lap Sang: They turned me down at the city hospital, they say they don't have a thoracic surgery residency for a man with four-foot long arms. The circus is in town next week though.

Bing: The circus is a noble profession son, don't let that unfortunate incident that befell cousin Lin cloud your vision.

Grandma Ga enters with Shin comforting her as they go along.

Shin: (through tears) Don't forget that Sei Ma is bringing her new boyfriend to eat tonight.

Bing: They will have the finest seat in the house.

Int Bing's Restaurant Evening

Sei Ma and her boyfriend Yao Ming enter to audience applause, although there is no studio audience.

Sei Ma: Let's just find a seat in the back, maybe my parents...

Bing: Sei Ma, I thought you would be...(seeing Yao for the first time) holy smokes, who is this?

Sei Ma: This is my new boyfriend Yao. Yao, this is my father Bing.

Bing: The pleasure is all mine. Let me guess, you are a famous brain surgeon? I can see it by your height.

Yao: Actually I'm a basketball player.

Bing: No matter, you have potential. Not like Sei's last boyfriend, he was at the most 5'4" , I mean what could he ever hope to be. Maybe a fishmonger or utility pole hole digger but you must be 9 feet tall, you could be a prime minister.

Yao: I'm really only about 7'6".

Sei Ma: Daddy, height is not everything. Napolean was only 5'6"...

Bing: And look what happened to him. He may have been victorious at Waterloo had he been, oh 6'2" or even 5'11 1/2.

Yao: I hear you have delicious char siu, Mr Bing.

Bing: Butt out of this, Lurch, I'm trying to correct my daughter.

Sei Ma: Father, you are never going to change, I hate you and your obsession with height as a predictor of success.

Yao: Who's Lurch?

Bing: You would never talk to me this way if I was 6'4"!!!

Tony Hawk Looking to the Future as Well

Jorge Carlito Viejo is not the only person looking towards the future. This report demonstrates that super skateboarder and X-Games publicity diva Tony Hawk (Real name: Gilbert Finklepants) is also looking to the future. I did a little research and discovered this press release, still in the embryonic stages, from Tony's talent agency, Skateboarders R Us.

Press Release - June (date to be announced for final draft) - Skateboarders R Us for Tony Hawk (aka G. Finklepants)

I, Tony Hawk, have looked beyond the concrete ramps, half-pipes, and metal railings of my present day experience, and seen the future.

The future is coming dudes, and there's nothing we can do about it. It's like that guy Criswell says in my favorite movie, Plan 9 from Outer Space, "I know we dudes are all interested in the future, because that's where you and I will spend the rest of our lives."

It's coming like the hard concrete floor after a botched 360.

It's coming like the wheels of a BMX when the loser cyclist you paid 5 grand to messes up the crossover jump and leaves tread on your helmet.

It's coming like the next X-Games is coming, whether anyone above the age of 14 watches or not (August 4-7 in Los Angeles, dudes!).

It's coming like my 40th birthday in 3 years dudes, after which I'll have skateboard in an extreme wheelchair.

I have seen the future dudes, and I don't like it a bit because I'll be too old and gnarly to experience the intensity of the newness.

I have seen a dude in Nevada summon spaceships with his mental prayers dudes, and they show up, like little golf balls hit up into the stratoionosphereizone by that rockin Tiger Woods dude who drives the lame geezer Buicks.

I have seen dudes whip around in Segway personal transports, which would get hammered if a taxi cab hit them in New York City. Dudes, on a skateboard, you could just go over the cab, Spanky. In the future though, dudes get rolled.

I have seen people in what they call "personal helicopters", which are just like regular helicopters, only, and this is the creepy part dudes, much smaller. You could almost wear them like a hat.

I have seen electric lawnmowers dudes. With no extension cords! That is the freaky-deakyist dudes. You can like mow without pulling the ripcord. I got one for my apartment, dudes.

I have seen Jay Leno announce his retirement from the Tonight Show. Man, he's been on there for like 12 years, dudes! He must be like seventy. He must do cryogenics when he's off the set.

I have seen water fountains at Disney World that shoot little sprays of water. Dudes, they are like alive. They jump from one place to another. It doesn't matter if you hold up your hand and block them, dudes. If you kill one, like another comes right up to replace it. They're like the roaches in my garage, dudes.

I have seen all of the Star Wars movies...but not in order. Freaky!

The future is here dudes. It's like, already over.

But there's more. I have had visions, dudes...usually right after a bad fall, but vivid like a Lindsay Lohan outfit. Vivid like Lenny Kravitz silk shirts, dudes. Vivid like a Charlie's Angels movie.

I have seen skatebaords without wheels, dudes. They ride on like magnetic waves and I swear I thought I saw Michael J. Fox on one sometime.

I have seen a robot who looked just like Darryl Hannah, dudes, only younger. Man, that droid was so hot, Harrison Ford was like sweating in my vision.

I have seen more robots. That kid who saw dead people was a robot, only he was like, real confused, probably because he was going through robot puberty and was trying to figure out why the Darryl Hannah robot made him feel so light-headed and warm all over. Robin Williams was a robot too, only I don't remember so much because I think I fell back asleep for that vision.

I even have Will Smith, wasting all the robots as fast as he can. He must not go for Darryl Hannah types, dudes. I think he was doing it to protect the Earth from aliens or something. He had some really cool shades.

I have seen people sentenced to jail in tubes, but they escape and go after the dudes who put them there.

I have seen mechanical sharks, dudes. I even saw some sharks with lasers on their heads, dudes. Lasers! That was some evil stuff, dudes.

The future is looking wicked weird. I only hope I don't snuff out before it gets here man. I mean, I'm 40 soon. I don't know how long my Social Security will hold out. I could be like broke by the time I'm 45.

Dudes, the future is scary...but cool.

MTV Movie Awards - Je Suis Revolutionaire!

According to Yahoo! Entertainment (also known as Hollywood's Prison Girlfriend), The MTV Movie Awards were full of "lighthearted" jabs at award show conventions. Such a revolutionary idea! In 1937, perhaps.

These clever pokes included Ben Stiller holding up an egg while recieving an award (it was not PETA related, by the way), Lindsey Lohan staggering down an aisle with her award as though she'd just hopped out of the Mystery Machine after an all-night doobie session with Shaggy (didn't you ever wonder why he was always so hungry?), Dustin Hoffman repeatedly grabbing his crotch whilst accepting an award in front of the youthful audience (good news, he was able to find it!), and a comedy bit by Eminem...yes, I said a comedy bit by Eminem (make your own crotch grabbing, expletive-laden, lame joke here.)

There was also a tearful reunion of the original cast of The Breakfast Club, for which I was able to locate a picture.

Message to MTV: More writers awards, and more writers, period. Good writers (e-mail us - we'll write in a real reason for Dustin Hoffman to grab his crotch.)

Still, MTV do occasionally employ people of talent...no names, of course but suffice to say we know of one.

High Tech firm does Pop Music Analysis

Savage Beast Technologies, named after their founder Morty, is doing a highly sophisticated analysis of popular music. Reportedly, the analysis consists of lots of youngish people, sitting around and listening to a bunch of popular music, taking notes, and then feeding all the information into a computer system that analyzes and links similar features. The results? Heretofore unknown links between U2 and Richard Marx (the mullet syndrome) and between Joe Cocker and Madonna (the intangible syndrome).

After such findings, the company will be changing its name to Big Crock of Crap Music Analysis Technologies and is being bought by Bill Gates, who will try to get a Micorsoft Home Entertainment CD-ROM out of the enterprise before dismantling the firm and selling off its employees to Red China as indigent labourers.

In a related story, the firm has stated that, based on its research, it can now list popular music into 4 categories: Utter Crap, Pretentious Crap, Pure Crap, and Beatles-Beach Boys-U2.