TAINTS OF LOS ANGELES

It's irresponsible and lame to use a virtually anonymous internet platform to wish bodily harm on a human being. But Motley Crue's Nikki Sixx is 90% vagina so he doesn't qualify as a person with feelings. So I double-taked like a motherfucker when a co-worker hipped me to the news about a stabbing at a recent Motley Crue show in New York. My first words were Has Sixx been neutralized? Has this month's HooM! Poll (vote over there) spurred some wackjob to fatal action? Can you see this pie stain on my shirt? The answer to all three was no. Sigh.

Trouble started for John Bieganski when he thought he saw a friend being tackled and punched by one or two other men. When he tried to pull one of the men off his friend -- it turned out not to be his friend who was being attacked -- Bieganski said he suddenly felt something warm on his leg, touched it, and then saw the blood. He required 28 stitches to close a gaping 4-inch wound on his leg.

Unless he got confused cuz, say, Bieganski wears Sixx brand clothing and thus closely resembles Flabby McDoublechin, I can't understand the unidentified assailant's rationale. Wait, unless he planned to heave Bieganski's prone body onto Sixx from great height, crushing the lardass bassist to death. Shit we've all contemplated doing that.

METALLICA AND ME: BROTHERS IN SUCK

You'd think by this point that being called an asshole and a failure wouldn't ruffle me, especially when I deserve it (always) but this time goddammit I'm really trying to come through for everybody. Seriously I am. In all facets of my professional and personal life. Is it too little too late? Does my effort have a negative effect cuz I'm a retard? Ugh.

Anyway for an encore to Wednesday's failfest, stand back as I get all angry that those rotten bastards in Metallica pull ahead in the damn fucking Bob Rock poll (on the right). It was a concession to some of Rock's most commercially successful work and a polite nod to the least shitty song on a hideously bland hard rock album for pussies. "Of Wolf And Man" is in no way comparable to the other songs (vote DLR you fuckers) in quality, from the unfinished chorus and hyper-corny hunt-themed verses to the sublimely farty Hammett solo. But then again, it's wrong to ask a question and then be enraged by the answer. So my boss and gf are right about me. Shit.

BOB ROCK, RE-GIFTER

It's long been my contention that Motley Crue's Dr. Feelgood is precisely as over-appreciated as David Lee Roth's majestic A Little Ain't Enough is neglected. The silly arena rock records share producer Bob Rock (fancy that there's a poll over there) and the presence of a thunderous should-be single ("Slice of Your Pie" and "Lady Luck," respectively). But there's more oh my yes. Rock sold to each the same riff, though cleverly hidden on late album toss-offs (shudder "Sticky Sweet" and giggle "Last Call"), and a awesome moody instrumental passage, i.e. the first notes of Dr. Feelgood (title track intro) and the last notes of ALAE (last half of "Drop In The Bucket"). Yeah I can see why Metallica hired him. But Rock was wise enough to stand aside and let the band cannibalize itself, and then the main riff on "...And Justice For All" was fed into the White Bread-izer 8000 and came out "Enter Sandman." Yawwwwwn.

BOBBY, YOUR DOUBLIN' IS DRIVING ME INSANE

The Cult's "Soul Asylum," the monster rock explosion of mega-thunder, jumped out to a healthy lead in the HooM! Bob Rock poll (under Jane under the table). But gaining fast is the Blue Murder igloo-incinerator "Sex Child" (above), John Sykes' paean to extremely underage sexual congress. The epic tune features the most memorable single musical phrase since Beethoven's fifth symphony: Yeah-yeah-ee-eh! Rock, like a fucking savante, correctly identified the Sykes bleat as a winner, and thus repeated it ad infinitum throughout "Sex Child"'s six minutes. Some times Yeah-yeah-ee-ehs call and respond to each other, overlap and echo, platoons ofpouty-lipped, frizzy blond manes proliferating like moss. Get 'em off me! Vote on the fucking poll then save yourself!

DEVIN TOWNSEND IS A FUNEREAL WINNER

Super HooM! thanks to the awesome awesomists who voted on the awesome HooM! Funeral Music poll. My choice would've been The Crown's "Dawn Of Emptiness" but jeez it took all month to decide. And it came down to the song's terminus, not ironically, which in the case of our winner, Devy's epic "Dynamics" (above, best voice of all time?), is an unresolved bummer. Meanwhile, "Dawn" leaves on a note of triumphant and omnicidal menace, which is 100% what my life has been about. That and Cinnamon Toast Crunch that shit is delicious.