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Courtney Stodden Is On The Verge Of A Wardrobe Malfunction – Celebuzz |
I Never Thought I'd Love Sports Bras This Much – The Chive | |
Kesha Rolls Out With Her Booty Out – The Superficial | |
Olivia Munn Sizzles In Esquire – Popoholic | |
Miley Cyrus and Rihanna Making Out? – TMZ | |
Angelina Jolie's Nude Photo Auctioned Off – Huffington Post |
Egotastic












Zach Vs. Rock ‘N’ Roll: There’s No Stopping Sabbath
The best thing I’ve heard this week came from 1975. It was by a group many 'next-big-thing' obsessives might only dust off for occasional, ironic listens, a band fronted by an icon known in his later days as the face MTV's The Osbournes, a torch-bearer of the reality TV universe we’ve suffered through for the past decade.
Soon enough -- after a series of blessedly in-tune Ozzy shrieks, a mammoth drum solo followed by a trenchant guitar solo -- and my subway ride is over. My headphones are sad, quiet.
And that was, and shall remain, the musical highlight of my week. I realize this all adds up to a perfect storm of what feels in part like nonsense -- the assertion that a crappy bootleg track is superior to a venerated studio recording, coupled with a fusty “they don’t make ’em like they used to” mentality. So don’t get me wrong -- I’m as excited for the new record by math-metal wizards Mastodon as the next shredder (the last album’s vocals sounded suspiciously like Ozzy, actually…), but at least on this particular week, the trophy goes to the Old School.
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