The Continuing Adventures Of Your Own Personal Jesus

  Words to live by and, if I'm being entirely honest, when I was single and on the prowl I adopted a very similar policy.  If I became interested in someone I'd ask a few questions, amongst them was the question of, "What kind of books do you read?"  I'd follow that up with something like, "What's your favourite book?"  If I got a stupid answer then I'd not bother taking that persons call ever again.  Call me mean, but hey, intelligence is more sexy than just big norks and blowjobs.  Trust me on that.  Once the nookie is finished you need to be able to hold a conversation, it's important.  I dated a few people with empty heads and after a few minutes of blank stares and debating the importance of Justin Timberlake, well, you just know it' useless. I remember one such encounter well.  We'd had dinner and I asked, "Do you read?"  I got an angry stare back, "Of course I can read.  Whatcha think I'm thick or su...

…is puke really.  The history of music is littered with people who, put simply, just didn’t belong there.  They might have been crazy bastards, plagiarists, paedos or simply untalented to the point where they just weren’t that entertaining.  You can decide in which category Collette fits into, but, in order to help you, she just wasn’t that talented.  I doubt she was crazy, had a paedo bear or plagiarised anyone. Collette ‘exploded’ onto the scene in 1989 with her ‘remake’ of Anita Wards brilliant Ring My Bell.  Whereas Anita Ward could sing the shit out of anything she chose to, Collette’s fame was packaged more around her fluro bike pants, braces and lyrca, into which she crammed a pair of rather large norks (bashed into a bra one size too small) and a bigger snout that wasn’t immediately apparent until she turned side on and aerobic exercises that she passed off as dance routines along with some absolutely mental poses that she struck.  In a way she...