Can't Take Her Anywhere

Pat Benatar shopped so irresponsibly that she didn't bother to rock, which gave the sexy pants an excuse to roam free and get even more attention from Rico "Fashion Vice" Tubbs and some real life models.

This is What Happens to People Who Show off their Pants

First, they show off their pants until everyone is sick of hearing about how cool they look, or how sexy, or how much more interesting than everyone else on stage even that girl because lord knows she could never afford great pants like that, much less make them look so cool and sexy.






Then, a brave visionary, or possibly a paid employee, steps forward with a complicated strategy for setting the universe right again.







Finally people who show off their pants too much realize why their moms were so nervous about clean underwear.

Once Again, We Affirm Democracy

Lip-synching wins as most 80s of all heinous acts!

A million billion is most people's favorite number!


(I'm pretty sure these were the totally untampered tallies of our pure and fair surveys. I had some trouble reading them through the fog of the aftermath from our huge ten year anniverary party.)

Which 80s Band Has Lasted Longer than the 80s?

That's right, baby. It's our ten year anniversary, and we're not even a little bit sorry.

Those Pants Again

I know you can see how it happened. The pants are blinding! I had to leave the stage just to get my head together, and when I came back, some people were still only looking at the pants! I need help.

Upstaged by Pants!

So Tommy Tubular shows up with these this weekend, and all of a sudden someone is not looking at me but rather at the pants! This is an outrage.

What Does He Mean By That?

I give up. Is it a stick-up?

Ooh La La!

When Tommy Tubular gets down, you better stand back. I can't even stay on the stage during that action, and even the Jessbot has some extra beads of sweat from how HOTT it really is.

My, That's a Big Instrument You've Got There

The Brat Pack might just be the luckiest band in the world.

A Caution from Uncle Dean, Accomplished Electrical Engineer

After a chance meeting on the beach with Uncle Dean, Accomplished Electrical Engineer, we begin to doubt that this supernatural being who recently sat in on drums with the Brat Pack is actually Satan. Uncle Dean, Accomplished Electrical Engineer, has recommended a simple procedure to distinguish The Beast from famous Hollywood actors, but it involves getting close enough to the thing to touch it, so we're waiting for a volunteer.

Heartthrob!!

Almost everyone in the Brat Pack has a crush on the new Guido. Is it his lustrous golden mane? His tantalizing leopard print crotch? Perhaps the shirt emblazoned "Uck" is the root of our swooning. Whatever the mojo, we have seen the future, and it is blonde.

Putting the TT Back in Attitude

I need more TOMMY in my monitor!

See If You Can Spot the Shills

Some of the people in this photo were paid BIG MONEY to come out to the last Fat City gig and say that certain members of the Brat Pack are actually not that boring to hang out with and don't smell too bad immediately after showering. I'll give you a clue: they have been to the Ikea in Bolingbrook.

Contact!

Thanks to Uncle Jeff's helpful calculations and the intergalactic rocking of our Basstronaut, Lynndi Lauper is now able to signal our colleagues on the other side of the space gash.

Dear Diary

OMG, I am so excited about the gig!! We're about to kick it old school style in our home town, with surprise guest appearances by our Basstronaut (until this morning he was lost in space) and that booty-shaking cowbell slamming GI Joe! Expect nothing but FT to the TB at Fat City 2-nite!!

A Call from Uncle Jeff, Noted Theoretical Astrophysicist

Rumors are running wild about Jesse Van Halen's recent top secret confidential private phone conference with Uncle Jeff, Noted Theoretical Astrophysicist. The information is classified, but word on the street is that Uncle Jeff ran the numbers again and found an unidentified galaxy in our Basstronaut's path, one which could present interstellar political complications.

Oh, Hey!

Speaking of wild parties, I heard that some of Guido's cousins will be in the neighbothood next week for a block party. Fire up the grill - caliente!

The Electrik Larry Family Reunion!!

I hear Larry's taking a few hours off sometime next year to attend the biggest blowout this side of the Mississippi, well either side of the Mississippi really, because when the Electrik Larry family gets together, things get pretty wacky!

4 3 2 1

We sent our bass-tronaut off on his mission to probe the universe in search of new forms of hotness. He has met the space gash, and it is good.

Be Careful, Space Explorers!

We might not hear from our Bass-tronaut for some time. Space is really big, after all, and full of flaming meteors, uncharted wormholes, enormous five-headed monsters, and many other things you could easily trip over or get your lifeline wrapped around. The good news is he's not alone out there. He can contact co-pilot GI Joe anytime using the tin can and wire system Uncle Jeff and the Jessbot built for them. The code is "I've fallen, and I can't get up."

Hey I've Been Busy

Back off. I had to sort through my stuff.

Your Cooperation is Appreciated

The following is intended as a handy guide for identifying cheats such as lip-synching, card-counting, and shape-shifting. Allegations that The Brat Pack has committed these atrocities, along with rumors of illicit space exploration, abound. I trust that I can count on you, the rock show consumer, to assist in developing documentary and physical evidence to complete an investigation into these matters.

1. Move a little closer to Jesse Van Halen's naked toes. If you do not detect a human foot odor, find a hair and pull. If the unit fails to express discomfort instantly, please contact me at 1-866-444-1980 for further instruction in how to disable the robot which has been manipulated into subbing for Mr. Van Halen. Robots don't smell, but they also don't belong in a rock show. Mr. Van Halen is no doubt sitting outside in his BMW watching "Plan 9 from Outer Space" and eating funnel cakes. He can work for a living just like everybody else.

2. Watch carefully for instances of skirt-lifting among such minor characters as Blondie, Pat Benatar, and Guido Menudo. These moments could indicate relapse into a classic deception, wherein Ms. Lauper takes unfair advantage of Menudo's happy nature and reads a cheat sheet she stapled to his butt during sound check. Singers who can't be bothered to learn the lyrics to the biggest hits of the 80s will be prosecuted to the full extent of the laws of rock.

3. If TOMMY TUBULAR slips into a Japanese-German accent so that words you thought you knew begin to sound like other words you weren't expecting but can't believe he would say, this could mean that he is lip-synching with a pre-recorded disc which has been damaged by Wisconsin cheese. If this is the case, we will assume that TOMMY has become involved with a pet project of certain other members of the organization, and his mind and impeccable judgement have been compromised by exposure to plutonium. He will be granted leniency in any subsequent disciplinary process, perhaps earning a vacation for two to Jamaica where he might reconsider such toxic associations in relative quiet.

4. Everyone knows that no human is capable of playing drums, being scientific, and singing the greatest hits of the 80s all at once. Therefore, if you happen to notice (say, if Guido steps out of the way to catch a falling Red Bull) that someone on The Brat Pack stage is attempting this, step away slowly and run. He could explode at any moment.

5. If Guido appears to be a white guy with a new hair color or style, and if the band is calling him "[something] Dave," you may be witness to an actual transmogrification. Without drawing attention to yourself, snap a photo or video with your phone and send it to me at 1-866-444-1980, but do not attempt intervention. When Guido has taken any of the myriad Dave forms, he is unpredictable and even dangerous.

Hurry! Get Josh!

With the information recently obtained from "Uncle Jeff," noted theoretical astrophysicist, we could be a hair's breadth away from exploiting a vulnerability in the heretofore impenetrable space/time continuum. If only we could drag Josh of Seagulls away from his top secret chemistry lab deep in the bowels of Champaign-Urbana, we could probably use his protractor to finish painting the flames on our hotrod spaceship and send GI Joe and his crack commandos on their way!

Uncle Jeff, Noted Theoretical Astrophysicist, Speaks

"A careful reading of wikipedia entries on the topic leads us to this most incredible discovery: 'Most active galaxies are ellipticals and are believed to be powered by a supermassive black hole that are emitting radiation due to infalling material.' Even without subject/verb agreement, this may or may not be open to debate, subject to mediation, and conditioned by variables out of our control."

Uncle Jeff then checked his portable chrondometer, scratched his head, and yawned.

"Have they looked in any black holes?"

Our Space Exploration Continues

We've been studying awfully hard since someone suggested that our current gig lacks panache, that real is NOT real, that 2 plus 2 equals something we can't even count up to. New Wave Dave and GI Joe resumed their space travel research, feeling out Titania and plotting a course for Uranus. Their hope is to build a craft entirely of gold, aluminum, and hemp in order to blast through the gash in the space/time continuum so they can get to a totally awesome as yet undiscovered galaxy filled with talented hot new life forms. They also worked on their hairstyles and hip hop moves in order to impress any green chicks they might meet there. I had a free consultation with "Uncle Jeff," noted theoretical astrophysict, who notably and theoretically commented, "Why?"

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Bewaaare

Your Monster Profile

Blood Thirsty Cannibal You Feast On: M&Ms You Lurk Around In: Swamps You Especially Like to Torment: Boys Who Wear Make-up

What's Your Monster Name?

Snarkette Takes a Fall (No Tears are Shed)

It's been a busy day. After thorough investigation of Lauper's latest spree, wherein she mocked MR. TUBULAR'S speech impairment, touted our lawyer's talents inappropriately, and used sarcasm to no avail, I have made the (effortless) decision to terminate her contract.

Happily, there is a sophisticated and lovely replacement who is willing to change her name to Lynndi Lauper and gain twenty pounds to fit into the outgoing's wardrobe and who coincidentally knows all five hundred songs (sort of.) The new Lynndi Lauper is not an immature child but rather a submissive and intelligent grown-up. Welcome!

When Will We Grow Up and See that Being in a Cover Band is STOOPID?

TOMMY T'BURGER, New Wave Dave, and Josh "Cabin Boy" of Seagulls don't seem to understand the real world or appreciate the limitations of adulthood. They put on silly costumes and say things that don't make sense and do those twirls and kicks for absolutely no reason. One day they'll realize that driving hither and thither in hybrid DeLorean minivans, rocking the masses until everyone has a lampshade on their head is NOT actually a way to make a living, and they'll finish their doctorates of rocket science and warm up to desk life.

Survey Says!

On Average, You Would Sell Out For

$271,862

At What Price Would You Sell Out?

Name That Band

You'll be glad to learn I've come to my senses, thanks to a gentle reminder to take the meds. I've talked to most everyone in the band (well, to one, but he had another call,) and we agreed we've been The Brat Pack for too long. We've gone by this name for over ten years, and while it's useful for letting everyone know when and where we're playing, it really does seem fair to move on and let someone else try it for a while. Why not give a brother a break, sharing the fruits of our labor with those not fortunate to have done it first? I've got a few catchy replacement names in mind: Dave Chappelle's Show, FoxNews, Paris Hilton, and X-Krush, to name but a few. But why not go further, turning our time of transition into a huge publicity stunt? I propose a contest wherein the dear reader may submit the very best new name (we get to choose it, though, right?) and win some cash, say five hundred crisp, new, stripper-scented US dollars. Is everyone on board?

Electric "GM" Larry Made Me Do It

Your Mexican Name Is...

Doña Xochitl

What's Your Mexican Name?

Nah, It Must Be My Hearing

After careful review of the last few shows, when no one else, not even Larry, seemed confused by TOMMY "TB" TUBULAR's strange pronunciations, I googled the rest of the band and learned that they haven't even been to Japan or Wisconsin, so they would have no way of understanding his odd dialect. So it's gotta be my hearing.

Could Be His Accent

Now that I think about it, the gear probably isn't the problem. It's just that sometimes, on certain songs, I think I'm hearing different words than the ones I expect. But Tommy was born in Japan and grew up in Wisconsin, so it could just be that I'm not hip to his complicated and exotic accent.

Larry, There's a Problem!

I don't really know if it's TOMMY "TB" TUBULAR's mic or my headset, but sometimes I hear the weirdest stuff with his vocal. Please check the gear thoroughly as soon as you can, because it's starting to make me wonder about my hearing or even my sanity.

Why Our Lawyer Kicks Butt and Screech's Lawyer Does Not

Our lawyer is so effective that all he has to do is call the Brat Pack of (state name deleted to protect the innocent) and say "Hi, I'm..." and they instantly go out of business. He wishes them luck and hangs up. He starts dialing the number for the Brat Pack of (state name deleted to protect the innocent,) and before he gets to the last digit, they call HIM and start apologizing for not changing their name several months ago when they promised Jesse Van Halen they would change their name (after they asked if they could use our logo, website, identity, and underarmor and were told, "Um, not really.") Our lawyer has the magic touch. And a very cool car.

Screech's lawyer, on the other hand, is a meanie over in New York and doesn't return his calls and says "don't worry" until THE MAN comes to foreclose on Screech's house and now he has to get Howard Stern to kick everyone's ass because Howard is more powerful than all the lawyers in the world put together. Except for ours.

Don't Make Fun of Bots

I learned the hard way not to make fun of the Jessbot 3000 when it's breaking down. My advice to everyone in the front row is: if you've been tickling its stylish toenails or demanding to wear the hat, and then it starts to sputter and flames shoot from its head, you've exceeded the limits of its program, and your best move is three big steps back and run.

We Stand For Something

He's in Wisconsin, the land of TOMMY TUBULAR's glorious childhood. He was the most important star of a show that technically started in the 80s, making it our business, and three of us met him at NACA when he was feeling kind of sick but signed a photo for Guido anyway. We gotta take up the cause.