In case you’re skimming through this, that’s “fragile rockers,” not “Fraggle Rockers.” I will discuss the medical issues of Gobo and the gang in a column some time in the future.
As many of you now already know, we lost Ronnie James Dio yesterday. He died of stomach cancer, surrounded by friends and of course, lots of fake blood. His death brings a sobering moment to us all, especially the metal community, who are among the most conscious of mortuary affairs of all musicians.
What his death points out is something very important: our rock singers are not as flawless and ageless as they would have us believe. No, they are mere mortals, blessed with the ability to rock us. What can we do to save them? There’s no easy answer. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: What’s wrong with our fragile rockers?
A little over a year and a half ago, after years of fighting it off, I got absorbed into the world of reality television. I found out VH1 was doing their latest reality series on Poison’s Bret Michaels. Being a huge Poison fan, I found myself sucked into the vortex that became “Rock of Love” by the thought of Michaels fighting off numerous women, and the possibility that I might get to see CC DeVille relapse and do a line of blow off the forehead of one of these skanks after they passed out from the routine Tuesday morning bender.
You might be asking yourself where the hell does all of this fall in the line of sports. Well, dating is a sport, and I’m running low on fresh material, so today you get my calloused thoughts on “Rock of Love Bus” and Michaels’ newest wench Taya. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Love hurts