So, Hottest 100 ack-shawn, right? For the record, I threw a hissy-fit when Paul Dempsey's voice came on at number 2. Not because his voice is really that wonderful, but because that meant Monsters wasn't number 1. Amazing? Pah! Insipid, more like.

Yes, I am the hard rock goth chick. Fear me.

Meanwhile, more on the Garbage commentary. Having now heard Androgeny, and really listened to Cherry Lips, as opposed to laughing at Shirley Manson, I have reached some conclusions. These songs are the musical equivalent of those plastic cheese slices. It's smooth and sleek and plastic-wrapped and almost perfect except that it has no bite. No soul. No oomph. Nothing, in short, that would make me even nod along, let alone mess up my hair by moshing. Far from their halcyon dirty self-titled days.

That's enough Garbage-bashing for one blog, I think, so I'll just shut up about it from now on.

(Oh, wait, one small PS and then I promise I'll shut up. The obsession this mob has with gender and sexual ambiguity make me raise my eyebrows. Something you're not telling us, guys?)