I Like You, You're Catchy.

The Tings Tings to the left with lead singer Katie White, or as I like to call her, the White Funk. She has a modern-day Blondie look going on, which I applaud, loudly, like the last man in the theatre. Then down there underneath my word-candies there's the Sex Pistols, which I think have a certain "nuff said" quality about them, so I'll simply say the Gods of Punk, and that truly is 'nuff said.

Here is my favourite funny woman right now, Becki Newton off of the amazing show "Ugly Betty" (Don't diss it 'till you've tried it, you cynical TV whores, i know what you're thinking) She's a funny, sexy bitch. I love her, and her fashion choices. Down there she's attending some fashion thing with riff raff. Above, Mr. Austin Powers, the leading proponent of free love, and look at him, the sexy beast, no woman can resist him. That suit is no longer far-fetched, invest in one much like it, boys.

There's that ridiculously cool hip-hop world monster M.I.A., good god, she can pull off anything, do anything, sing anything and I'd follow the trend as gospel. What a cool chicky.

These Bad boys are Andrew Van Wyngarden from MGMT and his hirsute band-mate, of which I cannot be bothered to look up his name. He's just not got the charisma of Van Wyngarden, and by charisma, I mean looks. I very much respect the musical talent of these two.

Ke$ha: a woman with true balls, who else could turn the whole hip-hop genre on its head by saying such typically male things as: "Don't be a lil bitch witcha chit chat, just turn around boy, let me hit that!" and likening herself to P. Diddy. What an inspiration. She makes me wanna dance wit no pants on. And there in the corner is Iggy Pop, an old school inspiration- The Stooges, anyone? he's with his friend Handsome Dick Manitoba. The guy with the whafro. They make a handsome couple, don't they?

Noel Fielding? Noel Fielding? Can you hear me? It's me, Rose Behar, can I have a little of that funk shake?

That's right, I do pray to this man. If he wore a toga, he would be a God.

And here he is with Julian Barratt, another comedy genius, and with a style all his own. Mostly it's his brilliance that inspires me, but there's something about his profound muffin cordouroys, hawaiin print shirts and brown felt fedoras that are intriguing, or maybe it's just his legs, Reoww. Those babies drive me crazy.

Russell Brand, a complex man, I have come to find out after reading his memoir, My Booky Wook. Don't let that title confuse you there's nothing booky-wooky about it, it's an insane, tell-all, only semi-humourous autobiography. But it's not depressing, it's just real, like Brand. You come to realize he's not joking really, ever, all the outrageous things he says are REAL, the fashion-pirate. What a man!

Barratt again, riffing like a motherbitch on an electro-keyboard.











I am in no way able to resist squealing over Faris Badwan like the rest of his obsessive fans. The sex-appeal of Badwan, often inexplicably referred to as Faris Rotter, is magnetic. Just ask all the girls on his fan pages on facebook. And that one guy. He was pretty into Badwan as well. And who can blame him? Look at him, that cheeky, punky, young bastard, staggering around on stage.

Here's good old Lily Allen, always hip, always partying, always saying weird shit and flashing her boobs. I approve of all. Boobs are meant to be flashed, not hidden away in those great wire-fabric cages that they're always in. Have you EVER heard a breast say it wanted to be in there? No.