Angelina and Billy Bob: bwaa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Big ups to longtime Well Hung hero Cathal Coughlan, who has just released what is unquestionably his best solo album to date. The Sky's Awful Blue finds Coughlan in superior form, spewing his extraordinarily visceral piss-blood-and-jizz poetry atop evocative string-laden gutter symphonics. Fit to burst with righteous rage, the erstwhile Microdisney/Fatima Mansions frontman unleashes what is possibly the finest vocal performance of his career. Considering he's among the truly great singers of our generation, that's saying something.

Sucker Carlson is like Ann "Thrax" Coulter with a smaller cock . . . Oh, and in point of fact, it is logistically difficult travelling to Nantucket. One time, Ted Kennedy drove right off a bridge trying to get there.

Eric Bischoff on RAW, NME offering a "Guide to Brooklyn," Michiko Kakutani doing an Austin Powers impression -- the world is truly coming to an end. If someone decides to remake The Monkees, we're in trouble . . .

Drug use among young people has dropped to an eight-year low, unless you're named "Bush," in which case it's up seventy-eight percent . . . This week on The Osbournes: Sharon goes wig shopping . . .

Do we have this right? The Icarus Line dress like the Hives, sound like At the Drive-In and break stuff like . . . And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead? Any of 'em dating Winona yet? Wankers.

Well Hung's band of the week is Liverpool's the Coral. Not only do they namecheck Shack and cover "Reward" by the Teardrop Explodes but they rock sick in a most wacky way. We give their self-titled debut four-and-a-half stars. The fact that there are bands like them -- and Miss Black America, the Dawn Parade, the Loves, Ricky, the Free French, Tommy and the Chauffeur, and the NPB (to name but a few) -- makes this epidemic of Vines worship all the more irritating. For that matter, what's up with NME giving Ben Kweller's delicious Sha Sha a six rating in the same issue that Highly Evolved is declared one of the greatest debuts of all time! Hello?!? The Vines aren't even as good as Radish. There's only one way Craig Nichols will ever have something in common with Kurt, if you know what we mean. Then you can give him eight pages . . .

Good to see Doonesbury back on track, offering a full bore (and funny!) assault on the "Prez." If only we could say the same about Beetle Bailey . . . With www.mediawhoresonline.com still on vacation, now might be a good time to pick up Gore Vidal's intrepid little volume, Perpetual War for Perpetual Peace.

Your intrepid Well Hung friends -- well, one of 'em, at least -- ventured out to Coney last weekend to check out the current state of Indie Rock. Needless to say, we are unamused. Fact: the Yeah Yeah Yeahs suck in a most profound way. In the immortal words of Mike Damone, "What about the tunes?!?"

Bush knew.

We're not great fans of Tony Blair, but we'd like to offer our thumbs up on his choice for the new Archbishop of Canterbury. A liberal Welshman -- woo hoo! It's almost enough to make us convert to C of E. Almost.

Did we mention that we wouldn't fuck Ann "The Man" with Kate O'Beirne's dick? . . . The dream police/They live inside of my head . . .

Didn't take long for a few redneck Republicans to complain about the HIV-positive Muppet in South Africa. Us, we're holding out for Bert and Ernie in Longtime Companion. If nothing else, it would be a better movie than Ben Stiller and Owen "He Annoying" Wilson in Starsky and friggin' Hutch.

Speaking of Stiller and Wilson, we don't care if it starts off with "Hey Jude," "Sloop John B" or "Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft" -- The Royal Tennenbaums fails, fails, fails, albeit nobly . . . When they talk about tainted meat, is that the part of the cow between the scrotum and the asshole? . . . Whatever happened to Ryan Adams?

Maybe we missed this before but apparently the Short List Music Prize, or, as we've come to think of it, the Nomination Award, doesn't consider records that have sold more than half a million copies. OK, we get it, it doesn't actually reward the best music, only music that doesn't sell. The good news is: Goddess in the Doorway is eligible . . . And so is Moving Up Country by James Yorkston and the Athletes. We've been meaning to mention this Scotsman's stellar art-folk for quite some time, so there ya go . . .

Li'l Stevie Malkmus is set to curate an All Tomorrow's Parties shindig at Rutgers University. Color us psyched for the Groundhogs and Martin Carthy . . . How 'come Jason can't buy Big Leaves' Welsh EP Siglo anywhere on line? Cymorth!

Details and ESPN.com have both made fun of ALF recently, implying that Mike Piazza and Emmit Smith somehow demean themselves by working with the furry dude. We'll grant Smith his Super Bowl rings, and Piazza seems like a pretty good guy, as not-gay metalheads go, but neither of them can compare to the powerful metaphor for Eighties American trash culture that was ALF. Plus, he ate cats.

James Gandolfini says he won't keep doing The Sopranos if David Chase isn't around. He would rather work with Gore Verbinski. And oh yeah, given Chase's mania for digital alteration, shouldn't he fix that scene in the Miller's Crossing rip-off episode where Paulie fills up his own gas tank on the Jersey Turnpike? Not even made guys get away with that.

BTW kids, "C of E" stands for Church of England. See, back in the day, our country was founded by people who wanted to get away from a government that foisted specific religious beliefs on all its citizens. Wonder what that was like?

Come to think of it, why not make ALF the HIV positive Muppet? He isn't funded by the U.S. government (that we know of).

Finally, a faithful reader writes, regarding last week's column, "I just read Well Hung at Dawn and there were zero -- not a one -- insults, cheap shots, dismissals, attacks, or critiques." Management regrets the error.

E-mail: Sqwubbsy@aol.com

JASON COHEN and MICHAEL KRUGMAN
(July 29, 2002)

[The opinions expressed above are those of Cohen and Krugman and not necessarily that of the highly evolved Rolling Stone.]