Q: What do you get when you cross Vanity Fair with Maxim?

A: A stupid magazine that no one likes. Also, who knew they still publish Details?

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Back in my gangly teenage days, Details was the epitome of cool. To me, anyway. Mostly that was thanks to a young-ish Rob Sheffield, who wrote every single music review in the magazine (before eventually being snatched up by Rolling Stone). Month after month, Sheffield's section introduced me to the music that made life bearable(Endtroducing..., The Great Escape, Moon Safari) and simultaneously to the writing style I would imitate poorly for the next several decades. As would, possibly, Sheffield himself.

Back then, though, he was in complete control, both stylistically and editorially (or so it seemed). And things were never the same after he moved to RS, either for him or for Details, which within a year had become total crap. All the enjoyable writers jumped ship; Glenn O'Brien took his Style Guy shtick elsewhere; and the relentlessly brilliant features writer Chris Heath ran off to write a biography of Robbie fucking Williams, thus becoming dead to me.

Granted, I was around 17 at the time, so I don't know whether the magazine was actually as great as I thought it was. It might have been I was just a dumb teenager, hard to say. But this was way before metrosexuality became associated with douchebags and Axe body spray, and I really liked reading a magazine that taught me to be as gay as possible without actually suggesting I should have sex with men. In retrospect, I may have missed the point there entirely; I think I was the only subscriber not having sex with men anyway.

By the way, I just realized that, as of 1996, I had never kissed a girl, spent every afternoon rehearsing for school plays, bought all my clothes at Structure, listened to a lot of Pet Shop Boys, sucked at sports, and received this magazine in the mail monthly:

It's a good thing I wasn't ever savagely beaten up in high school, because somebody would have been mistakenly convicted of a hate crime. Or I think it would have been "mistakenly." Honestly, at this point my heterosexuality looks like a sham even to me.

Q: Why is the grass always greener on the other Earth?

A: Did you hear about how global warming is, like, solved? No, it wasn't the announcement of the Spinal Tap benefit reunion. It was the recent discovery of an AWESOME NEW PLANET!

They're calling it Second Earth. So pack those bags, baby! We're MOVIN' ON UP — TO THE GLIESE SIDE!!!

AP: Potential Habitable Planet Found

For the first time astronomers have discovered a planet outside our solar system that is potentially habitable, with Earth-like temperatures, a find researchers described Tuesday as a big step in the search for "life in the universe."

The planet is just the right size, might have water in liquid form, and in galactic terms is relatively nearby at 120 trillion miles away. But the star it closely orbits, Gliese 581, known as a "red dwarf," is much smaller, dimmer and cooler than our sun.

Wow, that sounds a lot like my high school. There were quite a few kids smaller and dimmer than me, but they were all way, way cooler.

But hang on, they expect us to believe that some "red dwarf" is cooler than our precious, precious sun?


I mean, a "red dwarf" sounds like he plays a lot of D&D and makes constant snickering references to the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow, am I right?

Well, turns out I'm not right. I called some of my friends at NASA this morning, and the evidence they just sent me is pretty conclusive: Our sun is, comparatively, a total nerd. Click to enlarge:


My NASA friends also revealed the reason the grass is always greener on Second Earth: Despite being smaller and dimmer, Second Sun is so totally cool that it gets other, smarter stars to do its photosynthesis for it, while it makes out with its hot girlfriend, a varsity volleyball player, in the woods behind school. Wow, that is one cool dude.

I don't know about you, but I'm DONE with the Milky Way.

The Velvet Underground
Who Loves the Sun
Loaded, 1970

It's a galaxy full of losers, and I'm pulling out of here to win!!!

Q: "How do I explain to a mom that her kid has herpes forever?"

Wrestling: Now even more like gay intercourse.

A: That's the question posed by Owatonna High School coach Scot Davis after a herpes outbreak forced a suspension of Minnesota's HS wrestling season. Awwwwwwkward.

I don't mean to make light of this story, but it's hard to hold back when the sidebar is headlined "South Dakota on herpes alert." Anyhoo, Scot, the best I can tell you is to go ask Alice.

On the bright side, it's only showing up on wrestlers' head, neck and face, which basically makes it like a really bad cold sore. Just remind everyone not to make love to the team from Rochester, and you should be just fine.

EARLIER: Are you a kitten with herpes?