By Alex Distefano
By Scott Snowden
By Anna Merlan
By Steve Almond
By Jena Ardell
By Jon Campbell
By Alan Scherstuhl
By Tessa Stuart
All three Hansons, plus the middle one's wife and baby, just moved into a giant loft in Tribeca, "and it's not that bad," Zac Hanson told me. "We are brothers." As we became sisters, Pharrell finally arrived and was not frontin' when he told me he's a little uneasy about having posed shirtless for Paper. "I never knew my life would turn out like this," the recording phenom told me, "and taking your shirt off and shit really makes a difference in the way people perceive you. I don't want people to think I'm trying to sell how I look. I'm not a sex symbol!" "But you're cute," I blurted, so ashamed of myself. (I'm not a saint.) "Don't say that," Pharrell said, looking pained. "I don't want to be 40 without a home, wife, and kids, because I'm dating the hottest models. That's not a life. I want someone to share a life with." After nine more hors d'oeuvres, I ran home with my Benson photo and we made a life together.
Not that I'm still horny or anything, but can I just remark on what an unexpectedly très hot bunch of Dem daddies there's been this campaign season? Howard Dean is a silver fox and entirely fuckable, even with that coiled neck (I'd make him scream, all right); Wesley Clark, despite the shoulder pads that make his head look even smaller, radiates smiling smolder and four-star authorityhe'd dominate you, but nicely, thank you; John Edwards, let's face it, is an utter Breck goddess with a portrait in the attic; Kucinich has those floppy ears to grab on to for a potentially wild ride; Sharpton's new hair makes me hot for some (affirmative) action; and even Kerry has a certain Boris Karloff-y goth appeal that could be sexy after a few cocktails. (His wife, though, simply has to lose that sash on her shmatte.)
But my Joe-mentum is slowing down, so let me quickly needle you with a reminder of my recent item about a weird ex-superstar who had to be seen by a doctor after having taken too much MD Contin (a prescribed morphine drug) mixed with booze. Praise be to Jesus juice.
SPECIAL TO THE WEB: Boy oh boy, but Boy George really holds a grudge. Hes still so fighting mad at Taboo producer Rosie ODonnell (they clashed over what was needed to save the show, which is closing on February 8) that he didn't show up this Monday or Tuesday for the cast album recording! Apparently they missed him blind. But defenders say George will eventually show up and do his thing, and his behavior hasn't constituted any kind of boycott; he's simply a recording artist and needs to do his taping separately.