OK, if you’re me you’re officially OK with being seen crying to hardcore sensitive films like “Crossroads“, but if you’re Zak Tell, the singer of Clawfinger, you’re hardcore, you’re so cool, you’re the best, and you’re writing stuff like this:

You’re just another soldier and you’re doing the dying
You’re a symbol of a nation so boy stop crying

That’s pretty emo. How about this, then:

I’m not afraid of competition cos I’m know that I’m best
And you haven’t got a chance to even pass my little test
Even if you wanted to you couldn’t pay the price
There ain’t no room for losers in my perfect paradise

God damn! Then, how come WTPA’s found rumours spreading, saying that Mr. Tell is:

* afraid of going outside in case it’s too cold
* crying to “Brokeback Mountain”
* collecting My Little Ponies
* a forum member of the following site

Rumours are saying that he also uses band-aids after he cuts himself while making emo food. Damn! When will this stop? We’re keeping our ear to the ground, people, and will keep you posted if anything happens. In the meantime, here’s a fresh copy of the above picture that the band’s publicist forgot to censor before we got hold of it!

In a series of startling discoveries regarding Swedish pop-band Those Dancing Days, we’ve just found out that Rebecka, the guitarist, can’t tell left from right.

When working at a secret location, her brother asked her to fill a coffee-grinder to her left with new beans. She then pointed at the right. Her brother was appalled. WTPA was shocked.

How will this affect her playing? Future gigs? Their recent nomination for Newcomer Of The Year @ P3 Guld 2008? Will she transform into Yngwie? Only time can tell. Until then, we’ll just have to see. Good luck, Those Dancing Days. Good luck.

I won’t even comment on Amy Winehouse’s acceptance speech at the 2007 EMA’s other than saying it was the best of the bunch that I heard – or, rather, didn’t hear – but here’s to Blake, sporting his old hat yet again at said event.

Yes. He’ll never change. We understand Amy’s grimace of disbelief. We’ve covered this before, right here.

Wonderful singer Amy Winehouse has a boyfriend.

Kids, here’s a fairytale for you.

His name is Blake.

They are in love.

See? They are. Ready for the next, mind-boggling part of the tale? Here it comes.

Blake has a hat.

Emphasis being a hat. Not several. Not even two. You want proof? Blakka, blakka, here come now!

Exhibit A. No, Amy’s hair isn’t simply styled like that. It’s assuming battle formation to snatch the hat, walk across The Shire, past Sauron’s army, kill Gollum and throw the hat into the fiery pit of Mount Doom. As if you didn’t know.

Exhibit B. Fervent proof that the hat is cramping Blake’s head as much as his style. No, that’s not Blake’s expression caught in a bad frame. Neither is he trying to act zombie to avoid being spotted. This is apparently The Gods of Fashion trying to mush his brains as punishment for unleashing that ancient curse upon us.

Exhibit C. No, you’re not the first to consider commenting this post with old hat. Just don’t.

Exhibit D. When the crowds were shouting Blake, take it off, they were referring to the obelisk forever residing on your head, ffs!!1

Exhibit E. Taken just before Amy decided to backhand Blake into the ground for being The Fashion Antichrist. The FBI, KGB, Interpol, BBQ Our analysts have spent days just analysing this picture and came to the conclusion that the following dialogue must have taken place:

Blake: Dear, don’t I just look dashing in this hat?
Amy: Why didn’t I leave him when I could? Oh, of course, honey! Peachy keen, heh!
Blake: Cupcake, I love you.
Amy: I love you too, sweetheart.
Blake: Cutiepea, to prove my love, I’m gonna wear this hat forever.
Here’s where the picture was snapped.
Amy: [backhand-bitchslaps Blake]

End of story? Hell no.

In order to cut Blake some slack, we’ve uncovered a photo of his great-great-great-great grandfather to show that this type of malign anti-fashion sense has gone down in his family forever.

OK, Blake, so your family’s cultural tendency is to wear hats forever, but this doesn’t cut you any slack. Blake? Blake! For f**k’s sake, break with the old tradition and simply unwear it! It’ll be like a load off your head, promise. Please? Pretty, please?

We’ll be following you closely now that you know about us, Blake. Consider this a warning.