Thankfully, some things never change, and New Year's Eve will always be the night folks make fanciful boobs of themselves. Not only did the brethren o' the boobs blacken the eye of a local drummer just because he dared to cross the street in front of a Range Rover, they managed to trash an entire reunion show. See, the lovely Libby thought it would be a fine idea to gather the Vaccines for a reunion at Al's, her bar in Ye Old-ee Town-ee, otherwise known as Beautiful Ballard, otherwise known to we city dwellers as "that place in the country." Lovely Libby also thought it would be a fine idea to call the reunion "When Hell Freezes Over" and charge absolutely nothing for her night of entertainment and revelry. And since Al's is a quiet, neighborhood kind of place, who needs big burly bouncers, or even a doorman for that matter? Apparently Al's does, at least when the Vaccines are playing for free, because people went apeshit. Says Libby: "The club was [at] capacity and it took four jerks to ruin it for everybody." Isn't that always the way? Singer Slim played bouncer for a while, pleading repeatedly throughout the band's set for everyone to take it down a few notches. (Earlier in the evening someone had asked the singer, who is missing several teeth and looks so authentically punk rock that he almost approaches parody, whether he was "wearing a costume." Hee!) An extremely drunk woman was cut off by a bartender, but of course wouldn't take no for an answer. So after she rallied her idiot friends around her, she put her fist through a window--a particular shame because the window had been in place since the bar first opened nearly 50 years ago and was an intricate example of times-gone-by craftsmanship. Ms. Drunkypants has agreed to pay for the window, but, like your dignity, things like that just can't be replaced. In any event, the bar ran out of tap beer, and Libby proudly claims to have rung in "the biggest bar tab in two years"--exactly how long she's owned the place. ("Maybe because it was free," she reflected after the dust had cleared.) "Next year if the Vaccines agree to do another reunion show, I'll charge 50 bucks and hand out bowls of chili or something."

And speaking of celebrations and (fake) boobs, of course it wouldn't be a new year if there weren't some sort of Courtney Love chicanery to report. In a big switcheroo, she's suing someone for being a psychotic pain in the ass. It seems the ex-wife of Love's boyfriend is seeking a little payback for Love's wrecking of her family homestead. The tawdry details are as follows (with only a teensy bit of editorializing from me, I promise): Love stole a husband, a husband who just happened to be a bigwig at her label, Geffen Records. That this affair began around the time that the label filed suit against Hole for not holding up its end of a recording contract may or may not be a coincidence. Anyhoo, the spurned wife then allegedly began to elicit revenge by, according to Love's Dream Team, threatening to burn down Love's house, planting cocaine in her car, and spying on her. Court papers also say that the former wife ran over Love's foot with a Volvo, causing Love to lose a movie role. Love, with her inimitable crust, is seeking $1.5 million in damages.