You wondered! I wondered! Indeed, everyone wondered! Would infamous h-mo Lance Bass make—gasp!—a cameo appearance at his scorching boyfriend's various local events last week? (Would he?) And will his coming out eventually set a precedent that will cause every other boybander in history to finally admit what big turdpounders they all are?

Well, yes. And, sadly, no.

Lance was indeed on the arm of said scorching boyfriend last week—at the Broadway Grill, Bailey/Coy Books, and, dear Jesus, Club Lagoon. Which, yes, has a car on its roof. I can't figure that shit out either. Lance and boyfriend were kissy and handholdy, and "hot." All other boybanders remained in the closet. That is all.

Elsewhere: I've come to realize that I failed to grasp the true essence of Tom Cruise entirely. That is, of course, until NOW.

He's a fucking genius!

I just YouTubed that VERBOTEN South Park episode; the one that Tom Cruise and his Scientological overlords used their scary mind powers to make practically evaporate because it gave away all their secrets. I missed it the first time because shut up. But now all that Scientology bullshit makes perfect sense! I can't give too much away here (they'll kill me), but I want it known that I fully support Tom and What's-her-ass and their little bastarda—and the cadre of brainwashed alien ghosts that control their minds, respectively. Also, I think the mean Catholic priest that refuses to let them get married in his fancy-schmancy church is a jackass, because, well, priests screw little boys, so you'd think they wouldn't be so judgmental about letting divorced Scientologists marry in their fancy churches. So screw him. And remember: Eep-Op-Ork-Ah-Ah.

That means I love you.

In thank God something else: An emotionally damaged reader shared with us details of her horrific recent collision with a ghastly and rather persnickety Old Widow Cobain during her now infamous book signing. (It's the burning midgets I'll never forget.) She also pondered from whence Courtney's snatchy general contempt for everything sprang. Today we have some answers. According to sources I can't be bothered to mention, Courtney just discovered that various hangers-on have allegedly ripped her off for $20 million. Also, relatives have begun fighting for custody of something called "Frances Bean," for obvious reasons. Ergo, Courtney's relatively grumpy britches at that book signing. Another someone wrote to ask why the hell I'm writing about Courtney Love when she doesn't even live in Seattle anymore, and to her I can answer, because please go to hell and suck on a pig's asshole. Thank you.

Lastly: Ryan Phillippe and Kevin Federline both dumped their wives to become my new manbitches. But don't mention it. They'll just lie. As USUAL.