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Thursday, July 29, 2010
©Scott Weiner 2010
Steven Adler, once of Guns n' Roses, now of Adler's Appetite. He must be craving pens.
Today's the day that Icepack online drops and honestly where else are you going to find Diplo and Harry Jay Katz in the same column? Nowhere. Vortex-urally speaking, though, it's the WHOWHATWHERE section that tripped me up. By sheer accident, Back to the Future II-like, Icepack went backward this week to a mass-loving minute he mostly missed: 1989. I never saw the unfathomably popular Saved by the Bell and though I caught Guns 'n' Roses opening for-and-being-more-awesome than Aerosmith, I didn't get the rise of Appetite of Destruction. Yet here we are on Tuesday watching Steven Adler twirl his drums while some screechy singer yowls "Welcome to the Jungle." It wasn't Axl though. It was the guy in the stickman's new band, Adler's Appetite, (co-starring Chip Z'Nuff, man. CHIP Z'NUFF) who we caught strolling and smoking in the kitchen of the Mill Creek Tavern where they played.
© Scott Weiner 2010
Adler's Appetite with Rick Stitch on lead vocals, Alex Grossi (Quiet Riot) on guitar, Michael Thomas on guitar, Chip Z'nuff (Enuff Z'Nuff) on bass and Steven Adler on drums and percussion.
The next night there was ScreechDustin Diamond to porn and Celebrity Fit Club aficionados - from Saved by the Bell at Cavanaugh's. Diamond could've had a different life. Consider this: Diamond's Bell co-star Mario Lopez was in this column a week earlier because of his hosting duties at the Borgata. Hey, it's not Clinton wedding opulent, but it's a start. Shift to the Deck and there's Diamond talking up his referee-ing gig for Damon Feldman's Celebrity Wrestling Big Bang event with fighters Susan Finkelstein (of Phillies sex-for-tix scandal fame) and Devon James (a Tiger Woods mistress). (Remember last time Ms. James hit Philly?) Somewhere, something in Diamond must've died.
© Scott Weiner 2010
Hardcore Phillies fan Susan Finklestein, Dustin Diamond (aka, Screech from Saved by the Bell) and Tiger Woods' former paramour Devon James.
Closer to the 21st Century, there was my Aretha Franklin sighting-from-afar at the Four Seasons, the blab that Real Housewives of New York's Alex McCord had an early morning nosh at Fork and the still unconfirmed-but-fun rumor that Michael Jackson's personal doc Conrad Murray ate heartily at Barclay Prime, while all doctors in the M.J. death probe were freed from any charges of wrongdoing. Eat up, Nero.
Posted by A.D. Amorosi @ 5:11 PM  Permalink | File Under: Ice Cubes | | Music | | TV | Post a comment
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Featuring everything from event roundups to concert reviews and sex talk, City Paper's Critical Mass is a space for off-the-wall coverage of Philly's A&E scene. If you have tips or suggestions, email josh.middleton@citypaper.net.

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