1. Honestly, as if Hilary Duff didn't already provide the Governor and me with enough entertainment from her movies and music, she had to go and drop the greatest time-waster in the history of drearily slow Friday afternoons: Have Hilary call your friends. The best part is that you can have any number appear as caller ID on their cell phone. Wicked fun.

2. Plug in, turn up, and start gnashing teeth. As you know, we here at Fresyes are all about the rock. I can't sleep unless Iggy Pop sings me there. Mag Rack, an on-demand TV network, has introduced their hunt for the best guitar face. Time to start chewing nails. We can't be sure, but our guys on the inside are guessing that the winning snarl will be part Ted Nugent, part Gene Simmons, and all metal. I wonder if Fresno's Russ Parrish wants to enter his "Eddie Van Halen in the good days" look. (Missed you guys in SB last week, Russ ... kicked myself repeatedly.)

3. There's been a sighting of the real Dr. Nick from "The Simpsons." Do not have surgery in Romania.

4. Don't you just hate it when this happens ... Return to Sin City, a tribute to Gram Parsons, came through town last weekend. The lineup and music was amazing: Keith Richards, Norah Jones, Dwight Yoakam, Lucinda Williams, Steve Earle, Jim James from My Morning Jacket, Jay Farrar and more... HOWEVER. The night itself was tainted by the inebriated Polly Parsons (Gram's unfortunate offspring), who kept staggering onstage and whining into the mic after every performance: "YYew guys...thhith ith the byest day of my liiife. YOOOW!"

As it turns out, Polly is the co-owner of Sin City Marketing, the company who recently realized that the statute of limitations on exploiting a famous dead family member had expired! (Gram died in 1973.) I've never heard so many references to "business partners" at a tribute before.