We interrupt this blog about Hilary Duff, "Napoleon Dynamite" and Britney Spears to make this simple request:

Can we stop with the g.d. Associated Press reports about C-list celebrities and their views on Bush or Kerry?

Linda Ronstadt, Whoopi Goldberg and Bonnie Raitt all have been singled out in the press recently for their anti-Bush views. So, who's next? Bonnie Hunt? Bonnie Franklin? Will there be a Republican boycott of "One Day At a Time" reruns on TV Land? Is anyone safe from this witch hunt?

I don't blame Republicans so much as lazy journalists for this media shitstorm over Linda Ronstadt's comments during her show at the Aladdin Hotel. The casino's president had an axe to grind with Ronstadt, exaggerated the anarchy of "drinks being thrown, posters being torn down" after she praised Michael Moore, and he turned it into a great publicity stunt for his financially strapped hotel. Good for him.

Meanwhile, the AP reporter (no doubt anxious for some pickup in the New York Post) gobbled it up and, under a tight deadline, didn't bother checking to see if any of this really happened. Some concert goers later said the response was a mix of boos and cheers, pretty much what you hear every time some star rants about politics onstage. Big effing deal.

A similar incident happened last year, when an Associated Press reporter described a near-riot atmosphere during a Pearl Jam show, when Eddie Vedder "impaled" a mask of George W. Bush on his microphone stand. And just like Ronstadt, it later turned out that the crowd reaction was exaggerated.

In conclusion, AP should stick to what it knows best: Stories about chickens disrupting traffic and barracuda attacks.

Some of you may know the vague connection between Fresyes and our favorite New York band, Tear Us Apart, so it's a bittersweet weekend for the Governor as the rock supergroup officially bids farewell. One guitarist, Rob, is moving to deep New Jersey, and the remaining members plan to take time off to write some brand new music and, in the words of U2, "dream it up all over again." (Bono, a true master of cheese.)

Unlike Metallica, TUA opted against hiring a group therapist. So you can watch them work out their issues in public at Saturday's farewell show at Trash (the Williamsburg joint formerly known as Luxx). More details are here.

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.

Update from yesterday's post: For those of you who haven't seen "Napoleon Dynamite," this is Napoleon and his nerdy-ass brother, Kip, who enjoys chat-room dates with his girlfriend LaFawnduh and may one day master the art of Rex Kwon Do.

Kip is also actor Aaron Ruell, who apparently was born and raised in Fresno, one faithful reader informs us. Ruell, a 2000 graduate of Brigham Young, teamed up with director Jared Hess and star Jonathan Heder (also both from BYU) for "Napoleon," and he's freaking brilliant in it.

1. Thanks to Napoleon Dynamite, my new favorite animal is a Liger -- half lion, half tiger with magical powers.

2. Fellow redneck Amy Langfield points out that "Fres-NO" is mentioned in the new David Spade Capital One commercials, but I must have missed it while thinking about what a pathetic career move it is for Spade to drag out his old "phone guy" routine for a credit-card ad. Hey Dave, it was funny the first time I saw it … in 1993.

3. More proof that Britney's gone nuts.

4. If GG Allin were alive today, he would be crapping himself: Our current 'hood (off Avenue B, where Allin played his last show and later died of a heroin overdose) is going to be home to a new batch of luxury lofts, which are selling for $545,000 to $745,000. As Curbed notes, those lofts better have some thick soundproofing, because they'll be living right across the street from a very busy firehouse.

5. You don't have to be a Metallica fan to enjoy "Some Kind of Monster," the insane new documentary that shows the band going into therapy with a "performance coach" and James Hetfield battling alcoholism while trying to record their last album (which sucked, but that's not the point). What's most amazing is not only that Metallica was willing to document how screwed up (and filthy rich) they have become, but that the group decided to venture deep into their personal histories to sort out their various ego problems. Best scene in the movie: The therapist bringing in former Metallica guitarist-turned-Megadeth frontman Dave Mustaine, who nearly comes to tears while confronting Lars Ulrich about getting kicked out of the band in 1982 because of his own alcoholism. All together now: "Hello me, Meet the real me."