Thou Shalt Worship False Idols

Tonite at El Guapo Mexican Cantina, the youth of Hollywood sounds their collective barbaric yawp to the warbly tune of a Red Bull-and-Vodka-soaked “I Will Survive”. That’s right, at 8pm in the bloody beating heart o’ Hollywood, the Wheelhouse presents “Industry Idol”, the next in a long line of ill-advised gatherings staged in order to bring the self-proclaimed “future of Hollywood” together in an orgiastic outpouring of insincerity, booger sugar and pure Rock n’ Roll magic.

But wait! This time it’s different! Unless I’m mistaken (or already tanked) this masturbatory debacle is to benefit charity! And not some bullshit LA “Build Homes for Unemployed Pet Psychics” charity either. A real honest-to-God, helping-people-in-Africa type charity. And, furthermore, it’s a charity that will actually be assisted by one of tonite’s attendees; not for the purposes of a publicist-staged photo-op involving the gentle wiping of flies from the lips of starving children before stealing back into a custom temperature-controlled, chauffered H2 with 20 inch rims, Bose audio system and built-in Cheeto dispenser, but because she actually cares about the cause! What the fuck is this town coming to?

So come on down, have a few drinks, mock your peers and see Bob (pictured below as the unwitting host of a rousing game of Human Jenga) bring the house down with a very special rendition of an old Fenway favorite. Not, not Tessie. The other one.

Trust me. You won’t be disappointed.