[Photos: Getty and WENN]
Fug File: Wango Tango
the Wikipedia compendium of past line-ups, as they are kind of brilliant time capsules of pop culture. For example, the ’98 line-up included Hootie and the Blowfish, Vonda Shepard (!), Paula Cole and Meredith Brooks, Olivia Newton John (???) and N-freaking SYNC, who were not even the headliners (that honor went to Mariah Carey, which is fair). 1999 had — among others — Ricky Martin and Britney, a girl I’ve never heard of who doesn’t even have a Wiki page anymore and who therefore isn’t even officially alive, and Fab of Milli Vanilli in the midst of his failed attempt to be a solo artist. The following year, N*SYNC headlined (that may have been the year I personally saw N*SYNC at the Rose Bowl and had an argument with the 12 year old in front of me about whether or not JC was my boyfriend or hers [I let her win when I realized what for me was "an argument" was for her DEADLY SERIOUS. I realized this when she asked me if JC and I had "an anniversary" (we do not).]) and there were two bands I’ve literally never heard of, plus Sisqo (remember when you couldn’t get in your car without hearing “The Thong Song”? Personally, I am much more a fan of its contemporary “Hot In Herre”), and J. Simp…backed up by Nick Lachey. You guys, that page is a total wormhole and you should go procrastinate there. Get ready to say things like, “OMG REMEMBER O-TOWN?” And then come back and look at all the fools Hologram Me is going to be waxing rhapsodic about in 2022.
“Hola, killers. Think twice before you go squish to the spider on your bathroom tub. When you see it with its tiny ocho piernas, you stop and you think of JENNIFER LOPEZ. And then you will let it live. Because I am about love, lovers. Love and Love? and LOVERS. VIVA EL SPIDER! You will not just let it live, you will let it live la vida loca. You will let it live in your bedroom. You will name it Jennifer Lopez. You will give it clothes and a weave and eight tiny Louboutins and you will let it cover you in webs and throw cocktail parties where it serves martinis out of thimbles and you will say to yourselves, ‘Ay, this spider is touched by an angel,’ and then I will fly out of the sky and kiss your head and you will not get termites.
“Or, kill it. Whatever! I will not be wearing this tomorrow. Besos!”