We’d like to start with a public service announcement for alert loyal CB readers who haven’t yet seen Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Be forewarned: Not only are there no tigers, there are no dragons either (though they might well have been hiding). Don’t believe the hype, kids: Ang Lee remains the dullest director this side of Michael Apted, and his so-called romantic magnum opus is little more than a faux-action pic for Capitol Hill chicks and their sissymary artfag boyfriends. It’s like the Queens of the Stone Age album, which is metal for those very same folks! The truth is Dude, Where’s My Car? is the Culture Bunker’s pick for the Finest Film of the Year 2000, with the possible exception of Road Trip and that Iranian flick in which the thief befriends the little orphan boy. For those of you who’d like to check out a true masterpiece of HK cinema, do yourself a favor and get the new DVD release of Tsui Hark‘s stunningly brilliant Once Upon a Time in China. It’s so great that you’ll want to watch it again an hour later!

Forgive us if we can’t muster up a sufficient amount of outrage at the fact that Courtney Love’s record industry weasel boyfriend’s ex-wife is “stalking” her. Heck, where does she find the time? She’s got kids to raise. The ex-wife we mean—not Courtney. She’s got nothing but time on her hands, though she will be working with Ian McCulloch on his upcoming solo album. In exchange, Mac’ll have the new Hole record written in time for Christmas. . . .

The CB’s old Canadian pals pop sensation Chantal Kreviazuk and her husband, Maida Vale, lead singer for Our Lady Peace, have announced that they’ll be doing some charity work with War Child—just one short week after a corruption scandal saw Pavarotti and David Bowie cutting all ties with the charity. As our friend Red down at the PriceMart would say, “Dumbasses!”

Whenever we see a picture of three guys with the caption “R.E.M.,” all we can think is “No, they’re not.” . . . On a related note, Jason Newsted is leaving Metallica, but hey, it’s not like he was the real bass player. Melissa Auf der Maur is available, but we think she might be a Napster fan. . . . Apparently Elastica are moving to NYC at the same time Michael is set to make his big return. That friggin’ Justine keeps stealing our ideas: First we start a Fall cover band. . . .

Have you seen those Vaniqa commercials? We’re not particularly squeamish, but we think women’s facial depilatories should not be advertised during any show that men might possibly be watching. Put ’em on Oprah or One Life to Live or Once and Again. . . . Wait a sec, we watch Once and Again, but you know what we mean. . . . Come to think of it, as a public service to those of you who aren’t watching the current Best Show on Television, here’s a brief summary of last week’s Once and Again: Act I—Pain, embarrassment, and loneliness; Act II—More pain, a little humiliation; Act III—More loneliness, pain again; Act IV—Pain, alienation, sex. Good show. . . .

In business news, Domino’s has opened a franchise in far away Sri Lanka, thus expanding the evil dominion of fake American chain pizza even further. The good news is Arthur C. Clarke can finally get the Deep Dish Pepperoni Feast and an 11-year-old boy delivered right to his door in under 30 minutes. . . . To relieve some of the pressure of this hustle-bustle world, McDonald’s recently unveiled their new Speedpass. Of course, your money is the only thing that passes quickly. The food still stays in your large intestine for 14 days. . . .

If “President” W actually read books, you just know he’d be a fan of LaHaye and Jenkins. Fortunately, he doesn’t read anything but SI for Kids. . . . Yet another reason we’re psyched for the XFL: “I’m going to find that one delightful little hole you girls have and open it up,” says the league’s director of cheerleading in the new Men’s Journal. We can’t wait to find out which hole. . . . Who cares if John Ashcroft doesn’t like dancing? We’re not going to hold that against him. Brandon Walsh didn’t dance either. . . .

And then!?

E-mail Sqwubbsy@aol.com.