Based on Halen's expression in this photo, there are only five things he could possibly looking at: 1) Debbie Gibson; 2) a velocitraptor ripping the flesh from the underbelly of a still thrashing pterodactyl (I don't really know how a velociraptor would actually catch a flying pterodactyl, but my guess is it would have something to do with a bottle rocket and a can of hairspray); 3) his daddy winning a spelling bee by correctly spelling "floccinaucinihilipilification" (it means "an estimation of something as worthless," and, interestingly, it doesn't contain the letter E -- the most common letter in the English language; or 4) NKOTB.

NKOTB, of course, stand for New Kids on the Block, the first crummy boy band I can remember (well, except the Bee Gees, but it's probably more accurate to call them a crummy girl band). And since NKOTB's late-80s heyday, we've been cursed (I think the curse was pronounced by Pat Robertson after he lost the Republican primaries in 1988 -- thanks a lot, Pat) with a steady stream of equally crummy boy bands (except Hanson -- I still hum "Mmm Bop" to myself several times a month).

Jordan, Joey, Donny, Hermie, and Ulysses (I'm fairly proud of myself for remembering three of the five) dominated the airwaves for I think half a school year when I was in 5th grade (it's quite remarkable how often I manage to use parenthetical asides). They sang that sweet song "Cover Girl," but I remember hearing it on the radio and being unsure as to whether the New Kids were singing it or whether Christie Brinkley was singing it. It's forgivable, I think -- Brinkley was on all the Cover Girl commercials and the New Kids sounded like girls. It was a confusing time.

I'm really kind of depressed that I'm doing a whole post on NKOTB.

So, did anyone know that these guys are actually in the midst of a comeback tour? Maybe they spent all their money on baseball cards and Hubba Bubba. For whatever reason though, NKOTB is on tour. I'm mildly surprised they still call themselves NKOTB, seeing as how they've been on the block for like 22 years. Not a lot of turnover on that block, I guess. Maybe it's like a block in Arkansas where your daddy lived on that block, and your grandpappy lived on that block, and they can napalm the place before you'll move off that block. And you look across the street at those five rather effeminate men living in the old Lancaster house that Edna's traitorous son sold just before he dumped her in a nursing home and moved off to Jersey with that hussy city girl he met at that dang liberal college up in Chicago and you can't help but cuss a swear at those NKOTB.