After conducting a thorough scientific evaluation (involving an array of test tubes and beakers, a Bunsen burner, and some heavy duty tongs) of Fleetwood Mac's 17 studio albums, I've concluded that the veteran Anglo-American band's music is 8 percent classic and 92 percent booooring. You may or may not agree, but it's hard to dispute the fact that the band itself is overwhelmingly dull. Drummer Mick Fleetwood? He might look like a cross between Jethro Tull dude and Hulk Hogan, but otherwise, he's boring. Bassist John McVie? He sets a new standard for boring bass players — you wouldn't know him if he came up to you on a well-lit street, announced "I am John McVie from Fleetwood Mac and I'm here to kill you," and then started stabbing you with the corner of a Tango in the Night jewelcase. Christine McVie? She's so boring, she's been out of the band for more than a decade and nobody even noticed. Lindsey Buckingham? Okay, he plays that cool-looking guitar with his fingers and seems like he could throw a pretty decent tantrum. But other than that? Zzzzzzzz . . .
However, Phoenix native Stevie Nicks? Now she is interesting! In fact, she's so interesting that Lindsay Lohan has been trying to purchase the rights to Stevie's life story and play her in a movie. Nicks finds that notion atrocious, recently telling the New York Times, "Over my dead body. She needs to stop doing drugs and get a grip. Then maybe we'll talk." Are you kidding, Stevie? She's perfect! In fact, we can just imagine a scene from the proposed film (which is even funnier if you imagine Christian Bale as Lindsey Buckingham and Seth Rogen as the roadie cast alongside Miss Lohan):
(Dressing room — Stevie Nicks, covered in scarves and shawls but naked from the waist down, stands in the corner of the room while a man kneels behind her. The door flies open and Lindsey Buckingham storms in.)
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Fleetwood Mac is scheduled to perform Sunday, May 24.
Lindsey: What the hell is going on?
Stevie: Nothing! Get out of here!
L: Stevie, turn around. Is that . . . Is that a straw sticking out of your ass?!
[Stevie puts her head in her hands and begins to cry.]
S: It won't work anymore!
L: What won't work anymore?
S: The coke! I have a hole in my nose! It needs to go up my ass.
L: Up your ass? What the fuck are you doing? And who the hell is this?!
S: That's one of our roadies, Bill.
[Bill waves sheepishly.]
S: Bill has to get it up there. I can't do it myself, for chrissakes.
L: [glares at Bill] Ohhh, good for you! And how was it?
B: It was okay . . .
L: Are you out of your fucking mind?
B: Dude, I had to do it. She's a witch, man. Everyone knows she's a witch. She said she would cast a spell on me and my dick would shrivel up. I had no choice.
[Stevie begins to sob even louder.]
L: A witch? You actually believe that witch crap?! [Bill shrugs.] For fuck's sake, do you realize what will happen if this gets out?
S: [begins to scream] Nothing, Lindsey, nothing will happen! Or maybe it will! Everyone will talk about it and we'll become more interesting and more mythical and a real band that will last forever!
L: You fucking amateur! You're ruining everything! First you go off and screw Don Henley and you destroy our relationship, and now you're destroying our future as a band! I want to live off Rumours and re-release and re-release it and tour behind it until I am 90. But now we'll be laughingstocks when Bill here goes and tells everybody about this. We're finished!
S: Well, what are we supposed to do?
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L: We have to kill him.
[Bill's eyes bug out, and he bolts for the door and runs out of the room.]
L: Dammit, get back here!