House of Chicken went to the American Music Awards. Okay, we didn't really go, 'cept in our living room. If you miss American Bandstand, this is the closest thing to it, a parade of all your favorite top pop hip hop cream 'o the crop soupa starz.

Hosted by who we at first thought was Ice Cube, and then we decided it was Ice T, we finally realized about 2/3 through the program that it was, in fact, a beefed-up middle-aged version of LL Cool J. Okay, okay, the guy's probably half my little brother's age, but he's still much more TV-fied than we remembered. His co-host, Brittney Spears, managed to change outfits 'leventy million times, each one cooler than the last. Believe it or not, she wasn't the youngest pop star there, Snoop Doggy Dogg, n/k/a Snoop Dogg, showed up with Little Bowser, some 8-year-old rapper. There was also a 6-ish country singer and another little kid whose name we forget but who screams at the top of her lungs some unintelligible lyrics. It's as if Mariah Carey ran a training school for girl pop singers with talent being the least of its requirements. All we know is the dog's ears turned backward and flattened against his head during her performance. Not a good longevity indicator. The last time this happened was with a Fred Lane & the Kooks record. Definitely not a good sign.

We reveled in the montage of Janet Jackson's video career, comparing each plastic surgery with the last. Here in Lost Angeles, you become an expert at recognizing plastic surgery. We know, we know, a dubious talent, but one that's popular 'round the water cooler at our County of Los Angeles McJob. Perhaps we're merely consumed with our unladylike envy of the bevy of flat bellies and outfits we couldn't wear even if we were thin enough. There's something unnerving about a belly shirt on anybody over 19, which reminds us of this lady we saw at the mall wearing a mega-gym outfit that barely covered her naughty bits. Zesty, as they say, but then it was clear she was at least 60. Icky. Not Zesty.

Speaking of 60, we were also enchanted by a "live" performance by Aerosmith Lite. "Half the substance! Less filling!" Hailed here as perhaps the greatest rock 'n' roll band in the history of music…..puhleeze. Steven Tyler has had his day as sexiest guy of the moment, but is there anybody outside of long distance truck drivers and career warehouse workers who've owned an Aerosmith record, excuse me, CD, since Toys in the Attic ? I always knew there would come a day when bands like the Rolling Stones and Aerosmith would turn into Vegas Elvis. That day has come. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

And if all this great entertainment wasn't enough, the show closed with a performance by Marilyn Manson, who we thought had better sense. All on ABC. Disney's ABC, we might add. Marilyn Manson. We watched aghast as he/she/it strode right past Ed McMahon, who patted him on the shoulder. Ah, Hollywood. Too bad Marilyn missed out on that Star Search career jump-start, it would've been a nice compliment to the Alanis Morrisette/Brittney Spears/Sawyer Brown trilogy.

Speaking of which, we never miss Your Big Break (syndicated TV, broadcast here in LA Saturday afternoon at naptime on UPN), our very favorite show where ordinary folks embarrass themselves (and the human race) by impersonating (poorly) 80's pop stars like Boy George and Michael Jackson, punctuated with Real World style video clips of how they made it to Your Big Break. Those high-minded folks who advocate "kill your tv" have no idea the fun they're missing. Best viewed with a 6-pack (make that a 12 pack) of Pabst Blue Ribbon and Little Debbies. Mmmmm.

We love Brittney Spears, 'cos she likes to sing naked. Mmmmm.