Pardon me, but does this story sound like the plot to a horribly corny Phil Spector song - you know, like "Leader of The Pack," or "He Hit Me And It Felt Like A Kiss"?

It's been about six months since the bizarre Lana Clarkson case broke into entertainment headlines, with legendary madman record producer Phil Spector questioned in the actress' shooting death at Spector's home. Spector reportedly told police that Clarkson (whom he had met hours before at a Hollywood club and invited to his home) became distraught after they had an argument. Clarkson (according to Phil) grabbed his (ever-present) gun, kissed it, and killed herself.

Riiiiiiight.

Finally, after months of investigation, Los Angeles police say it wasn't an accident, and it wasn't suicide. Looks like Spector may be taking a trip to the Big Rock Candy Mountain...

...or, "Old Sparky"? Nah. They don't fry 'em in California anymore. Bad for the arteries.

On a much cheerier note, today marks the birthday of one of my favorite recording artists...although she hasn't released an album in some time, her new CD called Headlock should make its splash any time soon...Joan Jett turns (cough cough, ahem) today.

I love her reply to a interviewers' question about how many candles she puts on her cake:

"Never ask a woman her age...but I'm younger than you think."

She and her band, the Blackhearts, are still actively touring the states and abroad, and are one of the most popular performers on the USO military circuit these days.

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