If I was in a committed relationship with Steven Tyler, I wonder if he'd ask me to pour him a nice, soothing formaldehyde bath?

Aerosmith always said "sex" to me. Play one of their songs and parts of my clothing were almost guaranteed to start falling off...with or without the help of some alcohol.

Lately, though, I'm beginning to wonder if all the stories are true.  Perhaps they, along with The Rolling Stones and Ozzy Osbourne, have made some sort of unholy pact with the devil. Okay, admittedly, having a HOLY pact with the devil might be kind of difficult, but stay with me here.

Think about it: don't they all seem just a tad bit like the undead? Leathery, gaunt, at times mumbling and shuffling about like it's time for their 5 o'clock brain feeding...but then put a spotlight and a microphone in front of them? Suddenly their pelvises are thrusting like they've had an overdose of Viagra.

I'm thinking about getting the folks from Buffy or Angel or possibly Supernatural (since bafflingly, it is still on the air) to check it out. At the very least they have to be feasting on the souls on a few of those giddy groupies that make it back stage...