Starfucking 101. Or, Spreading 'Em for a Story.

My friends and I play a game (when drunk, natch) called "Rock Stars You Would Sleep With". The point of this game is not to fantasize about banging Bono, because 1. Everyone would bang Bono and 2. He wouldn't touch you with his ten foot dick. The point is to discover just how far into the depths of shame you'd plummet in order to allow your naughty parts to rub up against greatness. A fun addendum is to determine the Rock Star sons and daughters that you'd similarly fuck, to even be one degree away from the genitalia of greatness (these are usually hypothetical sons and daughters of legal age). Some think it's sad; I'm just happy to have some extra time to think about whether I'm really willing to let Art Garfunkel's son stick it in me in order to get closer to the man who played bass harmonica on "Bridge Over Troubled Water".

Guess which one he is.

Anyway, it's a good game for discovering new things about yourself, and for discovering just how big of liars your friends really are. Any man that claims he'd kick Madonna out of bed for any reason other than abject fear is telling tales. Usually you have to start off easy, to lure in the friends and the coworkers still holding on to vestiges of their innocence, the kind that still insist they only sleep with people they care about:

Bruce Springsteen
Kurt Cobain
1999 Britney
Beyonce
Rufus Wainwright (for the queens)

Then, as the whiskey starts flowing and people are reminded that sex is fun, you can step it up a notch, and start throwing out a few outliers- I'm not talking Iggy Pop or anything, but maybe a couple musicians who did a little experimentation with wigs and eyeliner in the 70s. You know, get a feel for who's got the potential to be dirty:

Gene Simmons
Mick Jagger
Debbie Harry
Pat Benatar
David Bowie (for the queens)

By this point, people should be feeling pretty comfortable, both with each other and the fact that they're no better than prostitutes, just poorer. I usually find this happens about four whiskeys or one Motley Crue member in. Now, it's time to truly separate the men and women from the starfuckers:

Axl Rose
Billy Joel
Enya
Janis Joplin

I'd do her just to hear what moans sound like in Elfish.

Once you've weeded through your "fun" friends, you can move onto "story sex", in which there's no real debate about the utter lack of sex appeal of the musician in question, it's just a matter of whether one is willing to drop trou just to be able to say he/she did. If you have any friends that tend to play along the border of sluttiness (ie- they're insisting they'll only bone Pete Townshend if he buys them dinner), you can throw in a little qualifier or two, such as, they have to sing their hit song during the act itself.

Any of the Barenaked Ladies
The Fat Guy in Tenacious D
Shane McGowan
Cece Peniston
Nina Simone (if she'll sing Sugar in My Bowl during)
Andrew Lloyd Webber (if he'll compose "Music of the Night" during )

Now that several of your more tenuous friendships have resolved themselves (suddenly, and, most likely, self-righteously), there's one final step. It may seem like you can judge the relative looseness of one's legs based purely upon numbers, but the best way to tell who's truly a little whore is not quantity of legends fucked, but degrees of proximity to legend fucked:

Moby's Sound Mixer
The Guy Who Rescuscitates Keith Richards
U2's Merch Guy
The Woman in Arrested Development Who Yells
Yoko Ono

This is Bob Dylan's electric toothbrush. Do with it what you will.

Make sure to write down everyone's answers so you can use them against them in the future. Also, if you've got any fuckbuddies in the crowd, it's a good idea to start double bagging it.