I’m 28 years old, married, and I work 40 hours a week. But here I am, being forced to watch The Price Is Right Million Dollar Spectacular in primetime. This Make Me Watch TV thing was a terrible idea.

Man, Bob Barker really let himself go. Oh, that’s Drew Carey.

I miss the older style Price is Right microphone. Well, maybe “miss” is the wrong word. But the head of this new one is menacing. Ahh, here is the old one.

Sorry, sorry. The tuxedoed gentleman on stage already started a game and here I am jabbering away about microphones.

Which of these items is the half off price? Why, the I Love Lucy doll, of course. $20 was far too little for a piece of plastic with red hair. Speaking of dolls and red hair, Raggedy Ann freaks me out. Just thought you should know.

The first contestant? A loser! They are at least as low as you can feel for being bad at guessing between two random numbers. That’s pretty low.

Someone guessed 1700, followed by a 1701, then a 1702. Game show contestants are big fat jerks.

Observation? Contestants touch game show hosts a lot. I don’t think I could handle that.

Lucky $even? You know we watch to see Plinko. This contestant won a car, with a side of shrieking. I’d love to drive a car on stage. It would be nice and surreal.

To the credit of The Price Is Right, they keep things moving. There is none of the dark and dramatic pausing of modern game shows. Those pauses need to go.

Another loser. Time to spin that big wheel. I must say, I miss tacky game show sets. And old sound effects. And Hanging with Mr. Cooper. That last phrase was a lie.

I don’t think I ever knew exactly how this show worked as a kid. Perhaps I was attracted to the bright colors. Like a moth to the Technicolor flame.

I’d update you on the plot, but there isn’t any.

There is a game called Grocery Game. Hold on a second…this show is one big advertisement! An advertisement for chili con queso sauce and cars. Remember to use those items in tandem.

A very old lady just got on stage. And what could she win? Jet skis! This show is awesome. And she just won them. Those will go to good use. IN HER GRAVE!

I think Drew Cary just swore. A contestant said hi to their friends, family, and beautiful kids. Pretty sure it was a remark about his wife, or perhaps feces. Can’t pretend to know what word was cut out.

By the way, we’re on to the Showcase Showdown. The announcer just said “bling.” That means rappers can no longer use the word. Once it is heard on The Price is Right, it is dead. Culturally speaking, that is.

No million dollar winner this round, but the guy in the showcase showdown was off by $54,000 dollars. He must be buying his jewelry and RVs at the wrong place.

Lost is one of my favorite shows. I would have watched it anyway. So here this here is a bonus. Here come the spoilers.

To get off of the island, you need to go on a very specific trajectory. Even if it means flying directly into a thunderhead. Which Sayid and Desmond just did. When things went south, Desmond’s mind flashed into the future. Or the past. Then back. Then he didn’t know who Sayid was.

This flying helicopter (oh yeah, they were on a helicopter) left the island a day ago. But really they’re only 20 minutes out. Time is really messed up on the island. Or better than ever.

Surprisingly, there is an actual boat the helicopter got to it. It seems like a time wall fried Desmond’s brain, which happens to everyone now and again. He is on the boat saying he doesn’t know Sayid. And now he’s in a military campy. He’s jumping through time more than Billy Pilgrim.

Now Desmond is in a sick bay with someone suffering the same way he has. You see, some people get a little messed up when coming from and going to the island. I blame Einstein. Or Stephen Hawking. Desmond thinks it’s 1996.

Some mathy guy on the island figured Desmond is going into the past on his flashes. He gave him orders to get on a train and find him. In the past. Also, the doctor in the sick bay flipped an alarm and it took about 10 minutes for anyone to respond on the small boat. I mean, I’m lazy. But that’s really lazy.

Mathy guy seems a little Charlie Manson in the past. In the past, as an Oxford professor, he is trying to send rats through time to run races. Or run away from Rat Race. Either is a noble pursuit.

Penny, Hanso, the Black Rock. We’re getting a lot of mythology in our episode today. I forgot about most of these things. Except for Penny. Desmond won’t shut up about her.

Desmond needs a constant in his lives if he doesn’t want to have a brain aneurysm. He is broken up with Penny in the past, but needs her number so he can call her in the future. That’ll fix his brain up proper. Penny knows about the island and she has been searching for Desmond. Then they had a sweet and darling conversation before the phone batteries went dead.

A pretty good episode by my account. A lot of information about time and mysteries on the island. Hooray for Lost.

Oddly enough, Big Brother and American Idol are on at the same time on Tuesday and Wednesday. Yet Big Brother won the votes last night and American Idol won tonight. Don’t ask me why. I have no answers.

It’s ladies night on AI (that’s American Idol, but much quicker to spell). I’ve been on top of my AI watching, and it’s pretty much sucked. The auditions weren’t fantastic. Hollywood week wasn’t devastating enough. And now the finalists are all losers. At least we only have five hours a week with the losers. Wait, five hours? Screw that.

Carly is up first, and she’s singing Heart. I don’t think you can do better or worse than Heart when singing Heart. It’s not like the vocals are fantastic to begin with, and they aren’t going to get any better when anyone else sings it.

You can download the worst performance of the night on iTunes immediately after the show. In case you like to flush you money down the internet hole

Syesha is an “actress” and can cry like a baby. Which is good for a certain kind of fetishist. She sings a song called Mr. Jones. Assumedly. It isn’t the Counting Crows. Luckily.

Brooke is a beauty school drop out, a badge that is worn on her head every day. She decides to hide behind a guitar for half the song, and squeak a terrible performance out of her doughy face. Not doughy as in fat, but doughy as in white and unremarkable. Tee heeeee. The judges like it though, so what the heck do I know?

Ramiele knows how to Polynesian dance. You might remember another idol who did that. His name was Sanjaya. Oh man, I’m so bored by this show. Maybe if I press on my eyes really hard it will be like I’m watching another show.

Kristy Lee Cook, who can only be addressed by all three names, is a farm girl and tomboy. Entertainment Weekly thinks she’s going to win. I think they just like a pretty face. Which is fine, but this is a singing competition. And she doesn’t have the vocal goods. At least her hair isn’t that of a beauty school dropout.

We’re halfway through the girls tonight, but 41 minutes into the show. When the time comes, I will amass an army and wage a war against filler.

Amanda Overmyer is called original, which is odd because she is just a Janice Joplin copy cat. And now she’s doing a terrible rendition of a Kansas song. Maybe America will send her ass packing tomorrow. Wow, this was worse than karaoke. Luckily, the judges agree. And Simon trashed her stupid hair.

Alaina doesn’t like her food touching. There is no reason I need to know this. And you aren’t watching Toys. I’m hopelessly devoted to this boring and pitchy song. Or, wait, what’s the opposite of “hopelessly devote?” Maybe angrily stabbing.
By the way, Randy Jackson’s watch is huge!

Alexandrea sings some Chicago. And when I wrote “sing,” I was being generous. Very generous. Simon is being much more brutal. Fatality!

Wow, more Heart. I’ll try to understand, try to understand, try try try to understand this song choice. Better luck next time, Kady. If there is a next time.

Then Asia’h wrapped up the night. I didn’t watch, because my cat wasn’t peeing in his litter box. Seriously, cat? The plastic next the litter box? Just move over an inch! But Simon clued me in to how she was. Terrible.

Man, AI is grating on me.

If you haven’t been watching this season of Big Brother, you do not like entertainment. Yes yes, I know. That’s a sweeping generalization. But really, what are you doing? Listen, they trapped all these horrible people in one house and the constantly fight! It’s like watching hornets trapped in a jar of broken dreams.

The shows starts off where Sunday’s nomination ceremony took off. Annoying Amanda and complacent Alex are up on the block along with whoseit and whatsit. Did you know that Amanda is from Fridley, MN? That means I can drive down the street and punch her in the face when she gets back. Not that I would, but I’m close enough to.

Sheila feels shafted by Allison, which is ironic considering they both faked being lesbians. Whiny Sheila feels abandoned now that Allison is safe from going home. Hold on, Allison needs an adjective. Whiny is taken. So is annoying. Come on, thesaurus. What do you have for me? Caustic? Naw. We’ll go with irritating.

Alex and whatsit are confronting pink haired James, who isn’t taking any guff. Not that any of them would use the word “guff.” Unless they were 80. Which they are not. Which leads us into the veto competition where the houseguests fight to remove their head from the block. It’s a confusing game which is no fun to watch. And the people who didn’t need to veto won. Good work.

Things came to a head with Sheila and Allison later, when voices were raised. I actually watched this action live on the internet, and they was about a half hour longer with a lot of talk about yeast infections. Thanks, TV, for saving me from hearing about Sheila’s yeast infection again.

And that’s when the bodily waste hit the windmill. First, Allison ran to the diary room after having an allergic reaction to some unknown allergen. Her tongue was swelling, from what we heard, and they needed to use an EpiPen. And then, at the same time, Amanda fainted from a lack of sugar and started seizing.

Medical units were swooped in. Amanda was taken out on a stretcher! Everyone ends up alright and comes back to the house, but everyone is now really nice to Amanda who they hated not more than one day ago. Drama drama drama!

All in all, a great episode of Big Brother. And with less female problems than the live feeds. And that’s just fine with me.

Boy, it’s been a while. How are you doing? You look great. Niceties aside, let’s get on with the TV.

For my return to the world of television, you have chosen Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles. Just so you know how fickle I am, my Tivo recorded the first episode of this show but not the second. So I threw my hands in the air and said “screw it” and deleted the first episode.

So I was done with the show without seeing it. But here we are, watching it. Well, you might not be watching it. Not that there is anything on in the wasteland that is Monday night television. Let’s go!

As a reminder to everyone, everything here is written on the fly. Complete thoughts are such a bother, don’t you think? So as the show plays, I write.

“Previously” tells me there is a chess playing robots that can kill everybody. Or will, in the future. This show is about fighting the future, like every other show out there. Especially Golden Girls.

There is a girl cop bending metal with her hands. Until further notification, I will assume she is a robot. Oh, but she shut down the power grid to a city. That’s a specifically human trait. So, she’s a human. Wait, she punched a door in. Robot. Hold on, digging through files. Human.

So we have a robot digging through files, surprisingly slowly for a future robot, and this Sarah Condor (or something like that) taking care of her son and brother.

The FBI has the hand of a future robot. I have a hard time believing they’ll know what to do with it. Unless it has to do with illegal wire tapping. Then they’re all over it. That’s probably more the CIA’s deal.

A FBI agent who lied about having the future robot hand, from now on referred to as the FDR, is watching tapes of Sara Concord in a mental institution ranting about the future and death. And where did he file the FDR? In his own freezer, of course. Don’t mistake it for a pot pie or it will kill you.

Ceira Konner broke into the FBI agent’s house to find info about FDR. What she finds is his files on her. Hold on, the friendly robot is doing ballet. The instructor just told her she is acting mechanical. Oh, the irony.

This is a lot of writing for only 17 minutes of show. I’m putting way too much effort into this.

Talk talk talk talk talk. I’m about ready for some action here. Maybe something to do with “fighting” and “future.” There are a lot of guns, but they aren’t being fired. There are a lot of robots, but they aren’t fighting. There are a lot of fists, but they aren’t punching.

John Connor is watching Sarah’s (I got tired of spelling her name wrong) mental institution tape. Can’t see any good coming from that. It’s nice to know that, even though the future is at stake, John still has to go to school. Knowledge is power, but then what use are all those guns?

Nosey FBI agent is talking to Sarah’s old psychologist in his woodland home. There are no raccoons doing his dishes. That would be charming. And disease-tastic! Hey, guess who drugged the FBI agent? What’s up, doc?

Robot kicked some fool. That’s all.

The doc thinks the FBI agent is a robot from the future. To test this theory, there was a little leg stabbage. And there was blood. Doc thinks Sarah’s psych ward ramblings line up with the book of Revelations. Now he’s recapping Sarah’s escape from Terminator 2. Been there, doc. Get on with it.

Now John and the guy I assumed was Sarah’s brother are having a heart to heart. He’s just some guy from the future. Or an uncle. I don’t really care. But boy does he hate robots.

Guys are getting out of pitch black car, towards there apartment where the robot is. But she got the info she wanted, so she walked right on by as they killed the Russian chess family. That’s not action! But the doc is burning the FBI agent. That is, sort of, action. Then Sarah punched the doc and took the robot arm. That’s more action-ish. And that’s all we got.

I could go for some more serious talking right about now. Hey, we’re in luck! Blah blah blah feelings blah blah. Why is so many relationships developing when killer robots are involved? You hear me, Transformers?

The FBI agent who the doc tried to kill put the doc in the psych ward he originally worked in. I’m not impressed with this full circle. Also, FDR got all burnt up.

Dear Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles, I am not a fan. Your truly, Aric McKeown.