With my prejudice squarely in place, let us continue. Bones has a problem with her current project. The skull has been tampered with through plastic surgery. How, oh how, will she be able to tell who it is now? I predict she’ll figure it out in 45 minutes.

Bones is LA. Right now, they are showing us the hard bodies out by a pool. These will be contrasted with Bones who is still wearing all her clothes. Why the hell are they even talking by the pool? That was a stretch directors and/or writers.

For being a scientist, Bones isn’t very scientific. Her false analogies and emotionally-charged rants against plastic surgery are not those of a scientific mind. Comparisons to foot-binding and calling it barbaric? Again, good job writers. Directors, you’re safe here.

They think mystery skull is a call girl. I mean, escort. Sorry, hooker. A hooker.

There is a sub-plot about coming up with the history of an ancient skeleton. While this is more interesting, it bores me. Why is this show still on?

The fake technology this show uses bugs me. They make no attempts to keep this show grounded in reality, even though all the evidence they use is a basic as you can get. Plain old bones. I blame the…creators?

Bones is on a show with Penny Marshall. Bones wrote a book, and Penny Marshall is directing it. Oh lordy, she talked about her brother, Gary. If they are apart, they can’t help but talk about each other.

Also, Bones talked coldly and scientifically about a space-time paradox. So is she acting supposed to be acting like a scientist or not?

Bones and FBI guy keep going to different plastic surgeons, which gives Bones more of a chance to rant for no reason. I’m glad I get to watch an hour of someone’s, so far, baseless opinion.

The found some special tools a specific plastic surgeon used. Then Bones used them on clay to figure out what their marks would look like on bone. Like a saw to make a specific puncture wound. You shouldn’t look so frustrated by that, Bones. It was pretty obvious to me that it wouldn’t be the right one.

So the real murderer was another escort. Sigh. I didn’t think I’d go way from this show hating it more. Everyone involved should be ashamed.

We start with a flash-forward from Juliet. Psych! It’s a flash-back from when Juliet arrived on the island. Man, you should have seen your face. J.J. Abrams got you so bad!

Back in the present, the boat people disappear into the woods so Juliet goes out to look for her. Juliet finds her therapist in the woods, who isn’t a weird ghost. She warns that the boat people are going to release gas on the island to kill everyone.

Also, there are whispers everywhere in the woods. Doesn’t Walt usually accompany those whispers? Or, you know, death?

In the past, Juliet treats the therapist’s husband for a chemical burn. Who, on a messed up island, isn’t going to make a little meth?

The Tempest is the Dharma station that powers the island. It will also release poison gas to the whole island. The power is really just a bonus alongside killing everyone.

Kate was stupid, and the boat people smacked her over the head. Kate should change her name to Liability.

Juliet has been sleeping with the therapist’s husband. Which is a no-no, because it seems she was brought to the island to save babies and Ben. Not to save Ben. For Ben. Like a mail order bride.

Therapist’s husband was one of the Others who infiltrated the tale end folks. Which means he is good and dead. Or at least dead. “Good” was an assumption on my part. Apart from the affair, I don’t have anything else to judge his character by. Maybe he fixed cleft pallets in his off time.

Ben and Locke are really bonding. Not sarcastically. Ben is showing Locke the man who wants to find and exploit the island. Locke wouldn’t want that. Let’s see if the dynamics change again.

After some tense moments, it turns out the boat people hired by the evil man were trying to stop the evil gas from going and killing. The gas isn’t really evil, I suppose. Gas is gas. Unless it silent.

The last show is Ben walking around. He must have told Locke something good. That was an alright episode of Lost. I wasn’t thrilled, but I wasn’t spectacularly let down.

Whosits, by name of Jack, assumedly drown at sea lat week. Whatsername, name of Marin, will find ways to cope. Since she probably still likes him. I haven’t watched the show in a long time, but I assume that’s the case.

Also, Marin has a half-naked man in her kitchen. The top half-naked. This is broadcast television, after all. She is trying to keep him healthy. He looks about 20 years younger than her. I’m going to assume he’s her uncle.

Some folks named Sara and Eric are main characters. I don’t know their deal, aside from Sara liking to sleep in and Eric liking to pray. It probably goes a little deeper than that. Oh, Sara works at a diner and Eric is a Bible study group. Well, one character deepened. A little.

Oh no, bar characters. I don’t have the mental capacity to keep track of all of these people. I’m sticking two the main four. Which is easy. Because one of them might not be an issue any longer.

Jack was tracking whales when his ship went down, which reminds me of Voyage of the Mimi. That was a barely educational show I was force to watch in middle school. Hey, maybe that’s where this forced TV watching stems from.

Coast Guard found a piece of life raft, so they’re calling off the search for Jack. By the way, the piece didn’t have Jack on it. That’s a crucial bit of information. The nameless (to me) characters in the bar look sad.

Everyone in town is coping in a different way. Watching old movies, listening to old records, putting old people in homes. To each their own.

Hold on, one of the nameless hordes had been struck by lightening. They say once you’re struck by lightening, your odds of getting struck again go up. Which is nonsense. Sure, people who get struck by lightening tend to do things that get them struck by lightening. So their odds are above average. But getting struck doesn’t raise your odds.

Marin is doing a lot of looking inwards. And outwards. Reminders of Whosits everywhere. Outward. And inward. But it’s hard to show inward without outward. And it’s hard to show your emotions outwardly without the inward part. It’s a circle of emotion.

There’s a in-no-way-veiled metaphor about sonatas in effect. Each story has three parts, like a sonata. There you go. The nonexistent veil has been lifted. Which means it hasn’t been lifted.

Eric has a parishioner with troubles crashing his home, which doesn’t make Sara happy. This plot point is boring and will not be brought up, by me, again.

Not even one episode goes by and Jack is back. I’m hoping it’s Marin’s imagination and we’re going to have to deal with some deeper issues. We’ll see, after this commercial break.

Jack got picked up by a Russian freighter, or he didn’t if this is Marin’s insanity. I will now pretend that Jack is a ghost, from now on. A gruff and grumbly ghost.

Everyone else can see the ghost too. I will pretend that they are humoring Marin.

Half-naked man needs new kidneys, and he’s lying about it to his niece, Marin. Will uncles never learn?

Marin is making it with a ghost now. In a truck. I don’t understand how he can walk through walls but still touch physical objects. Pfft, ghosts.

So there you have it, rabid fans. No in depth analysis. No attention to detail. No pulled punches. It wasn’t a terrible show, but I can’t see myself watching week after week. You know, on purpose.

Oh, and Marin is moving in with a ghost.

It’s no use describing the character in the house to you. Just understand that they’re all hate each other, and they’re all very shallow. Like a house full of emotionally vacant hornets. Again with my hornet analogies. Okay, a house full of emotionally vacant shoes.

The teams in the Big Brother house are supposedly perfect matches. So far, there have been zero love connections. Even though the…oh, what’s the classy way to say this…sluts really want to make a “connection.” Sluts are classy now, right?

There are couples “on the block” to be kicked out of the house. Today, they can save themselves by winning a veto. They call it the “golden power” of veto. Yes yes, “golden shower” is the easy joke here. Very good, I’m proud of you.

For the veto competition, they dress up like cupids attached to a pulley system an yell at each other. Did I say yelling? I meant yelling in high pitched hysterics.

Hold on. “Her brain works in an honest way,” was said in regards to someone solving a puzzle. That would only make less sense if it was said about someone in a swimming competition.

The main slut-VS-I’m-just-not-into-you team came off the block. Which is kind of lame, because the team left “on the block” stirs up a lot of trouble. And why would I watch this if it weren’t for all the trouble being caused? I don’t want to watch a lot of nice people make nice.

Slut was searching for I’m Just Not Into You like the Terminator. She is nuts. Oddly enough, I’m Just Not Into You was making out with someone else. Ahhh, this show is great. The people are all nuts.

Slut and I’m Just Not Into You did hook up earlier in the game. Which is why Slut is being led on. I’m Just Not Into You call her his “boy.” IJNIY is so condescending towards Slut. And he keeps putting her down. But she keeps saying he’s her soulmate. That’s amazing. It’s like giving facts to a Creationist.

Now there is a siren threatening to change everything in the house. If it goes off, everyone needs to gather into the living room for a drastic announcement. It will probably go off during tomorrow’s episode and change everything in the game. With only a handful of couples left in the house, they need some twist to extend the game for another two months.

That’s about it for the day. See you tomorrow for, what looks like, Men in Trees. Where did all these Men in Trees fans come from?

We open on a snow globe held by a futuristic robot dressed as an FBI agent. He quickly dispatched a high school principal. Well, heck. This is what was missing last episode. And by “this,” I mean “anything interesting whatsoever, especially having to do with robots.”

Did you know that Edward Furlong, to original John Connor, turned into a terrible actor? It’s true! Check him out in Intermedio. You will also see, in Intermedio, an actor named Paul Cram. He is auditioning for the same commercial as me on Wednesday. So, really, it is just like I was in a movie with Edward Furlong. Right?

River, or whatever the female robot’s name is, kept an evil robot brain from the future. It looks like a flashing light that you put on your bike while riding at night. Futuristic! The “brain” came from a robot that was married. It was undercover, like a sleeper cell. I suppose that means my wife is a robot. Dammit. It was nice knowing you all.

The robot was married to a city planner, or something. Robots love plans.

John Connor sure is emo. Do you think he cries while listening to Bright Eyes? Also, the fake FBI robot sure likes shoving people against walls. It’s a bonus if it kills them. Not everything is a bonus.

Vick, the evil robot brain and also an asshole who fights dogs, not a bad story element. We’re watching his memories while the Connor Crew…sorry…Konner Krew tries to solve the mystery that is Vick. It’s not a bad story telling device.

Oh boy, the FBI robot and the River robot are headed for a showdown. But that probably won’t happen until the next episode. Dang. Drat. Tarnation.

The show contains a massive amount of sitting around, talking, and wearing black. Where are we, the 1950s bohemian hedonist movment?

While trying to spread a virus in city hall to shut down what the Vick brain was trying so hard to set up, Sarah Connor and future dude also wearing black failed. Then they were chased down secret tunnels by cops who were easily subdued. That was almost action. The drums tried to tell me yes, but I say no.

Vick’s brain used John Connor’s Blackberry to try and call out his location. Too bad there wasn’t another one of those Blackberry outages at that time.

Now River-bot’s brain is out and accessing a traffic light to save the world. This destroyed some program and caused a lot of traffic congestion. Even on the freeway, where there are no traffic lights. Good one, TV show editors.

This Terminator hour was better than last week’s Terminator. It still wasn’t great. And that’s enough of “television’s most driven series.”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Paul Rudd is in this episode of Veronica Mars. It can’t be all bad. He plays the leader of a band who is coming in to play Hearst College in order to save the radio station. Then his something was stolen! Oh no! Something! That would be more dramatic if I was paying attention.

Tapes. Veronica needs to find backing tapes that someone stole from Paul Rudd. And while that is going on, Logan is setting up a business plan for a class. A creative website. Who has ideas like that?

Of course, his is called GradeMyAss.net. If only I had thought of that!

Paul Rudd is an anti-semite to boot. He can play such a fantastic sleezeball.

A drunken Paul Rudd is taking everyone skinny dipping now. This isn’t going to end well. Skinny dipping is a catalyst for mishaps. Or is a mishap in and of itself.

Veronica solved the mystery, but probably didn’t, because there are 25 minutes left. I can’t fault the show for that, because House does it all the time. Whoops. The mystery is solved. Maybe there’s another mystery around here somewhere.

Piz and Veronica didn’t get Paul Rudd’s tapes back to him on time, so he could find his own courage. Like the Wizard of OZ with more facial hair!

And Mac broke up with her boyfriend. And some other plot strings were left dangling like a broken tree branch in a lonely forest.

Rory is graduating, and Paris is angry about something. Like usual. How can they not stretch out another ten seasons?

I am wearing stereo headphones and can really enjoy the stereo separation of the Gilmore Girls. It have annoying voices pumping into both ears!

How many shoes advertisements can they stuff in between this horrible spaces of this show?

Kirk is going to be sitting in a box this episode. Wacky Kirk. Insert you own euphamism here. And here.

They are going to put on a play about Rory’s life in Gilmore Girls? How can this not kill me? This sounds more lethal than poison. The lethal substance and the band. Which is also a lethal substance.

Rory’s grandparents are singing a parody of a Cole Porter song about Rory’s graduation. Now Logan is proposing to her. Rory didn’t know what to say. Probably because Logan didn’t get down on what knee. The fool!

Rory is all torn an emotional about the proposal. I would be too, if I were in the Gilmore Girls. But that is because the writers would keep stringing my character along for no good reason. It would be pre-destined.

And finally, Rory graduated and turned down Logan’s proposal. She likes life being wide open. Like her stupid mouth! Zing!

Plot for first 10 minutes? Monkey likes playing pranks. Monkey sad due to lack of quality pranks. Then angry. Then desperate. The pranks escalated until the school was destroyed. Do you hear that, children? Destroy your school to be funny.

In the next half episode, the animal school has a new kid. Actually, a ventriloquist dummy. And only the human can see that it isn’t real. We have giant brains. My giant brain gave people the option to tell me what TV to watch. I have defeated my own point.

Cartoons are hard to blog about. No matter, as my time is up. I wish you many nights of iced cream.

Are you curious about the origins of the term “yaya?” Yeah, me too. Let’s look! Oh, it’s Greek. That wasn’t much of a journey. I apologize.

Anywho, these folks are updating their home so yaya can live with them and their children.

“Rich color scheme” is code for “a bunch of dark colors without any emphasis.” Now that’s some “divine” design. As long as I’m being sarcastic, let’s take a look at the definition of “divine.”

of, relating to, or proceeding directly from God or a god

Yeah, it can also mean “superb.” I like to pretend the designer is being directed by hod. Because if he can spend his time designing a basement pad for yaya, he certainly has the time to check in on you in the bathroom. He knows what you’re doing in there.

I’m sick of writing “yaya.” Time to switch it up with “old lady.”

The designer used wallpaper for…does it matter? Wallpaper is a terrible invention, and should never have been encouraged.

Dangly beads on the couch pillows? What is a pillow without its basic functionality of providing comfort? What a sad and lonely life for old lady’s pillows.

Old lady loves new room. If you can take any comfort in that, more power to you.

Now, let’s watch My Name Is Earl. Will these 40 minutes seem too long? Possibly. Probably. As always, I hope for joy.

Randy and Earl got a job. But never mind that. Jonathan Slavin just made me laugh really hard. And there’s that hobbit that was also on 24.

Earl’s goal this episode is to move from his new job in warehouse to a newer job in the showroom. The guys in the warehouse are trying to bring him down. The funny guys in the warehouse. That makes it unlike any warehouse I have ever worked in. That would be two. Two warehouses.

There is an increasing number that keeps flashing in the lower right hand corner of the screen. This is important. It must mean something. Wait, now it’s going down.

Joy is escaping her impending trial date. She is off to Mexico. I think less people would escape to Mexico if there were a country full of trees and cardboard boxes. Wait, is Canada full of those things?

It has been half an hour. I am sleepy. Watching TV is tough work sometimes. Sometimes my fingers don’t want to move. Oh, and it’s over. That…wasn’t…really…supersized.

Well, that bit into the next half an hour. Huh. See you in twenty minutes, I guess.

I have missed all of this reality show, searching for the next member of this girl band powerhouse somethingrather. That being said, I’m pretty sure this will be the most important hour of television I will ever watch.

Everyone wears too much lipstick on this show. It looks like their lips are melting off from leprosy.

If you say “axe” instead of “ask,” don’t be surprised when someone makes fun of you.

“You need to go to psychology and find out who the eff you are.” We could all use a trip to psychology. That was after the barrage of “don’t judge mes.” That exchange was time well spent.

Actually, sarcasm aside, this show is pretty fantastic. They have filter down the contestants to the most annoying, and set them loose on each other. That is reality TV at its best. I don’t want to see everyone becoming fast friends. It’s all about the drama. And this show is doing that really well.

The girls are pretending to be sad after they leave their pad. Or maybe the tears are real. I would be sad if my spirit were a hard little black ball that could not be touched.

Yes, yes. We know you’re 18 and have a baby. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it. But don’t wear it like a badge of honor. You were too stupid to use birth control. Aren’t you special?

Mark McGrath, of Sugar Ray hosts this show. A quick search of Wikipedia tells me that Sugar Ray was originally called Shrinky Dinx until Hasbro threatened to sue. I didn’t think Sugar Ray could get any stupider, but it just did.

If it weren’t for the long periods of terrible performances, this would be the perfect show.

Did you know that being able to hear things helps with your singing? Thanks for that pearl of wisdom, president of Geffen Records.

There is going to be a next next Pussycat Doll? Then what was the point of this series? I don’t want this year’s model.

And the girl with the baby “won.” If you can call that winning.

Now the newly complete Pussycat Dolls are performing their one song. Truly, a night to be remembered. I’m sure someone is updating their fanpage with gusto right now.

And that is how the story ends.

How quickly will I able to catch up the plot I missed? One tw….good. There I am. I guess all the talking is just a cover for the lack of real movement.

Today’s plot? Chicken pox. I wonder if Saved by the Bell ever did a chicken pox plot. I could be wrong. Maybe it was Family Ties or Home Improvement.

Rory is opening letters for her roommate. That’s the other plot. Actually, Rory is opening acceptance letters for her grumpy friend. She keeps getting into schools, which makes her grumpier and grumpier. Funny, my mood is moving the same way.

The volume of commercial on the CW is on level with the show. This is the exact opposite of the SciFi channel, which will destroy your eardrums if you aren’t careful.

Lorelai isn’t wearing a helmet while biking, after she broke her car by being stupid. I would have less of a head if I didn’t wear my helmet. Wear a helmet, boys and girls. It’s cool to be safe!

Luke and Lorelai are becoming friends again, after she and her husband divorced. I assumed. It’s a pretty safe assumption, since I don’t see him around anywhere.

This just in, from the CW, silk dresses are in! Thank you, faux commercial!

Lorelai and Luke are looking for a car. They are both annoying each other, but are too polite to let it really show. Which causes them to talk very quickly about more than nothing. Sure, that sounds like par for the course, but it really is taken up an annoying notch.

And another notch! And another notch! It’s like a severe weather siren that doesn’t reach a peak.

When an actress says, “I’m only 22,” in a scene and invisible milk squirts out your nose, that’s too bad for the actress.

Oh no! Rory didn’t get her reporting fellowship! I am so sad now because of television!

Hooray! I’m already smiling! Some excellent comedic timing so far. Thanks for getting me out of the grumpy dumps, Scrubs!

JD has given up his inner monologue to everyone else this episode. It is terribly goofy and awfully funny. Hmmm, terrible and awful aren’t the right words. Find and replace them with “really” please.

Many many plots going on at the same time don’t seem overpowering this episode. I don’t know what it is, but it’s being handled really well. Come on, brain! Work better! Find the formula that is making the funny!

1/4 of the evening was great. That’s a terrible ratio, but it ended on a nice note. Now I can go to bed happy. Thanks, voters!

Ahhh, Michelle said “dude.” I forgot the overpowering sea of catchphrases that Full House is. You can’t even see across it.

Joey gets to open for Wayne Newton in Vegas. He doesn’t want his father there. What do the girls do? Invite his dad. Ready, set, situation comedy! Whoa, the first act just ended with Joey’s dad showing up. That seems a little quick.

Joey’s dad is disappointed that he is a comedian. Funny, that disappoints me too.

“Cut it out.” Drink.

Do Popeye impressions count as a comedy act? Don’t answer. It’s rhetorical. If you are a slow reader and answered already, apology accepted.

Joey and daddy are making up. How can I tell? The soft piano is swelling. That also means the credits are coming. That’s the best new I’ve heard all day!

From what I can gather, this show is about a girl named Betty. If only there were an adjective to describe her appearance.

Five minutes into the show, and I have yet to see any relatable characters. Okay, I can put that aside. After all, I loved Arrested Development. Let’s see, let’s see. Something to like. Something to like. The over the top gay characters? Mmmmm, nope. Vanessa Willia…no. Story line about illegal immigration? No. Son of a gun, I think I’m screwed.

Woo hoo! Time for a hilarious attempt at a make over, Betty! This is sure to be trite. And…it was. Oh, you should have seen it. Everything she liked was crazy and ugly! I mean, can you believe it? And then her final outfit was just her original outfit, slightly modified. My pancreas just fell out of my split side!

How do you make a club scene look hip and trendy? Shake that camera!

I still have another half hour of this show? What can I use as a coping mechanism? Maybe if I slam my hand in a door, I can transfer the pain.

Oh no! Betty’s dad’s caseworker is a fraud! That can keep the threat of deportation going for the rest of the season.

Crazy ex-case worker is going all Kathy Bates on him. She has a sky blue tux for him to wear at their wedding ceremony. Sure, he could have busted through the screen door with ease. But we have another fifteen minutes to waste.

October Road? What the hell is October Road?

Statutory R? The show is a big barrel of laughs, isn’t it? Or is it a drama? It doesn’t seem like much of either.