So Bob picks Estella. Toward the end of this "Bachelor" go-round, that Kelly Jo, th perky little cheerleader from Kalamazoo, got too, too, too confident. She scared Bob. She scared his mom. She scared me! So he went with the safer choice, albeit one with a weird nose and a helium-sucking voice. I predict no wedding-during-sweeps special for Bob and Estella. His soulmate is still out there in TV land somewhere.

I've given up on "Average Joe." Once they trotted in the lookers, it was all over. I hate when shows set up their rules and then proceed to break them. And faced with three lumpy hoagies and some slick club sandwiches (with chips!), what woman wouldn't order a club? With chips!

It all makes me tired. Bob's rat-a-tat laugh. Estella's whiny baby talk. Where are the grown-ups on these shows? Why doesn't anyone ever ask the prospective mate: How much money do you make? What's your religion? When did you lose your virginity and how? Have you ever visited Neverland and did you sleep with Michael Jackson when you were 9? How about politics -- who'd you vote for in the last presidential election? Do you like mayo or mustard on your burgers? What's your favorite Andy Griffith show episode? (a true test of character)

They never have any substantive conversations. Just breezy crap about "the journey" and how "ameeeeezing" each other is and how "awesome" the scenery is outside the limo-boat-copter.

Makes the mumblings of Ally Hilfiger sound downright poetic.