Send me to Brat Camp

I love Brat Camp on ABC so much that I want to go there on my next vacation. Not that I'm addicted to Ritalin or steal from my mom or am "out of control," as the on-screen IDs tell us about Isaiah and Lexie and the rest of the screwed-up kids sent to sort out their troubles in the Oregon wilderness. No, I just want to go there and learn cool stuff like "bow-drilling" to make fire. And I want "Fire Shaper," the cutest counselor, to pitch a tent for me, if you get my dreeft.

Email arrives from Mark Teitel of "Mark and Shoe," two of the finalists on Bravo's Situation: Comedy. He read my post about my dating history (pathetic though it was) with one of the five finalists on that Sean Hayes-produced reality series. Ugh. I need a month hiking in blizzards at Brat Camp to erase those memories. Anyway, because Mark took the time to type to me, his pilot Sperm Donor is now my favorite sitcom-in-development. Hope it finds a network ovum to latch onto. It's pregnant with possibilities. Oh, I could go on. But I won't.

ABC's whore-ridden Hooking Up is like Elimidate without the booze and big tits. Or Blind Date without the funny, dancing graphics. These chicks try to find husbands by dating sniveling dorks they meet on the Internet. It's like Girl-Meets-Potential-Psychotic-Stalker. And all the girls talk with those nasal-dripping babygirl voices.

This week's Real World: Austin could serve as the prequel to Real World: Rehab. If these kids did anything but drink, hump and sleep, I wouldn't worry about them so much. What world do they live in where nobody ever reads a book, shares a coherent thought or thinks about someone other than themselves? Oh, yeah. The world of 20-year-olds. I hope they all die in a pool of their own vomit.

And speaking of new drinking games: Everytime one of the pretty idiots on Laguna Beach calls somebody "Dude," have a shot of Cuervo. You won't last till the first commercial break.

Take me to the wilderness! Fire Shaper, you can bow-drill me anytime!

Do you think H'wood actors are weird and dumb?

Then read Zap2It.com's oddwad encounter at the TV press tour with recurring has-been Steve Guttenberg, starring, if you can call it that, in NBC's MOW remake of The Poseidon Adventure. Scroll down to "finding wisdom in Steve Guttenberg's Bible." Yeah, get it, the Guttenberg... whatever.

And sooner or later, we'll all be on a reality show. Here's your chance to be on one of E!'s.

TV overlaps with my past

Holy krappenzees! I'm watching Bravo's Situation: Comedy, the sort of Project Greenlight for TV with Sean Hayes as the celebrity connection. They looked at 10,000 sitcom pilots, chose 10 for semi-finalists, five for finalists and two to actually shoot for consideration by NBC.

They intro the semi-finalists in this first episode and the last one they show turns out to be a guy I dated back in the early 1990s. Back then he was an accountant by day and a stand-up by night. We went out several times and what I remember from those outings is that I always paid half the check (comics never have money, but don't accountants make some?) and he kept asking me over and over, "Do you think I'm funny?" Things ended badly -- though the details escape me. I think he was just asking me out in hopes that I'd write a feature story about him for the paper I worked at. And look, he wasn't that funny.

So he's in this reality show, pitching his lame sitcom idea. He did get down to the final five, but blew it in his really boring spiel to the network comedy development execs. He was identified as an "accountant from Austin," so I guess this brief shot on reality TV is the most he's made of his comedy aspirations from years ago.

I just couldn't believe he wore baggy jeans and a really ugly cotton sweater to the network pitch meeting. With TV cameras rolling! Hey, hayseed, this is Hollywood!

Didn't escape notice either that two of the guys who made it all the way through -- their sitcom idea is about a middle-school kid who runs his life like a corporate exec... think "Donald Trump in the Middle" -- are extremely attractive blokes. Handsome sells better than shlubby and Austin accountant guy went right off the shlub meter.

Schadenfreude overload.

Will the baby need a perm?

NEW YORK -- July 26, 2005 - On the upcoming "Blow Out" reunion special premiering on BRAVO on Wednesday, August 3 @ 8 PM ET/PT, Jonathan Antin shocks his team of stylists with the news that he is going to be a father. And just when viewers think that all the secrets have been revealed, there are more surprises in store. Next Wednesday, Jonathan and his team of celebrity stylists reunite for a look back at the most outrageous moments of "Blow Out" seasons one and two. Viewers will learn what's next for Jonathan in his personal and professional life, and see the reaction from his family, friends, and colleagues. Scandals abound, and Jonathan comes face-to-face with one of his most unforgettable foes, Scott from Zorbit, for a look back at the hair-raising conflict that left viewers combing for more. A special sneak peek of the "Blow Out" reunion special will air on Tuesday, August 2 @ 11 PM ET/PT only on Bravo.

TV's doody bubbles

This week's Being Bobby Brown found Nippy and Bobby camping with the fam. Completely forgetting that she was wearing a mike pack, Nip led Bobster down to the riverside, cuddled up to his camo-clad chest and whispered, "Take me over there" -- the other side of the river -- "Behind a tree. You could work me over."

And in the background, chubby little Bobby Kristina, their sweet and probably embarrassed-for-life-by-her-parents daughter, gamboled around the campsite, fists dripping with hamburger grease.

It wasn't quite as horrifying as Bobby telling the camera that he once dug a "doody bubble" out of Nippy's butt -- but it was right up there! Or down there, as the case may be.

Laguna Beach is back! Nobody doodies there. They hire undocumented workers to do it for them. But isn't it swell that MTV's docu-reality-drama about the future Botox consumers of Orange County has returned for a second season? We find Kristin, the self-absorbed blond last seen snuggling with pretty-boy Stephen (which she pronounces "STE-vu-uhn") now blowing and ho'ing her way through her senior year at Stepford High, still surrounded by yes-girls. In a completely contrived-for-cameras "reunion" of last year's seniors over Christmas break 2004, we find out that lovely "LC," Kristin's rival for the hot lovin' of Stephen (who, mark my words, will at the age of 30 be married in Canada to an investment banker named Chad), has flunked out of her first year of college in San Fran. We also see that Morgan is still the group's token fat girl, which makes me sad. Because if seeing yourself on MTV looking like the only lonely moose among the marigolds doesn't send you to Jenny Craig or the lap-band doc, what will?

Hell's Kitchen served up a hot little number last night as spiky-haired chefette Jessica was reunited with her girlfriend. Viewers got a long dose of lez-love as the two smooched on each other like they were sucking cherry Slurpees through the same straw. Who knew Chef Ramsay was so lez-friendly? The final two on the cook-off next week are spider-armed Michael and maniacally grinning Ralph. I'm pulling for Michael and his tattoos because he just cares so damn much about every souffle and rarebit that he plops on a plate.

And this week's biggest doody bubble goes to CBS, for turning BB6 into the most unwatchable piece of merde on teevee. Remember the good old days of evil Dr. Will or the one-legged dude from Brooklyn? I say lock the door, don't give them any more food and three or four months from now, we'll have ourselves the first cannibal feast on any network.

Speaking of eating, give me more celebrity fatties on VH1! Gary Busey, current star of Celebrity Fat Farm or whatever it's called, has become the scary guy at the end of the block. You know, the one who sits in a folding chair in his driveway all night because he's sure your kids are stealing his garbage cans. Something bad wrong with that boy. The pavement done kept part o' his brain in that wreck a few years ago. He almost hit the Snapple lady! What's with that?

Janice Dickinson tried to crawl out a window to escape Bronson Pinchot on Surreal Life the other night. Well, wouldn't you?

Why doesn't RuPaul have a reality show?

She does have a blog. And here's an excerpt:

8 HOURS AT THE AIRPORT WAITING & WONDERING...Why is it that you can talk on your cellphone as soon as the airplane touches down, but you can't listen to your IPOD to drown out the geniuses talking into their cellphones at the top of their lungs?

Who decided that all the TV's at the airport should be showing golf?

Does the security checkpoint really deter would-be bad people or does it just give passengers a false sense of security?

Does CHER fly commercially? If so, does she have to show her drivers license?
Did WONDER WOMAN'S invisible airplane run on invisible jet fuel?

Can it really be all that bad to give a screaming toddler red wine?

The critical mass

For more than 10 years I was a member of the Television Critics Assocation, covering the beat for a couple of dailies and the Scripps News Service. Right now 200 tube-weary scribes are gathering at the Beverly Hilton Hotel to see all the new shows for the next six months, and to interview everyone involved with producing and creating the shows -- that includes cable and broadcast networks. It's a lot of TV and too many parties to count.

I did my time on the TCA "press tours" and I don't miss all the network boolsheet about this show and that being "revolutionary" or actors who have all studied the same script when it comes to answering questions. Everybody's cast "feels like a family" and everybody's character is "Everyman." Only a few times do I recall a celeb ever answering a question candidly. Like the time newcomer Jessica Alba, promoting her Fox show Angel, was asked about how she got cast at such a young age (I think she was 16 or 17) in a major network show. "Yeah!" she said, practically jumping out of her chair. "Can you fucking believe they picked me?"

Anyway, to read the real scoop on the TCA group-grope going on right now, go here. My critic pal Ed Martin pulls no punches, gives the straight skinny and dares to name names. Adam Carolla! John Landis! Jerks!

Today's phrases from Being Bobby Brown

"Drip it fuh me! Drip it!"

"She's a Bro-own. She's got body" (Referring to his and Whitney's daughter.)

"One day you gonna learn. Daddy just wants you to be quiet."

"My daughter and my wife gangs up on me."

"Times like these, my wife's gets on me, my daughter's gets on me. Just makes me wanna walk."

"I need another beer and I need a plate of food."

"Gimme scotch on the rocks, a Kahlua, Bailey's and a Grey Goose. The two that I ordered for her, I'll take those. Don't worry about it."

Listen to London

All the coverage from London made me crave a bit of Capital FM radio. Listen here to hear it. Today they're reporting on the massive vigil at Trafalgar Square that celebrates unity against terror. Tune in, brew up some Typhoo, grab a McVitie's and it's like you're there.

They are not afraid

For the first time in 20 years, I saw something interesting this a.m. on Good Morning, America.

It's the website called We Are Not Afraid. Click here to go there and then scroll down to "galleries." Great stuff.

Two tents for therapy

ABC's Brat Camp asks an interesting question. Can teens exiled to the wilderness for a couple of months really stop being lying, scheming, thieving little druggies?

I watched the two-hour opener of this docu-reality show with one eyebrow raised. Would it be Real World Goes Walkabout? Road Rules with More Rules?

By the end I was surprised at how engaging it all was. The kids in this thing really are the dregs of teendom. But they have their reasons. Pasts full of sexual abuse, emotional trauma, parental splits and more grief than any 14-year-old needs. The clips of their parents have that American Gothic feel -- mom and dad standing side by side, blinking straight into the camera lens. You can read in their faces the confusion and exhaustion of dealing with their awful kids. The moms cry. The dads look stoic and kind of disengaged.

In this episode we met the counselors at Sage Walk, the wilderness camp in Oregon. Each has an "earth name" like Little Running Bear or Mountain Wind. The kids are ID'd on the TV screen as "habitual runaway," "hyperactive," "compulsive liar" and "habitually violent."

I kept thinking, what words would they stick under my face? "Cranky old bat." "Chronic carbaholic."

By the end of Brat Camp, you know you'll see tears, redemption and hugs. These things are predictable.

But along with A&E's excellent series Intervention, Brat Camp shows a pretty gritty look at the secret lives of real American families.

Twat rhymes with bat

...at least that's how Gordon Ramsay pronounced it when he told a young chef he was acting like the biggest one in Britain. That was on Ramsay Revisited on BBC-America. Now I'm dying to call someone a twa-aat.

I'll start with the 14 living in the Big Brother 6 house on CBS. Tonight's big super-secret revelation: There's a secret room in the house. Ooooooh. I'm shaking from the excitement. Each summer's BB looks like last summer's. There they are, eating PB&J and complaining about it. There they are, lolling around the dinky pool. There they are, sacked out on the furniture, not doing a dadgum thing. Oh, wait. That's my house, not BB's. Tonight's installment unfolded sans Julie Chen. Thank you, Eye Network!

The prettiest people on reali-TV are the young golden-flanked gods and goddesses of MTV's Laguna Beach. What a gene pool rests there on the cliffside roosts of Orange County. They all have those cutesy names: Kristin, Talan, Jordan, Stephen, Lauren. As long as it ends in an "N," they're in. Can't wait to see if Stephen hooks up with the old g-friend or if he engages in prolonged kiss-and-whine sessions with "LC." These kids are so physically perfect, it burns my retinas to look at them too long.

Jonathan the hairstylist-star of Blow Out on Bravo cries more than Susan Lucci at Emmy time. The shampoo bottles with his name on them are in -- boohooooohooo! He talks to his therapist about feeling like a fraud -- boooohooohooo! He needs a serious slapping. Then rinse and repeat.

Keeping up with Kept

Jerry Hall fascinates. With her long swathe of blond hair, the imperfect smile, the posh twang that carries holdover vowels from her years with Mick -- the woman is a platinum-coated goddess among the Eurotrash. Her VH1 show, Kept, places her on a pedestal above a pack of pec-hard pikers. Each episode, one of the lads is ousted, forced to exit between two huge bouncers manning a set of velvet ropes, like a hustler being kicked to curb at Regine's. To earn Jerry's approval, the boys (all Americans and as thick-headed as your average catalog model) have to learn "skills" that would befit a high-end rent-boy (take that how you will). They've had etiquette lessons (!), learned to play polo and posed nude for each other's portraits, which were auctioned off to Jerry's pals. The whole show is like eating caviar on a Frito and washing it down with a Champagne-and-K-Orange mimosa. I can't get enough. Jus hearing La Jer say, "That one shood naht tawk." Satisfaction guaranteed.

Big Brother 6, where are ye? CBS had it on the sked for Saturday night, but ran a crime drama instead.

Even better than Fox's "kitchen apprentice" reali-TV Hell's Kitchen is BBC-America's repeats of Ramsay Revisited, featuring the same chef, Gordon Ramsay.

When they die and go to show business hell, Bronson Pinchot and Omarosa will feel deja vu all over again because they're currently exploiting their own unpopularity on Surreal Life (VH1). After Perfect Strangers ended, Pinchot popped up on a few more sitcoms, all duds. Anyone remember Meego (1997)? He starred as a 9000-year-old alien who crashes to earth and becomes a nanny for the family that finds him. (Co-stars included electric-car-loving Ed Begley Jr., and creepy-eyed child actor Jonathan Lipnicki).

At the network's press tour interview session for Meego in the summer of 1997, it was clear from the reaction of the 200 critics in attendance that this would be one short-lived series. After they ran a few clips and intro'd the cast, who sat onstage, the network flak asked if there were any questions from the critics. Dead silence. You could hear crickets chirping at the back of the room. Then one of the ballsier scribes spoke up: "What do the actors have planned when this show is canceled?"

Dancing with the geeks

Looks like the fix was in on Dancing with the Stars. Kelly Monaco, the soap vixen whose pair of bubbles threatened to burst from her ever-shrinking costumes, ended her "free dance" with a thud on both knees. And the idiot judges awarded her three perfect 10s.

Mr. Peterman, you wuz robbed. John O'Hurley and his Danish delight of a dance partner were the class of this show. They were why I kept watching. But networks love a "come from behind" story. Speaking of which, photos of Ms. Monaco's bare one are all over the web.

The WB's Beauty & the Geek ended just right, with the cutest geek, Chuck, vying for the prize money and the... what? Title of smartest geek? ... against Richard, a central casting geek who looks like Screech's younger bro. One thing you can say about the geeks on this little dose of "reality," they were all gentleman. Nobody got too drunk. Nobody grabbed ass in the hot tub. I'll take a geek like these over the hunky lunks on Strip Search any day.

CBS did not pre-empt the first night of Big Brother 6 for London terrorism coverage. So we got to meet the 14 "housemates" in the newly re-uglified tele-prison and hear hostess with the leastest Julie Chen utter the phrase "Aitch-Oh-Aitch" over and over. So far the only housemate worth hating fer sher is Howie, the tallest and gooniest.

Weird how so many "personal trainers" and "bartenders" end up as contestants on reality shows. It's as if the casting folk look no further than their gyms and neighborhood bars for non-stars to populate these things.

Coming up: E! channel's deliciously frightful Fight for Fame and VH1's Kept, starring Jerry Hall, who manages to have both a Texas twang and a British accent. Rah-thuh, y'all.

Reality TV is good again

So I'm watching a load of it. Dancing with the Stars on ABC, Hell's Kitchen on Fox, Being Bobby Brown on Bravo.

Bravo to all of them and more, more, more!

From Mr. Peterman doing a mean tango with the Danish pastry, to Bobby and Whitney stumbling around the Bahamian resort, I'm eating it up like a double cone with sprinkles. Tastiest of all is that hunk of haggis Gordon Ramsay, the meanest chef on the planet and possibly the sexiest. On Hell's Kitchen he makes mincemeat of the would-be cooks and shows the world how bloody hard it is to make a decent plate of risotto.

Down in Austin on the latest installment of MTV's Real World, they've cast seven slutty alcoholics. Or maybe six slutty alkies and one snaggle-toothed virgin. On night one, they got roaring sheet-faced on Sixth Street and one guy landed in the ER with a busted cheekbone. Party on, dudes! Bring on the usual race-baiting and phone-in break-ups and tears for no reason. We've already seen girl-on-girl action in the hot tub and a chick wearing ass-baring shorts. God bless y'all, every one.

A Screech lookalike named Richard on Beauty & the Geek (WB) is one of two finalists going up against the more-normal and only slightly nerdesque Chuck. Not as mean as Joe Schmo and Average Joe, this one's kinda sweet, in a WB-ish way, which means some humiliation and not that much skin.

CBS brings back Big Brother for another round of the worst reality TV ever devised. Mrs. Les Moonves, aka Julie Chen, brings her robotic hosting style into America's living rooms starting July 7.