tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56727662011-04-21T19:30:48.670-07:00Send your comments about TV -- reality or un -- to ELinerTV@aol.com. And check out my other blog: PhantomProf.blogspot.com.writernoreply@blogger.comBlogger671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1144864253889704322006-04-12T10:48:00.000-07:002006-04-12T10:50:53.900-07:00

And here it is. Follow me there!

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1144685860624021232006-04-10T08:59:00.000-07:002006-04-10T09:35:47.950-07:00

Like a polygamist with many wives, we who are married to HBO on Sunday nights remain most loyal to the one that first got us to the chapel, The Sopranos. And we'll dance with Tony, Carmela, Uncle Joon and the rest until the very end.But this week HBO's new second half of the Sunday night series double feature, Big Love, was so good it is threatening to steal our hearts. It's taken a few weeks to

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1144434239938793932006-04-07T11:00:00.000-07:002006-04-07T12:12:59.666-07:00

When Star Jones clopped back onto the set of The View this week, admit it, we were all staring at her new breasts. And for that, I am very, very ashamed. And a little frightened. According to legend, if you stare directly at her breasts, you will turn into a big block of cheese. (I still can't look at her without thinking of a term I once heard: obesely gaunt.)Shown on CNN and elsewhere, Justin

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1144262396794336872006-04-05T11:18:00.000-07:002006-04-05T11:39:56.846-07:00

As they say in Dodgeball, "It's a three-player swing!" That's what happens with the move of Katie Couric from NBC's Today to CBS Evening News. Out goes old pro Bob Schieffer, who has grown the CBS newscast by 2 million viewers since Rather's departure. In comes Couric, never able to get one sentence through her dental work without fluffing at least two syllables --then excusing herself with a

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1126112488401589282005-09-07T09:55:00.000-07:002006-05-03T00:26:53.086-07:00

Growing up as the son of Gloria Vanderbilt, Anderson Cooper never had to worry about where the next meal was coming from (unless Le Cirque was closed for remodeling) or how the rent would be paid. Maybe that's why his career as a reporter and anchor is all the more remarkable. On CNN this past week, he's kicked some major media ass as a hard-hitting, compassionate and well-informed man on the

writernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1125419966851465382005-08-30T09:38:00.000-07:002005-08-30T09:39:26.856-07:00

From TV Guide online: "John Leguizamo to join cast of ER."Which means his career is DOA.

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1125418044390236322005-08-30T08:51:00.000-07:002005-08-30T09:07:24.416-07:00

Been watching TV more often than writing about it. Thassaway it goes sometimes. When MTV's running a Laguna Beach marathon, it's better than a fistful of Ambien. Between naps I can watch "LC" get drunk with Stephen in Rosarita, Meheeko, while back in Cali, her nemesis -- her bleached blond Dr. Evil in Antik jeans -- Kristin, strolls the avenues, terrorizing lesser mortals. And what's with Talan,

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1124122578257330342005-08-15T08:45:00.000-07:002005-08-15T09:16:18.290-07:00

For Brat Camp 2, let's ship off all the spoiled young scions currently whining their way through Filthy Rich: Cattle Drive (E!). What a bunch of spoiled little pussies.The premise is the old fish-out-of-water trick. They've taken a bunch of Beverly Hills 20-somethings and plonked them onto a Colorado cattle ranch. They're supposed to go on a cattle drive from one place to another, camping in

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1123774363961468702005-08-11T08:23:00.000-07:002005-08-11T08:32:43.970-07:00

She called him "Clay Gay-kin."Oh, no, she di'n't! Oh, yes, she did!Kathy Griffin's D-List, now on in multiple reruns on Bravo (is there ANY other channel for reality shows this summer?), is the Sara Lee pound cake of TV series: not too heavy, not too light, very tasty, with a hint of sweetness and able to complement (if not compliment) whatever's on it. Whether she's grubbing for a free couch or

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1123167125675314402005-08-04T07:39:00.000-07:002005-08-04T07:52:05.680-07:00

Upon first meeting her archnemesis, Ms. Dickinson said, "I thought Rick James had come back from the dead."Excellent write-up of Surreal Life in the NYT. But even though the reporter gets to fondle fake tits and pronounce them remarkably realistic, the story only scratches the Botoxed surface of the weirdness of the match-up between "world's first supermodel" Janice Dickinson and reality-TV

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1123038480366747912005-08-02T19:55:00.000-07:002005-08-02T20:08:00.373-07:00

Michael the tattooed guy won Hell's Kitchen. But what was that sudden reversal of prizes at the end? All along, we were told that the winner of Gordon Ramsay's become-a-chef-in-six-weeks contest would be awarded his own restaurant. Michael even had a name for his: Lola Pop. So when Michael was announced the top chef (over the creepy Ralph, who had scary Chiclet teeth), all of a sudden Gordon is

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1122660491256518922005-07-29T10:55:00.000-07:002005-07-29T11:08:11.266-07:00

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 "

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1122570518880436632005-07-28T10:06:00.000-07:002005-07-28T10:25:49.826-07:00

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.

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1122426423319780832005-07-26T17:57:00.000-07:002005-07-26T18:07:03.326-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1122406904028949582005-07-26T12:40:00.000-07:002005-07-26T12:41:44.036-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1122388573565653422005-07-26T07:11:00.000-07:002005-07-26T07:36:13.616-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121956332020387732005-07-21T07:28:00.000-07:002005-07-21T07:32:12.026-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121806266668906872005-07-19T13:43:00.000-07:002005-07-19T13:51:06.676-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121377328512956882005-07-14T14:38:00.000-07:002005-07-14T14:50:38.816-07:00

"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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121360829797364782005-07-14T10:00:00.000-07:002005-07-14T10:07:09.803-07:00

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.

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121358293744170612005-07-14T09:23:00.000-07:002005-07-14T09:24:53.753-07:00

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.

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121316223658403122005-07-13T21:29:00.000-07:002005-07-13T21:43:43.666-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121226601520219822005-07-12T20:34:00.000-07:002005-07-12T20:50:01.526-07:00

...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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1121105904974177882005-07-11T10:46:00.000-07:002005-07-11T11:18:25.000-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1120865330439049762005-07-08T16:18:00.000-07:002005-07-08T16:28:50.450-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1120602182144744602005-07-05T15:10:00.000-07:002005-07-05T15:23:02.150-07:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1085431146408049152004-05-24T13:30:00.000-07:002004-05-24T13:39:06.410-07:00

Look, just because I haven't posted anything in weeks doesn't mean I haven't been scanning the tube. Yes, I saw "The Bachelor" with its requisite brunette stalker and the weekly announcement that "This week's rose ceremony is the most dramatic yet!" They never are, are they? I saw LaToya get voted off "AI" and Amber win "Survivor All-Stars" after accepting that sleazy Rob's oily proposal. Why do

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1083257125957910872004-04-29T09:45:00.000-07:002004-04-29T09:48:31.733-07:00

The Red Menace is gone at last. John Stevens, the Van Johnson of his generation, was sent home from "American Idol" after many excruciating weeks of public humiliation and off-key crooning. Poor kid. Deer. Headlights. Every time. But the tweeners loved him. Fox, if they've been paying attention, should sign him to a role on "The O.C." as the sensitive kid next door. Remember the curly-haired boy

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1083084758563246692004-04-27T09:52:00.000-07:002004-04-27T09:55:42.250-07:00

A lull before May sweeps sends me to "The Restaurant" for my reality-TV sustenance. The tone of this NBC show is as fake as Rocco's attitude toward his fans. (He calls even the chubbiest housewife "a cute girl" and panders shamelessly to the dowdy New York chicks who long to stuff his manicotti). The scripted lines and overdubbed dialogue (the phone calls between that odious owner, Jeffrey

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1082223009915788322004-04-17T10:30:00.000-07:002004-04-17T10:33:04.090-07:00

Man, long time, no blog. And so many shows to catch up on. Starting with "The Apprentice." In a year, nobody will remember the name of the winner, Bill Rancik. But I guar-rawn-tee we'll still be hearing about Omarosa. The wicked witch of Trump Tower has supplanted Richard Hatch as the lyingest, cheatingest player on a TV reality show. Don't you love it when truly despicable people delude

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1080145307535309772004-03-24T08:21:00.000-08:002004-03-24T08:25:34.936-08:00

Yo, Yoanna. The girl won "America's Next Top Model" after weeks of being told that her size 2 form was too flabby and that she "needs to work on her stomach." Gawd, her cheeks are so sunken in from lack of nutrients, she appears to be chewing her own jaws. But she's gorgeous and she strutted down the runway in the fabulous "professional fashion show" like the prize show pony she is. The big TEST

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-107954258809105182004-03-17T08:56:00.000-08:002004-03-17T08:58:50.640-08:00

Love those models. Every week on "America's Next Top Model," the remaining wraiths get thinner and more emotional. This week, the four left -- April, Shandi, Mercedes and Yoanna (I've finally learned their names! How sad!) -- slutted around Milan, bonking Vespa drivers and knocking back plonk until they were vewy, vewy dwunk. If ol' Janet Jackson hadn't flashed her nipple and sent American media

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1077646000461140562004-02-24T10:06:00.000-08:002004-02-24T10:08:41.750-08:00

"I don't read books." So said handsome Jim, the second to last hunk to vie for the affections of Larissa on "Average Joe." And with that, Larissa, bless her book-readin' heart, sent him packing back to his messy apartment in Scottsdale. Dude, a TV crew is coming over, along with the woman you say you love -- PUT SOME SHEETS ON THE BED! VACUUM UP THE DOG HAIR! TAKE THE BLOW-UP DOLL OUT OF THE

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1077125068631099402004-02-18T09:24:00.000-08:002004-02-18T09:26:23.640-08:00

Catie the weeper, bye-bye. Last night's "America's Next Top Model" had the remaining model wannabes getting acting lessons from one of Tyra's pals. Only thing is, she was teaching them to cry on cue. If there's any talent these skinny wenches have, it's being able to summon buckets of tears anytime they want. Shandi was boohooing like Meryl Streep making Sophie's choice. Meanwhile, Camille keeps

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1076511612824338882004-02-11T07:00:00.000-08:002004-02-11T07:02:01.013-08:00

Even top models get the blues. And unlike the rest of us, who reach for chocolate and chips and cheeseburgers to quell our sadness, these girls eschew all food and instead curl up on fake-fur pillows in decorator colors and weep like babies. Poor little models. Poor, sad little models. Let us all weep for their weeping, for there is no sadness like the sadness of models. On Tyra Banks' "

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1075838727943705752004-02-03T12:05:00.000-08:002004-02-03T12:07:08.216-08:00

First, a moment of silence in recognition of "Real World" creator-producer Mary Ellis Bunim, who died recently at the age of 57. Brilliant woman. Pretty much invented the whole reality TV genre -- and kept it growing on MTV for about a decade before the idiot broadcast networks finally wised up and started exploiting it. Bunim-Murray Productions has given us "Real World," "Road Rules" and "The

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1075329249010983862004-01-28T14:34:00.000-08:002004-01-28T14:35:43.140-08:00

"Real World" gets little enough credit for launching TV's reality trend -- OK, it took the networks about 10 years to catch up with MTV, but at least they finally got the message that we viewers ENJOY watching real folk make huge fools of themselves on camera. "RW/San Diego" proves that there's life in the old show yet. This week, TWO, count 'em, TWO RW-ers were arrested on camera ON THE SAME

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1074793888866635012004-01-22T09:51:00.000-08:002004-01-22T09:52:56.436-08:00

Think Simon Cowell is mean? How about Janice Dickinson, one of the panel of "judges" on "America's Next Top Model" (UPN)? "You walk like a linebacker," the aging supermodel and former druggie told one of the bony contestants this week. Show host and producer Tyra Banks has even less patience with the tall, terrified and obviously underweight girls pony-stepping down her runway. "You can't walk!

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1074708607733629402004-01-21T10:10:00.000-08:002004-01-21T10:11:34.890-08:00

Too many! Too many! And what a week it has been for the reality biz. The Average Joes had their tiny Hawaiian paradise invaded by eight gorgeous examples of eugenics. "They're cloning themselves," moaned one of the poor "Joes" as the hunks strode through the door. And the tiny little Joe, the one who resembles a Hobbit with bifocals -- were those tears welling up in his little bloodshot eyes? "

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1073592765771285912004-01-08T12:12:00.000-08:002004-01-08T12:14:00.153-08:00

How disappointing! I tune into "Celebrity Mole" expecting to see Cindy Crawford, Richard Thomas, Enrique Iglesias and Aaron Neville and what do I find? Corbin Bersen? Tracey Gold? Stephen Baldwin! As far as I can tell, not one of them has so much as a pimple or blackhead, much less a full-fledged mole. "Extreme Makeover." If I actually wanted to see bodies this ugly for entertainment, I'd stop

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1073421269140838102004-01-06T12:34:00.000-08:002004-01-06T12:35:41.233-08:00

It's the attack of the shnooks again on "Average Joe." Almost too painful to watch. The beauty queen Barbie doll looked like she'd drunk an arsenic-tini when the short, the fat and the ugly piled off the bus. Mike Myers couldn't have created a band of trolls as stumbling-bumbling, stuttering-fluttering as this one. There's the 90-pound geek who jumps on the furniture out of sheer joy for being

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1071682872974435672003-12-17T09:41:00.000-08:002003-12-17T09:42:05.390-08:00

On a semi-break from reality TV during the holidays, but I couldn't help watching most of the "Survivor" finale. The good-girl factor again kept a player from winning the money. Had Lill, the wrinkled scoutmaster, taken Jon the Liar to the final two, she'd be a millionaire now. By choosing Sandra instead, Lill spelled her own doom. Oh, well. There'll be another 16 wet, dirty, hungry players to

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1070471985898905652003-12-03T09:19:00.000-08:002003-12-03T09:20:24.466-08:00

About five minutes into "The Simple Life" on Fox, I had to look away, look away, Dixieland. Paris Hilton and Nicole ("I AM black!") Richie trying to navigate backroad Arkansas in a squeaky pickup truck... the sweet Leder family swigging their pollypop from plastic cups... the cows wondering whose French manicure is caressing their udders. Something about this reality show was just too, too

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1070385140162968022003-12-02T09:12:00.000-08:002003-12-02T09:12:57.843-08:00

DUFF. Thanks to "Average Joe" I now know that stands for Designated Ugly Fat Friend. Zach, the mule-faced "Joe" who hoped to win Malena's heart, said every pretty girl has a DUFF. A guy has to win over the DUFF to guarantee that the beauty will grant him the seal of approval. On the show, the DUFF in question was actually size 2 Malena wearing a size 24 Mrs. Doubtfire fat suit, pretending to be

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1070304706443528082003-12-01T10:51:00.000-08:002003-12-01T10:52:22.700-08:00

The WB was kind enough to send me review tapes of the new season of "High School Reunion." This time it's the class of '93 from Round Rock, Texas. (Round Rock is just a few miles north of Austin.) Same format as before, about 20 classmates -- not all of them grads from '93 -- are flown to a luxurious resort in Hawaii, where they spend a couple of weeks drinking, fussing and fooling around. In

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1069784852604386742003-11-25T10:27:00.000-08:002003-11-25T12:06:47.450-08:00

Oh, that Oprah. She giveth and she taketh away. Yesterday she gaveth about $5000 worth of loot to each lucky member of her congregation, er, audience. Shrieking, waving and dancing in place, like redeemed sinners at a pentecostal revival meeting, the Oprah crowd thanked the lord and Oprah (not necessarily in that order) for their cashmere Ralph Lauren cableknits, pink and blue Ugg boots (ugh is

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1069349811777333682003-11-20T09:36:00.000-08:002003-11-20T09:37:17.233-08:00

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

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1068665468992556692003-11-12T11:31:00.000-08:002003-11-12T11:31:06.286-08:00

The Satan-worshipping dogs who run Comcast Cable in Dallas have just about destroyed my TV-viewing schedule. Constant outages. And during sweeps! Does Nielsen know about this? Oh, the humanity! Caught "Joe Millionaire" just in time to see the Cameron Diaz-like slice of Eurotrash named Olinda getting the boot (and how appropriate is that in Italy?). Are all women in Europe as greasy and rude as

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1067966263109891712003-11-04T09:17:00.000-08:002003-11-04T09:17:41.563-08:00

Mark Burnett's messing with my head, man. On the CBS teleconference Friday, he admitted that his inspiration for this season's "Survivor" was "Pirates of the Caribbean." Thus, the pirate theme, the back-from-the-dead return of the ousted castaways. Burnett tries to stay one or 20 steps ahead of the competition -- and of the viewers who think they've figured out "Survivor" and its tactics. And

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1067449688943407802003-10-29T09:48:00.000-08:002003-10-29T09:48:07.910-08:00

Before I get to the finale of "Joe Schmo," this just in: Rob Campos, NBC's "For Love or Money" star (he was the one who picked Erin, who picked the money, got her own show and rejected Rob AGAIN), was right here in the halls of Southern Methodist University at 11 a.m. on a Wednesday. Reality TV follows me wherever I go. Campos was hanging out here at SMU to speak to a Media Ethics class. The

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1067360948172417232003-10-28T09:09:00.000-08:002003-10-28T09:09:07.593-08:00

No, I can't watch the new "Joe Millionaire." Guess what? We know the secret! Move on. I will be tuning into the finale tonight of "Joe Schmo." Can't miss that. And "Joe Average" debuts on NBC in a few days. It's all about the Joes! More later as events warrant. Gotta go watch "Mighty Joe Young" on Sci-Fi. Or maybe catch "Joe vs. the Volcano."

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1067007116177524312003-10-24T07:51:00.000-07:002003-10-24T07:51:55.543-07:00

"Camp Jim!" Thank you! This spin-off of "Made," the teen-works-to-realize-a-dream series, has hooked me good and proper. Give me a J! Give me an I! Give me an M! Now, give me a break! This Jim guy is a PROFESSIONAL CHEERLEADER. He's so gay, he makes the "Queer Eye" Fab Five look like a hockey team. Jim can Herkie like a 15-year-old and he has thick black eyebrows plucked with more precision than

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1066319840583298152003-10-16T08:57:00.000-07:002003-10-16T08:57:20.756-07:00

"I'm 23, which is almost 25, which is almost mid-20s." Jessica Simpson. The most quotable woman in America. I was at a dinner party last night -- fancy Italian joint, a dozen well-educated people talking films and literature. And whattaya know? The topic that united the table and amped the excitement like a jolt from a hot wire was "Newlyweds with Nick and Jessica." People started tossing quotes

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1065545413654034492003-10-07T09:50:00.000-07:002003-10-07T09:50:13.086-07:00

Again, I'm fascinated by the sheer, stupid brilliance of "Joe Schmo" on the Spike channel. Matt, the "Joe" of the show, is the only one who doesn't know that the entire enterprise is scripted, acted and directed to make him the butt of the jokes and, I hope, the winner of the $100K on the fake "Lap of Luxury" show he thinks he's on. Matt is such a sweetheart that he counsels the other "

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1065026180107336532003-10-01T09:36:00.000-07:002003-10-01T09:38:05.980-07:00

Did you see it? The peeny on "Survivor"? It was a teeny peeny and it made only a brief appearance -- as Kramer might say, "Maybe it needed some air" -- but it was there. My friend Ed tipped me off (pardon the pun) and told me to slo-mo the reward challenge segment from the Sept. 25 episode. When Morgan tribesman Ryan (not the skinny one, the other one) made his dash into the surf for the treasure

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1064421094459637992003-09-24T09:31:00.000-07:002003-09-24T09:31:34.146-07:00

Where to start? The Miss America Pageant? The Emmys? Was there a difference? Both shows could benefit from swapping some strategies. Let's have the Miss A. contestants face Joan Rivers for comments during the bathing suit competition. Let's have the nominees for Emmy's Best Actress in a Sitcom award line up for a current events quiz. Let's have Clay Aiken get trapped in a room with 50 beautiful

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1063813933763286892003-09-17T08:52:00.000-07:002003-09-17T08:52:13.206-07:00

Oh. Mah. Gawd. Can "Newlyweds" get any better? Nick and Jessica go to the senior citizen wedding -- massively hung over from a night of "discoing" in Cincinnati. Nick's granny and her new hubby were very cute -- why not a show about THESE newlyweds, huh? -- and you had to applaud when one of the guests, a guy who looked about 114, carefully parked his Lark scooter and then tumbled right to the

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1063296875989694662003-09-11T09:14:00.000-07:002003-09-11T09:14:36.066-07:00

"The Family" has ended with Ant'ny winning the mil and splitting it with his nine family members. Let's see, after taxes, that's about 50G apiece. Not bad for a month's work. And if baldheaded cutie Michael doesn't end up doing some film work after this, then the casting directors aren't paying attention. And what was with George Hamilton pretending to wipe a tear from his over-tanned cheek at

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1063209281807296682003-09-10T08:54:00.000-07:002003-09-10T08:54:41.686-07:00

"The Family" ends tonight. Zzzzzzz. Last week it was so good, the finale can't do anything but feel like a big fat anticlimax. Instead, I'm quickly becoming addicted to Spike TV's "Joe Schmo," the meta-reality show that plays a "Truman Show" trick on one unlucky "player" who believes he's in a reality game thing called "Rags to Riches." The big mansion. A dozen stereotypical houseguests: the

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1062702848917677402003-09-04T12:14:00.000-07:002003-09-04T12:14:09.020-07:00

Dawn Marie goes down! But maybe not completely out on "The Family," ABC's greedfest about the Joisey clan trying to score a million bucks. Last night, groovy hostmeister George Hamilton revealed the identities of the "secret board of trustees," aka the butler, chef, maid, social director and stylist. Wow, did Momma's eyes pop when she realized the chef had NOT appreciated all her whiny critiques

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1062607064629544282003-09-03T09:37:00.000-07:002003-09-04T12:09:29.336-07:00

Boy meets boy. Boy gets boy. The Bravo series ended with James, our hero, choosing Wes, a much shorter, much swishier gay man with a haircut that makes him look like Zippy the Pinhead. They cried. They hugged. They kissed. Woohoo. And now they get a trip to New Zealand, the happiest, gayest place on earth, one assumes. Left behind on the staircase of losers were the other short gay guy and the

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1062087541497168762003-08-28T09:19:00.000-07:002003-09-04T12:15:09.843-07:00

Uncle Mikey is out on "The Family." All the gay guys are out and proud on "Boy Meets Boy." And on "Big Brother 4," Jun is out on a day-pass for the MTV awards. But will she wear her saggy bikini on the red carpet? Of these three, clearly "Boy" was the most dramatic this week. One of the trio of finalist "mates" is -- don't get the vapors, Mary -- straight. Informed of this twist, James, our 'mo

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1061931423376128022003-08-26T13:57:00.000-07:002003-08-26T13:57:03.410-07:00

Here's how to bring some life to "For Love or Money 2": Now that it's down to two guys and a gal (she chooses one of them and if he chooses her back, she gets $2 million bucks and can dump him like a bad batch of coleslaw), they should announce ONE OF THE MEN IS GAY! Otherwise, this show will just fizzle down to nothing but ashes and empty wineglasses by the end. Where's the suspense, the heat,

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1061845332028706532003-08-25T14:02:00.000-07:002003-08-25T14:02:11.916-07:00

If TV gets any more gay, Dan Rather will be "zuzhing" his shirtsleeves to his elbows and Tom Brokaw will be reporting live in a Speedo from Fire Island. Among last week's homo highlights: Chip and Reichen, billed as "married" winners of "The Amazing Race," turn out not to be so married anymore -- but that doesn't mean they won't play the gay couple card in the follow-up interviews. Anderson

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1061495688179855642003-08-21T12:54:00.000-07:002003-08-21T12:54:48.043-07:00

So Erin Brodie on "For Love or Money" can look at that oily-haired sleazewad Rob Campos, listen to him say "I'm crazy about you" with less enthusiasm than I use to order a caesar wrap at Schlotzky's and then she KEEPS HIM in the game. Some women redefine "dumb" when it comes to love. If the camera pulled in close-up on Rob's eyes, you'd see the soul of Faust staring back. Have two people ever

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1061237072423366172003-08-18T13:04:00.000-07:002003-08-18T13:04:32.393-07:00

Summer's reality shows are winding down like a dimestore clock and only "The Amazing Race" is promising anything close to an alarming ending. Will Chip and Reichen beat those snotty little homophobes from Dallas, Kelly and Jon? Aren't you sorry Kelly didn't crash headfirst while rapelling down the side of that building? This show is crisply, brilliantly edited and still packed with suspense week

writernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5672766.post-1060703895140729292003-08-12T08:58:00.000-07:002003-08-12T09:14:56.970-07:00

Welcome, students, friends and fiends. Without a TV column to fill these days, I'm launching this weblog to exploit my ongoing relationship with all things media, particularly reality TV. Visit often. Just don't interrupt me during the "Real World" marathons. E

writernoreply@blogger.com0