Bet Your Life
Pass the popcorn, folks. It's time for the Next Action Star movie and I'm not gonna let anybody trash my Sean and Corinne. Granted, I may be a tad biased, given how my addiction to NAS would wig out Betty Ford, but this was a hoot. Sean's a gambling addict who agrees to let crazy Billy Zane hunt him for sport in exchange for $2 million... if he survives. Corinne's the bootytastic bounty hunter looking to collect his debts. And just plain looking fab. It's like The Running Man without Ahnold and all the Jack LaLanne jumpsuits. Thank God. Of course, it won't be shooting them anywhere near the A-list, but my peeps should be proud. I mean, this could have been From Justin to Kelly with rocket launchers instead of dance numbers. Let's just hope NBC doesn't let these two disappear. After all, Days of Our Lives' Lexie so needs a kick-ass sistah and Passions can always use another Crane hottie, right? Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Amish in the City
All right. Time to put down the popcorn and eat some crow. Last week, I busted Kevan for playing the whole "I've got a cool name" game. Well, it turns out he's half-Iranian, it's actually is pronounced Key-Von and I am as culturally ignorant as the other city kids here. Except for Reese, who has my usually loving (and lovely) roomie calling for his slow, painful public flogging. Honestly, who cares that he volunteers with handicapped kids? That queen is a royal mess. Between the overdone eyebrows and his bitchy 'tude toward the Amish, it's no wonder there's so much tension in the house. Sure, Ruth did leave her panties on the floor — big eww — and Mose's I, Robot monotone is kind of creepy, but this glam freak is one wet lettuce leaf away from becoming reality TV's Leona Helmsley. Thankfully, the gang got their hugs on at that racetrack concert. I was feelin' it, too. Mostly because I thought Arrested Development had broken up years ago. Take me to another place. Awww yeah.

Veronica Mars Commercial
Nine times... nine times. This spot ran more in two hours than Marion Jones on Red Bull. Cute as it may be, I don't need to see that perky blond acting all Nancy Drew again until she debuts this fall. Which can't come fast enough now that...

The Simple Life 2: Road Trip over. Finishing up their ride, we got a full hour of party girls just having fun. At the expense of others, as usual. This time, it's prison inmates enduring blond and blonder after they land jobs at a Texas sheriff's department doling out grub and greetings to guests of the state. "The weather's not that great... you're not missing much," consoles Nicole, proving once again that you don't have to be smart to be hysterical. Speaking of smart, their idea of branding cattle with lipstick instead of irons may be the craftiest move these two have made since turning useless wealth into a career.

Ohhhh, the secrets of The DaVinci Code. Ominous music. Gauzy shots of ancient ruins. Bible scholars. Please. The only secrets we need to know are that the final chapter is a cop-out and that there's gonna be a lot of angry people if Ron Howard's movie version even thinks about showing us the other passion of the Christ, you know what I mean?

Newlyweds: Nick & Jessica
CaCee... move yo' squatting butt out of that house and learn how to spell your name. Unless you're half-Iranian, I don't want to hear it anymore.

Da Ali G Show
I have no idea what this guy is saying half the time, but anyone who can rope a panel of politicos into debating Ruben Studdard's appeal as a presidential candidate is someone I need to party with. As long as he doesn't ask me to explain why "world's tallest midget" can't be an Olympic event.

Rescue Me
So, a bunch of you have written to tell me how good this Denis Leary firefighter drama is. And you weren't messing around. This is fantastic. I haven't seen a more fascinating batch of racist, homophobic misogynists since graduating from an all-boys Catholic high school back in '87. But what's with this stalker making pie eyes at probie Mike? Scoot, dude. These Engine 62 guys need another reason to bash gays like Tommy needs to date his cousin's widow. Bad idea, bud. About as bad as Kenny's poetry. Even worse is the fact that Tommy's geeky extortionist-hacker nephew is named Damian. Like The Omen thing hasn't been tough enough? Whatever. I'm totally hooked. And laddered. And very, very sorry for that one. It's late.