OK, so the opening credits have a cheesy-fun Baywatch feel and we love Michael Biehn, but come on. Eric Balfour and Ivan Sergei as hipster Big Island cops? Yeah, that's about as appealing as a full-body cavity search. Thankfully, the crime scenery is nohea and Sharif Atkins finally got some huahuas after his snooze-inducing ER stint. His scruffy 'tude alone almost makes up for tonight's clunky first-episode exposition and too-grisly-for-8pm plot. Charred bodies and a trunk full of heads really need to wait until, say 10ish? Hopefully the writers won't wait to realize that Atkins and Aya Sumika are hotter than lava and get these two back in the Jacuzzi, wikiwiki! Otherwise, this one may not have a pule.
Amish in the City
Back when The Real World was more than sluts and cutters, we had original New Yorkers Julie and Kevin spitting at one another over the black-white issue. Now we get half-Lebanese Nick tooling on the half-Persian Kevan. Oh, how the mighty race card has fallen. Of course, it was a nice break from Reese and Meaghan being... heinous, but the roomies' full-on rejection of Kevan's dinner-table apology may be the cruelest thing since E! convinced Anna Nicole that reality TV would improve her image. Though I gotta give Kevan this: He may or may not be half of anything, but he's 100 percent more than any of those city kids could ever hope to be.
Annoying News Crawl
Well, Kobe, I hope this has taught you a lesson. No means no. And if you're gonna cat around on your wife, you might want to wait for the felony charges to be dropped before springing for the bling. 'Cause you know that rock is hittin' eBay the second CNN pulls out of the Bryants' driveway.
Renovate My Family
Man, these home-repair bonanzas hurt. Throw in Jay McGraw, free makeovers and a family that's already been on one reality show and I'm ready for morphine. True, the Bigginses are a hoot, but do they deserve a day spa, six plasma screens and completely remodeled digs for just being big, loud and lazy? They don't even have a sick kid to make me cry! How about hookin' up a poor writer whose Chihuahua, Pepito, needs a Tempurpedic dog bed and a little training, huh? Especially since mom Mela wasn't even grateful that her hubby, Anthony, scored her a real-live engagement ring. "Is this CZ?" she asks. Girl, this is Fox, not QVC. Oh, and Jay, I know pappy is a cornpone therapist ill-equipped to be doling out weight-loss tips, but what makes you the Home Depot pro? Stick to riding his coattails and leave the construction to Scott McCray. It's time to get real, ya hear?
The Latin Grammy Awards
Some chick in a nightie is shaking her bon bon and singing about dogs. What's next, George Lopez cracking J.Lo jokes? Oops. Too late. Click.
Finally, Cynthia Watros gets to cash in on her Guiding Light training and do the crazy drama thing! Not that I'm saying pregnant women are hysterical emotional messes or anything. Please, I know not to mess with that particular segment of the population. So let's just say the ex-soap psycho tore it up right as Kellie's rampaging hormones sent her over the edge. What's sending me over the edge is that Drew has been funnier this summer than the last three seasons combined setting Lewis up with Kellie's mom is killer! and we're still going to lose the gang after next week. And for what? The rumored return of The Days? I'd rather attend a gay wedding for two pro-abortion, anti-gun Michael Moore supporters on the floor of the...
Republican National Convention
...where anti-Kerry T-shirts have sold out faster than keynote speaker Zell Miller. Who's flip-flopping now, Senator? You dig Bush because he's "the same man Saturday night as he is Sunday morning," huh? That's rich, coming from a guy who praised Clinton right into the Oval Office and is now blowing a gasket to bash the Democrats. This week. Seriously, sir, call our boys over in Iraq what you want liberators, occupiers, whatever. Let's just get them the hell home. As for our Veep, well, I'm sure a lot of you must think that I don't know Dick... Cheney, that is, but as he joked early in his speech, I'm glad Miller's on his side, too. The Dems don't need any more liabilities. Ironically, I like Dick. I also like that the networks kept the focus on him and his newly softened image, instead of the crowd's Gong Show-worthy booing everytime he mentioned Kerry. But what I like most of all is knowing that, no matter what anybody writes in a hate e-mail, we are all entitled to a voice. Be it online or in line on Nov. 2. It's called Freedom of Speech. Unless that equal right is only reserved for certain people, too.