Lost Oh. My. God. OK, not sure about ya'll, but I think my heart stopped after Jack and Kate found Charlie hanging from that tree. Wow. They are so lucky Doc's fists of fury brought our little hobbit back to life, because I was like one chest-thump away from a

Steel Magnolias meltdown. Of course, Claire's still missing so she could be toe-up, but I'm thinking the next casualty will be that bad seed of hers. As for the other survivors, lots of confessions going on here. When not playing in backgammon matches, Hurley is apparently some sort of "warrior" back home. Locke has a boring box-company job. Boone works for his "Martha Stewart of matrimony" mom's wedding-planning biz. And Kate's pop was in the military. Which totally beats Jack's dad who so deserved to be ratted out by his own son for operating on a pregnant chick while boozed up. Seriously, Pepito the wonder Chihuahua and I barely had time to digest these tidbits, much less our take-out Mexican, before Boone and Locke found that metallic whatever beneath them in the jungle. Great. It's the last original episode of the year, so I guess we're all left hanging until January for that answer. My theory? Bomb shelter. That's all I'ma say, aiight?

America's Next Top Model
8:06 Tyra Mail! The final four are off to check out the street chic of Tokyo. Blessed be, this stops Ann's unending moans about her falling-out with Eva. Buy a diary, you whiner!
8:07 The ladies grab T-Mobile Sidekicks for the "Baby Doll Lolita" shopping challenge. Hopefully, they get to keep the gadgets, 'cause I just got one and trust me: healing powers. For real. Plus, the getups? Hor-oh!-fying.
8:19 Yaya blows it by showing up late to strut her scary outfit. I feel ya, boo. Last time I was on time, it was... ummm.
8:30 A photo shoot on a Tokyo avenue proves two things: Amanda was born for chartreuse eye shadow and Japanime couture only works on freakishly big-eyed cartoon characters with monster racks.
8:44 Ann, shut the hell up! No wonder Eva's done with you. Cripes!
8:54 The Janice Dickinson Line of the Night: "Amanda reeks of a model." Big words coming from a woman who reeks of formaldehyde and near-obscurity.
8:57 Ann gets the boot and gives Eva the hand by not hugging her on the way out. Don't leave angry, honey. Just leave.

A Clay Aiken Christmas
I know this may miff the Claymates, but two years ago, this would have given me a rash. The kid just wigged me out. I think it's his hair. Then — do not laugh — I heard his "First Noel" on the American Idol Christmas CD and got over it. So, even though I'm still having night terrors from last week's Nick & Jessica traveshamockery, I was stoked for this special. Know what? Loved it! The chill supper-club set, Aiken's not-of-this-world pipes, Megan Mullally's "I'll Be Home for Christmas," Yolanda Adams' "O Holy Night." Fall on your knees, for sure! Too bad Barry Manilow had to show up looking like a gayer Rod Stewart. But hey, at least his choppy shag took the pressure off of Clay's.

Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera ad
According to all the blurbs, Larry King loved it. How long until he divorces it for a younger movie?

The Billboard Music Awards
Since these are based on record sales, I could care less about the winners. They have my money. What I'm all about here are the performances. Unfortunately, the performers don't seem as invested. Honestly, you know it's a bad night when Evanescence's Amy Lee is so off-key on "My Immortal" you'd actually pick death, Nelly is sampling Spandau Ballet's "True," Beyonce almost forgets to thank God and Gwen Stefani sounds like Yoko Ono in platforms. And correct me if I'm wrong, but did she just sing "take a chance, you stupid ho"? Charming. What am I waiting for? Click.

Barbara Walters' 10 Most Fascinating People of 2004
How weird is this. I just had a chat with a friend about how fascinating he is and here's Babs with her annual list. Turns out, my bud didn't make the cut. Maybe because in Walters' world, "fascinating" equals overexposed and/or richer than Herod. Trump? Oprah? The Google guys? Rolling in it. Usher? Dig him, but a day without hearing "Yeah!" is as likely as me ever having his abs. Michael Moore and Mel Gibson? These two spontaneously appear at the very sound of a camera powering up. And Paris Hilton? Please, some of us have seen more of that one than her gynecologist. We know too much about these people for them to be fascinating. There's no mystery, no pleasant surprises. That's what makes someone fascinating. That and their ability to keep their mouths — and legs — shut every now and then. Like top-spot winner, Karl Rove. I mean, I bet there's no grainy video of Bush's top adviser in smeared makeup playing "hide the Rick Salomon." I also bet nobody would want to see it if there was. Except maybe a very select few. And even then, they wouldn't be so much fascinating as just plain frightening.

101 Most Sensational Crimes of Fashion
Arrghh! I totally flaked on Project Runway for this countdown of Hollywood's lamest clotheshorses. And from what I'm seeing, it's the usual suspects. Lil' Kim and her boobs. Pink and her man arms. Hey, leave Kirsten Dunst alone! She's cute! Oh wait. What is that baggy, lacy mess she's wearing? Looks like Holly Hobby on a three-day bender. Good thing Bravo replays Runway later on. I'll need an hour of aspiring designers to erase the memory of these red-carpet catastrophes. Yikes! It's J.Lo in a floppy hat and pirate boots! How am I supposed to sleep now?