The O.C.
1. The first three minutes of tonight's' episode were the wittiest. In them, Seth utters his greatest lines of the night, summarizing last week's almost-kiss with Summer as follows: "Our noses grazed. And it was like the most sexually charged nose-graze in the history of nose-grazes. It's essentially nose-humping, is what it is." Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Nose. Humping.
2. A minute later Seth has a crazy-corny exchange with Papa Cohen:
&#160 &#160 &#160 &#160 Seth: "Help a brother [meaning Ryan] out. This guy's got mad Valentine's Day skills, bitch."
&#160 &#160 &#160 &#160 Papa Cohen: "Word, son."
Then, less than 30 seconds later, Sandy gives Kirsten one of what looks like eight dozen Valentine's Day rose bouquets. She takes a bunch and shreds it in the garbage disposal. Now, that's how you start a show. Sing it with me now: California, here we cooooooooommmmmmmeeee.
3. Lucky Summer. She gets to go on a road trip to San Diego with two — count 'em, two — guys who adore her. Too bad Seth had to go and blow the whole comic-book presentation. But we knew that would happen.
4. Listen: I'm sorry her father died on the boardwalk. But that Rebecca's got some nerve, asking Sandy to leave his Valentine's Day date with his wife to "swing over" so she can say goodbye to him one last time. "Well, if you want to go I'm not going to try and stop you," Kirsten told Sandy. And don't you know that fool went. "I'll be right back," he said. Man oh man, the Cohen boys are screwing up all over the place tonight.
5. If the first three minutes were the best, the last 30 seconds were the most hyped. Picture this: Alex and Marissa are sitting on the beach on their "spontaneous" first date. "The tide just turned," Alex says. Then the camera moves in for the girl-on-girl kiss in five... four... three... two... one. And I'm not gonna lie, it was a bona fide liplock — about as L-Word as a noncable teen drama can get. But the muffled sound of those two anorexic girls' cheekbones colliding was too much for me to handle.

OK. The show's writer types just made the People reporter ask Joey out. Come on, now. I've interviewed some charming, sexy actor types in my TV Guide career. And let me tell, I have never once — no matter how much I secretly wanted to — asked the guy out. And I don't even need to take a quick poll of my female interviewing peers to know that never happens. Never. I mean how stupid can you g... Wait: Rant interrupted. Did that woman just say, "You reach a certain age where you realize you have to start focusing on your personal life?" Ohmigod. I've said that. Recently. On a date. Lord, I hope it doesn't sound that pathetic in real life. Darn those Joey writers and their truth in comedy!

Will & Grace
Am I the only one who wanted Karen to dance with Scott? Sure, he's crazy. But I'm betting that man can move. Besides, I could see that dance making him go all &#252ber-stalker on her. And that would lead to an episode where Karen goes to file a restraining order against him only to find out that his warped competitive self has put a restraining order out on her!

The Apprentice
Cruella DeVille, I mean Angie, was killing me. When she was talking about how she hated her team's commercial idea — "This is so bleeping in the box," she said, "this is the box — she had me rolling. But my major beef with tonight's episode lies with that actress Team Magna hired for its veggie-porn spot. Yes, it was unprofessional of them to make her wait two hours with "no supervision." But who the hello! does she think she is? "I want you to know there's a 90 percent chance that I'm not staying," she said. What?! Yeah, my earrings would have come off right then because, guess what, missy, you work for me and you can not talk to me like that. Actresses come a dime for every two dozen while national spots are hard to come by. So what if this is only a test spot? It's for a national show. She's lucky Bren was there because her a-- would have been on the street. For real. I would have fired her so fast it would have made Trump's hair grow back. Puhlease. Talk to me like that. And, you know what else, her little diva rant was a far better performance than the one she actually got paid to do in the commercial. Speaking of divas, the Deutsch guy was unnecessarily harsh on both teams. They only had a day to throw the thing together. And, yes, neither concept worked. But he could have given them more professional and constructive criticism. Instead he pulled a Trump and told them both concepts sucked. Which was very true. But his tact left much to be desired. Especially when the real commercial his company commissioned wasn't much better. I'm just saying. (To hear last week's evictee Danny Kastner's special musical recap of the episode, click here.)

Killer Kodiak bear aside, how many times do I have to say it? If the woman is "like a sister to you" or she's your daughter, then — all together now — you do not sleep with her husband! Goodness gracious, people. Loyalty trumps lust every time. It is not a difficult concept.

Just when you thought they were done with limping chief Dr. Weaver, ER's emotional manipulators pull you back in with this episode about the long-lost birth mother who comes to claim the daughter she gave up all those years ago. OK, let me break it down for you real quick: Mama pretends she's sick so she can meet the daughter she gave up. That's the good news. (Well, that plus the fact that it turns out Weaver is a Hoosier, too.) [Sing it with me now: Wander, Indiana!] The bad news is that Mama Dearest changes her mind when she finds out the girl she didn't have the guts to raise is a lesbian. (What?!) Oh, yeah, it gets ugly. They have a good old-fashioned, faith-based Red State argument about what's right and who's wrong. At one point Weaver poetically cries, "I was alone in my soul. Do you know what that feels like?" But in the end, they stand solidly on separate sides of the faith-fence so Weaver has to say goodbye. Cue the sad music. Next to Shane-rocker-doc, Weaver is one of the ER types I'll miss the least when they finally make her disappear for good. Even still, I shed a tear for the girl. That's just not right.

Other things that happened in this episode: Carter went all Jerry Springer on a painkiller-lovin' patient. Abby could barely keep her hands off her new ex-student beau (and, really, who could blame her?) and Sara Gilbert's nerdy character Jane got dumped on Dr. Pratt, who decides they're a good med-student/resident match.

A boy learns to salsa dance to get close to the girl he loves. MTV takes this utterly romantic notion and ruins it by matching the kid with the worst Made coach ever. Seriously. Campy, Broadway-dancing what'shisname is so bad I can't even talk about it. Poor kid. No wonder he doesn't get the girl.

Late Show with David Letterman
Letterman's interviewing "the guy who accidentally shot himself in the head with a nail gun." Poor Patrick Lawler. He's going to be that guy for the rest of his life. Not that he doesn't deserve the strange title. The nail was in his head for SIX DAYS. And TWO DOCTORS (a dentist and an eye guy) missed it. Shut. Up. But you know what Letterman didn't do that I wanted him to do? He didn't ask the dude to show us on his face where the nail went in and to show where on his head neurosurgeons carved a picture-window hole so they could take it out. Is that too much to ask? For the last time tonight, I'm just saying.