OK, so I've fallen for this show hardcore and need to say that Lois and Clark may be the hottest comic-book pairing since, well, Lois & Clark. Not that Lana isn't a little temptress in her own right. It's just that she's so... last season. Plus, she's like, totally taken by this Jason dude and his sick mommy issues. Speaking of taken, Pepito the Wonder Chihuahua went out of his li'l apple head over the arrival of Clark's Kryptonite-enhanced golden retriever, Krypto. Or Shelby, if you stick with Martha's slightly nelly pick for a name. Either way, we were both ready to speed-dial PETA after the Luthorcorp lab cretins trapped the future Superman's best friend in a burning van. Thankfully, we could count on C.K. to save the day, because nobody wants to be messing with a ticked-off 'Pito. Trust me.
Say what you will, I still think Sawyer's a turd. Even if he's haunted about killing the wrong dude for the murder-suicide of his folks, that's no reason to be rude. Honestly, he deserved to be stalked by that boar simply for not telling Jack that he'd met his booze-bag ex-doctor father in that bar Down Under. Just wrong. As were both Jack and his pops about the Red Sox never winning the series. But since one of them was dead and the other was stuck on an island, I guess we can forgive them that one. Especially since everything else here was right on. A little Charlie-Claire romancey stuff, a flirty-girty Kate getting gooey with our increasingly scruffy bad boy and clues galore, including the revelations that Sawyer isn't his real name and that Locke was a foster kid. But possibly the biggest tidbit tonight is that Kate's a formerly married woman. And if you know your Happy Days lore, you know what they say about divorcées. That's right. Hot to trot. So I'm betting her "I Never" drinking-game confession about one-night stands will be history faster than you can say May sweeps. The only question is, who's gonna be the lucky man?
The Road to Stardom with Missy Elliott
All right. I admit it. I tuned in for Madonna. All four minutes of her. So color me true blue when the rest of this hip-hop star search turned out to be just as fascinating as the Esther formerly known as Evita's sage words to the final five. "You're not the owner of your talent. You are the manager of it." Don't need a red Kabbalah string around my wrist and Yogilates with Gwyneth to get that one. What I don't get is how Akil got the boot when Nilyne was obviously the weakest wannabe during the Mad Libs jam session with Teena Marie. The best? Matthew. Who cares if Mr. Christian isn't down with the dirty stuff at Missy's show? My boy can blow. For real, for real. Oh, and the gang's new digs? Not sure, but I could swear that's the mansion where they filmed the final massacre in Scream 3. And if the Jessica-vs.-Nilyne clips for next week are any indication, the place could be in for another bloodbath. Bring it!
Like Syd would really transfer out of APO. Please. What other job would let her toss off threats at Sloane like that? Or go undercover with Nadia as a pair of Paris-and-Nicole nightmares to bring down a playboy arms dealer? Though seriously, bragging about Ibiza is as tired as accessorizing with Burberry. Otherwise, I'm digging this sister act! Usually, when surprise siblings pop up, they reek of sharks being jumped. Think about it. Buffy? They lost me at "Hello, Dawn." Raven-Symone on The Cosby Show? Didn't even look back after that one. But here, for some reason, it works. Probably because Mia Maestro makes me sweat a lot. That and the fact that I'm starting to suspect someone (read: not Jennifer Garner) won't survive the season. And what better way to send Sloane running back to the dark side. Unless he's already there. Hmmmm...
Every once in a while, TV gives us something so good that I get a little buzzed from it. But this one's got me stone-cold bombed. Reuniting the ousted designers with final three Jay, Kara Saun and Wenchy, I mean Wendy, we get proof-positive that all reality shows are not created equal. Nor are the people who populate them. And though I will always cherish Nora's spot-on Heidi Klum impersonation and Vanessa's salty walk-off after being called on her tell-all tabloid interview, the line of the night has to go to Jay. After hearing Wenchy, I mean Wendy's self-congratulatory talk about her "strategy," the second-coolest guy to come out of Dallas, Pa., bellowed "This isn't Survivor!" And let's just all thank god it isn't. Otherwise this crew would have gone Lord of the Flies cannibal on Miss Nasty way before any tribal council could vote her off for screwing over Austin and Kevin. Which would be cool, but kind of gross. Besides, unlike that blessed Banana Republic song, we already know she's ugly on the inside.
Well, it's about damn time! It's been, what, eleventy weeks since the auditions began and we're just getting to the final 24? No wonder little Mikalah was such a mess waiting to learn that she made it. Criminy, you get me in a bad enough place and a red light can trigger a psychotic break. Much like Faith Gatewood's post-rejection meltdown. Let it out, child! And let's hear it for the big-voice-little-guy Mario Vasquez, the fierce Nadia Turner, country bombshell Carrie Underwood and my Delaware County homie, Anthony Federov. Springfield, Pa., in the hizzy! Just a word of warning, Tony: The voter eliminations start next week and there ain't a Jasmine Trias in the bunch. So ya better represent, aiight?
Oh, wait, I forgot. Until ABC dedicates an hour to lesbians verbally sodomizing last week's wicked wife, Kris Gillespie, this show is dead to me. Click.