Line of the Weekend:
Monk (holding the pills that transformed him into "the Monk"): "You think Dr. Kroger would want me to throw these away?"
Sharona: "I think everybody wants you to throw them away."

Summer Olympics
Aussie diver Loudy Tourky takes the bronze and joins teammate Chantelle Newbery, who took the gold, in the awards ceremony. Tourky's big mistake? Walking on her hands during her pre-dive handstand before nailing her dive. Um... I can't even do a handstand and she blows gold and silver with just one little mishap. Yeesh. That's why she's there and I'm on the couch. Points to Laura Wilkinson and Sara Hildebrand for hanging in there and making it to the finals, too. There's no shame in fifth and 10th place, ladies. (And Hildebrand switched to diving after already being a high-level gymnast? How is it she gets to be that good at two sports while I'm fair to downright crappy in all of them?)

In track, Justin Gatlin earns the title of world's fastest man and Maurice Greene takes the bronze. And the race sees four men finish in sub-9.90 time for the first time. In their honor, I wolf down four nacho-cheese Doritos in record-breaking time.

Also, Annia Hatch takes the silver in women's vault, becoming the first American woman since Mary Lou Retton to medal in that event. In her honor, I jump up to get more chips.

The Dead Zone
"John, ignore the pain. Come back to the beach," says Rebecca. Yeah, easy for you to say when you're not the one with something being jammed in your neck, hon.

Reverend Purdy shreds a bible as we see the long, thin strips come out the bottom. C'mon, Rev. Put a crowbar in the wallet and invest in a crosscut model, huh?

Stillson's trying his hand at voter fraud by rigging electronic voting machines: Wouldn't it be nice if we could all laugh and say that was too far-fetched to be believed?

Y'know, to me, this show started out with a D-grade at best. I found it wildly overrated, unfunny and, Jeremy Piven's agent Ari aside, boring. But this week gets at least a B, raising its average.

In more than a few discussions around the office, I've been right with the crowd who can't understand where all the critical praise is coming from for this. It needs to be edgier, more Larry Sanders and less Arliss. More like... this episode.

And here we have it — more of the inside-industry stuff and not mere knuckleheads chasing girls. And even though we've seen him play this type of guy many times over, Piven does it well — and is rapidly stealing this show.

As for Gary Busey gracing the small screen again with his looney act after doing it for the unsatisfying I'm with Busey, it's much better this time around — and just goes to show you what a few good writers can do.

Dead Like Me
Wow, talk about francophobia. Passenger (and target) P. Thibodeaux is not only French, she's also angry, snotty, anti-American and rude as all get-out. Haven't seen this kind of misdirected anger at the French since I was forced to retake their language in high school, or when our House of Representatives cafeteria introduced us to freedom fries. What, was the wine choice of someone on staff mocked last time they hit the bistro? Pas tr&#232s bon.


Summer Olympics

As if Michael Phelps isn't already weighed down with accolades enough for five people, he adds the distinction of winning a gold while sitting in the stands. Stepping aside and letting rival Ian Crocker swim in his place sure paid off, with Crocker and the boys bringing home the gold — and Phelps sharing it, too, for swimming the preliminaries. Yeesh. Even when this guy isn't in the pool, he wins.

As for Lauryn Williams' silver in the women's 100-meter race, I'm not fussy about the color of medal metal. Any win is enough to choke me up, but in this case you'll have to read on to see why since I'm not about to embarrass myself with details of my old-softie status twice in the same column.


2004 Summer Olympics
I'm watching Gail Devers prepare for the race in which she'll avoid elimination by a mere .01 seconds, and all I'm thinking about is everybody talking about the Balki investigation. What, the entire Myposian team was disqualified? Oh, wait — it's BALCO.

Anyway, Lauryn Williams wins her race. Is there anyone out there who doesn't get a lump in their throat when hearing about how her dad only made it to the Games due to all the people kind enough to donate money to pay his way?

And how pathetic does it make me feel to consider that Michael Phelps swims faster than I can run? A lot more than the fact that Jeremy Wariner runs faster than I swim, I can tell you. But it was amazing to see Phelps reach the wall before Ian Crocker in the 100-meter butterfly with a Herculean final lunge. And his decision to step aside and give Crocker a shot at gold in the 400-meter medley? That's class. More than we see from Gary Hall Jr., who's pretty darned graceless, don't you think?

I haven't been this frustrated watching one of my favorite heroes since Superman gave up his powers in order to be with Lois just before Ursa, Non and Zod showed up to wreak havoc on the planet. I mean, I know Monk's gonna snap out of his drug-induced Buddy Love state and get his powers back, but it's sure painful waiting for it to happen. Not anything less than entertaining, you understand — just painful — as was seeing poor Monk standing in the pool, alone, after getting suckered into that solo game of Marco Polo.

My only advice to the Monk: That red Mustang? Dude... chick car. Seriously.