Summer Replacement Shows Are Here!

It's that time of year, television viewers! No, not Sweeps Week - that was last month. It's time for Summer Replacement Shows! Of course, Summer doesn't officially start for another few weeks, but - well, I'm sure the networks know what they're doing. In any event, I have the inside slant on this Summer's offerings:

So You Think You Can Churn Butter? (CBS)
Set in the Pennsylvania Amish country, teams are put to the test raising barns, shoeing horses, and shopping for frumpy aprons and Billy Jack hats. In the inaugural episode, tempers flare as Abigail accuses Constance of using a corked churn. Also, Bartholomew utters an expletive.

Let's Blow Something Up! (NBC)
Teams race against the clock - and each other - looking for the biggest, shiniest, most expensive thing to blow up. Controversy erupts when the judges rule that the Lexus, which was blown to bits by Team Kragen, was impressive, but not quite as expensive as the Starbucks which was disintegrated by Team Hostedler.

America's Got Balls! (ABC)
Teams compete in a game which is basically volleyball, but also borrows from rugby, tether-ball, and the children's game one-two-three-redlight. In the pilot episode, the US Women's Olympic Volleyball team take on a bunch of balding, alcoholic, has-been, former child stars. David Hasselhoff referees.

Medium Rare (FOX)
A man has a near-fatal accident which allows him to communicate with the dead. And, he likes his steaks medium rare. And, he has a rare blood type - AB positive or something.

CSI Tulsa (CBS)
America's heartland - seemingly tranquil and mind-numbingly boring on the surface - hides much more sinister deeds. Episode 1 finds Lieutenant Bradwurst hot on the tail of an ethanol-smuggling ring.

Pimp My Pimp (Bravo)
Roosevelt "Sugar Bear" Jackson - purveyor of pleasure in the Bedford-Sty section of New York City - gets a long overdue make-over, trading in his velvet overcoat and ostrich-skin shoes for some "really fly gear". LaWanda, Jackson's top-grossing lady of leisure croons: "He lookin' some kinda fine now".

Zup? (MTV)
A team of twenty-something wanna-be filmmakers, musicians and performance artists take to the streets of New York to find out zup?

Medium Well (ABC)
A man has a near-fatal accident which allows him to communicate with the dead. And, he likes his steaks medium well. And, he pauses and says "well" a lot.

Splat! (FOX)
Teams race against the clock - and each other - looking for the biggest, shiniest, most expensive thing to throw off the roof of a skyscraper. Controversy erupts when the judges rule that the 118 watermelons, which was thrown off the New York Times Tower by Team Miller, was impressive (and colorful), but not quite as expensive as the home gym which was tossed over the side of the Conde Nast Building by Team Riddengleck.

Dumpster-Diving With My Congressman (NBC)
Ordinary citizens team up with their congressmen to see who can find the most interesting object in a dumpster behind the White Stag Mall just outside Arlington, Virginia. Controversy erupts when - oh, just watch the show. It's on Mondays at nine. What else you going to do Mondays at nine?

Battle of the 80's Sitcom Stars (ABC)
People you thought were long dead compete in incredibly trite and unfathomably tedious pursuits. The pilot episode finds Tina Yothers (Family Ties) vs. Greg Evigan (My Two Dads) in a spirited tiddly-winks competition; Alan Thicke (Growing Pains) challenges Rhea Perlman (Cheers) to a game of shuffleboard.

10 or 11 Ways to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed

I was in a doctor's office waiting room the other day. Or, maybe I was getting my oil changed; I don't remember exactly. Anyway, there was one of those so-called "women's" magazines on the table there, and emblazoned across the cover was the caption 101 Ways to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed. So, I flipped over to page 238, and there in between an ad for laundry detergent and a scratch and sniff thingy for perfume was the article. I admit, I didn't read all the items, but I read enough to know that none - and I emphatically mean none of these suggestions would drive any man "wild" - unless he'd been marooned on a deserted island or something and hadn't actually seen, smelled, or touched a woman in several years. There were things like strip poker and making a bra out of Fruit Roll-ups and such. I checked the by-line, and sure enough - the article was written by a woman. Which is kind of like having a large-mouth bass write an article on the best fishing lures to use. I mean, the bass knows the best lures to use, but do you think he's going to tell anyone?

I hope the analogy isn't lost on the reader.

In any event, no one can stick with anything long enough to do 101 of anything, so following are 10 or 11 sure-fire, slam-dunk, lead-cinch-lock ways to Drive Your Man Wild in Bed:

* Wait until the night before he leaves town on a business trip. Tell him you're having your girlfriend over the following evening, you're staying in, and getting really, really drunk.
*Tell him you've been thinking about doing that thing he really wants you to do. And, you're going to have to think about it some more. A lot more.
*Tell him your girlfriend told you she did that thing he really wants you to do with her boyfriend, and she didn't like it.
*Eat corn chips. Loudly.
*Wear the sexiest lingerie you have to bed. When he notices, bolt upright and say "I feel like such a tramp".
*Practice the kazoo.
*Come to bed in a pair of frumpy flannel pajamas with your face covered in cold cream. Ask him if he's "up for it".
*Wear the sexiest lingerie you have to bed. When he notices, bolt upright and tell him you think your yeast infection is back.
*Wait until he's almost asleep and start humming Don't Worry, Be Happy under your breath.
*Tell him you've been thinking about doing that thing he really wants you to do, and you've decided you'll do it. But, before he can touch you, you burst into tears, run to the bathroom, slam the door loudly and sob uncontrollably until he's asleep.
*Wait until he's almost asleep and whisper in his ear that you've been having an affair with his boss, or brother, or best friend. When he bolts upright in bed, remind him he still hasn't fixed that leaky faucet.

Well ladies, there it is. No need to thank me; your satisfaction is my reward.

Things That Really Bug Me: Volume One

"Easy-open" packaging:
Is there a more Orwellian misnomer? "Easy open"? If you consider requiring the use of a blow torch, a jackhammer and the "jaws of life" to get into these things easy, then I guess it is. Personally, I miss the days when things were so poorly packaged the bag would come open before you could get it home from the store. Just the other day, I stopped in at a convenience store to gas up, and picked up a bag of salted peanuts. After several minutes of unsuccessfully trying to rip the bag open (and chipping a tooth in the process), I threw it on the ground, ran over it with my car six or seven times until it was mashed into a finely granulated peanut dust, popped my hood and snagged the corner of the bag on my radiator cap. Of course, it was totally inedible at that point, but hey - it's the principle...

Four-way stop signs:
Question: If four cars meet at a four-way stop sign at the exact same instant, which one has the right-of-way? Most Popular Answer: The one in the biggest hurry. Actual Answer: No one knows! All four drivers just sit there looking at each other with that far-away, doe-in-the-headlight hypnotic gaze trying to telepathically play rock, paper, scissors to determine who goes first. I have an idea to deal with this quandary: the newest car goes first. In case of a tie, the most expensive newest car goes first. Of course, all drivers would have to keep their sales receipts and registration cards over the sun visor, so they could quickly snag and wave them out the window should the situation arise.

Carrot cake:
I'm a firm believer that it should be illegal to make a cake, pie, or any other pastry out of vegetables. Don't get me wrong, vegetables have their place. And it's waaaaaaay over on the corner of the plate where their repulsive vegetable juices can't touch, and thereby adulterate tasty foods. Vegetables certainly do not belong in cakes. Of course, carrot cake apologists always say (in a very whiny, nasally voice) "but you can't taste the carrots". Which begs the question: then why put them in there? So, here is my recipe for carrotless cake:

1. Make a cake
2. Don't put carrots in it

Cutesy cell phone ring tones:
Seriously. If I have to hear Redneck Woman, Bartender, or that drunken "rannng, rannnnnng" one more time, someone is going to the emergency room.

Instant "celebrities":
The term celebrity is generally taken to mean a person of distinction or renown. Not anymore. These days, anyone who manages to get their mug on any of the estimated 1,037 "reality" TV shows, or smashes their Mercedes-Benz into a fire hydrant on Hollywood Boulevard is deemed to be a celebrity. They can't sing, dance, juggle or engage in a coherent debate on any subject other than the hottest new shades of lip gloss, but we - in our insatiable thirst for chuckleheads to admire and emulate - are creating them by the thousands.

Bugs:
Yeah, I know they have their place in the food chain or whatever, but I say let's get rid of 'em all and see how it goes.