Even at "prime time" there's still nothing on...

I could complain about Jimmy, but at this point, I think we can all agree that opinion #3 becomes a superfluous Fallon-Flogging, and I really have no interest in late shows anymore. I used to watch Jay (or rather, Jay's chin) and occasionally Conan would provide me some amusement, but I didn't like Jimmy Fallon on SNL, I'm certainly going to loathe him on late night television.

That being said, prime time television blows. During football season, I have a reason to turn on my television on Monday nights, and sometimes on Thursdays. I briefly entertained the idea of getting into Lost, and promptly wanted to rip my eyes from my skull after five minutes, going "WTF?" Lost leaves me just that, lost, and it's probably my own fault, since the only channel I watch on a regular basis is

This past Monday, I was channel surfing, because I was tired of hearing about the two football players lost off the coast of Florida (those guys are shark food) and March Madness really hasn't hit me yet.

I will, however, take this moment to shamelessly plug the lady Terps,

who are gonna take the NCAA Championship AGAIN!

That being said, there was NOTHING ON TELEVISION. Nada, zip, zero, zilch worth watching, and somehow (because God is occasionally cruel) I found myself watching the last episode of The Bachelor.

I hate reality television, but more than reality television, I hate reality dating shows, and the Bachelor/Bachelorette is at the top of my loathe-list. Reality TV isn't even reality anymore; in the first 15 minutes of any given show, I can tell you what's going to happen for the rest of the season. Seriously, it's a gift, and it occasionally scares people, my reality ESP. When I tuned in to the last episode of this horrifically bad show (right up there with Survivor) the Bitch, I mean, Bachelor, a single dad named Jason, was down to two women: the perky, bubbly, sweet faced brunette whom everyone loves, and the sexy, sultry, fun-loving blond, whom everyone wants to bend over a bar stool. Not saying the brunette wasn't sexy, because she was, but the blond had that je ne sais quoi, that indefinable something that says "I like it in the rear." The brunette was girl-next-door sweet, and while you can do all kinds of nasty things to the girl next door, she'll make you cookies afterward.

My immediate reaction to this scenario was thus: He's gonna pick the brunette, because she'll be better with his son, but he's gonna regret it, and shit's gonna hit the fan.

Sure enough, he ditches the sultry blond, who was devastated, and proposes to the brunette, who jumped in the pool with him and his son while wearing an unflattering evening gown. Five minutes after this episode ended, the "After the Final Rose" episode came on (I'm not kiddding, that's what they call this crap) and sure enough, he decided that "things had changed" with his brunette fiancee, and he thought he'd made a mistake, and he rips her heart out on t.v., albeit without a live studio audience, because ABC has a heart (or so they'd like us to think.) He then tells the blond, whom he had previously rejected, that she was the one for him.

And the dumb blond takes him back.

It figures. I assume you have to be a few brain cells short of a functioning tard to go on shows like this looking for a husband, but to be rejected for another woman on television, and then told "oops, looks like I was wrong," and fall for it, wow. Just...wow.

I hate television. If it weren't for ESPN and my DVD player, I wouldn't own one.