The Morning After

I can't go on like this, having an affair with a TV show that's about as good for me as a deep-fried bucket of Crisco and a spoon. Every Monday morning I get up feeling, well, dirty; like my beer goggles were on too tight for the third year in a row. "The L Word" is becoming the bad relationship that wouldn't end. If I have to wake up after one more Sunday night encounter and take six showers, I don't know what I'm going to do. Oh I know what I'm going to do. Tune in next week. What a whore.

Predictably, this week's episode blew, though not as hardcore as the ones from the past few weeks. There was a little Shane nipple, albeit at the very end; some cute Army captain and Alice shenanigans, though not nearly enough; and most mercifully, there was a minimal amount of Papi. Papi - with her phony Cheech and Chong accent - might irritate me more than Jenny Schechter Goes to Hebrew Camp and I didn't think that anything could possibly be more irritating than that. Whoever the heck Helena hooked up with seriously needs to consider never being naked on screen again. As a rule, when your breasts look like deflated balloons clamped in a vise, it's time for a bra or a towel or coat of armor. And when did Bette learn sign language? It was bad enough having to watch Marlee sign "I want to be inside of you" (with a gesture that I'm pretty sure has nothing to do with being deaf), but it was downright painful having to suspend all sense of reality and figure that Bette did a little Berlitz-ing in her spare time and picked up enough signs that The Interpreter (the one who performs every signed phrase like it's Shakespeare) could "go cruise campus" or whatever it was he said. Add to this, Shane and The Amazon (aka Kristanna Loken) giving a little talk on gay rights to a bunch of 8 year olds and you've got yourself a Sunday night to forget.

And then I woke up this morning to learn from my main source of news, NY1, that it is the Chinese New Year. What year is it? Well, according to one ecstatic reveler in Chinatown, it is "The Year of the Pork." And with that, I wish you all a good year.

L Word Still On, Sunday Still Sucks

There's a little known rule in cable television about opening a show with floppy boobs and overgrown pubic hair. Apparently, The L Word didn't get the memo. After howling in horror at Max/Moira silently removing her/his "packie" and disrobing before standing in the buff and glaring at her soul patch (the little one and the big one) in front of a mirror, we cut right into the godforsaken Betty theme song and opening show graphics which never cease to get me looking around for a sharp object to stab in my eyes and ears. Every Sunday night I threaten to never watch this thing again, and every Sunday night I'm humming and gagging along to "This is the way that we live AND LOVE."

This week's episode didn't give me the usual full blown douche chills, but it came mighty close. It started with Cybill Shepherd whipping out "The Whole Lesbian Sex Book" while awkwardly groping Alice (remember Cybill did say that she had to channel her training with Stella Adler to play gay so I'm figuring she plans on winning an Oscar with this scene), moved in to Awkward-Land when Shane got cockblocked by Papi who needs to consider losing the swagger or loosening the do-rag because I'm not buying her studliness, and then burned rubber right in to Good God No-Land with Marlee Matlin getting her flirt on and calling Bette "naughty;" a word made doubly horrible because we got to hear it said by a deaf woman AND her interpreter Tom who has an uncanny ability to interpret Marlee's signs even when he's not looking at her hands. Two snaps to Jenny Schechter for being the biggest bitch on television. And two more snaps to Mia Kirshner who plays Jenny Schechter for actually breathing a hateful kind of life into an irritating character and a truly terrible show. I was yelling at the screen when Jenny ate a bowl of cereal and sing-songed at Alice about fiction-writing. Who DOES she think she is lecturing Alice on writing? Jeez. I'm not entirely certain when Jenny became the spawn of Satan (though spending some time under the Big Tent with the Hasidim could do it to anyone), but she's definitely becoming the next great bunny boiler. I just hope she doesn't go completely postal on the kindly, unsuspecting vet. She just wants to be loved and Dawn Weiner (aka Dog Face) is a workaholic! Give her a break!

I've got my fingers crossed that we'll be spared any more Cybill hay rolls and Max nude scenes, not to mention Bette firing up poolside with Marlee and the nterpreter, Papi's vendetta, and Shane not getting a little Kristanna Loken action. I can't take it any more.

Not sure how many folks besides myself hang around after "The Tudors" promos to catch the scenes from next week and the "Our Chart" - the new L Word website - pitch featuring Ilene "Never Met a Line (of coke) I Didn't Like" Chaiken, Jennifer Beals, Leisha Hailey and Kate Moennig, but it is THE perfect capper to a predictably bad episode. Everyone seems generally interested in the site except for poor Moennig who talks about it in her "sit down interview" as though she's actually admitting out loud that she's gay or has a third nipple. Leisha, for example, giggles and says she's going to be "all over The Chart." While Kate - sporting a blazer and some wicked short bangs - looks at the camera with what appear to be tears in her eyes and says that the site will feature "Out takes from the show. And blooper reels." Hearing Moennig use the word "blooper reel" is physically painful. I mean it. She says it like English is her third language probably because she can't believe she's selling the blooper reel which already sounds like a weird over-dubbing. "Please for you to view the Our Chart for amazing reel of blooper." Good lord. Can't hardly wait til next Sunday.