I'll refrain from commenting on his level of competence as a game show panelist and television personalilty. After all, I didn't get on the damn panel either. And no one from Access Hollywood is banging on my door.

Here's his interview about the realtionship with Lance. The clock is now ticking on how long before this becomes the most tired, over-exposed couple on the gay planet.

He completed nine segments before being informed that Refused TV had been cancelled, and these little clips wound up with no homes of their own! They seem to work perfectly for internet audience consumption, which likes its laughs in small, bite-size portions.

Favorite Posts: The Little House on the Prairie Blind School Fire: A Celebration!

When Julie in My Office Revealed She Had No Idea Who Shot JR

"The portentous tone, glacial pacing, faux-mythic inspirational themes and Ed Wood-level dialogue are all present and accounted for, but his much-vaunted storytelling skills are nowhere to be found." The Star Telegram

"Lady in the Water challenges us to believe in the power of myth. But the big challenge here is surviving the tedium of Shyamalan's meandering inventiveness. What's supposed to be fanciful storytelling is really just audience punishment." Salon.com

"The movie is a muddle, burdened with too many characters and a sorry lack of thrills, flair and coherence." Rolling Stone

"Shyamalan's most alienating and self-absorbed project to date." Entertainment Weekly

Beautiful but deadly, shrewd and feminine on the outside, super-strength robotics and dangerous sharklike instincts on the inside. Could kiss a man and break his neck in the next second.

In short, everything I could ever hope to be in life.

This episode, "Kill Oscar," was part of a three-part fembot storyline. Back then, two-parters were par for the television course, but you knew the story was gonna be eye-popping riveting goodness if it took THREE WHOLE EPISODES to tell it. I mean, it was no longer just television, it was IMPORTANT! And The Six Million Dollar Man actually crossed-over in parts 2 and 3 to help Jamie. Unprecedented!

Jamie Sommers goes up against supervillain John Houseman, who has perfected his robotic female replicas. Their mission? Kidnap important secretaries in the OSI and assume their identities.

Houseman's ultimate goal was to hold the world ransom with his awe-inspiring weather-control device, able to whip up a Level 5 hurriane anyplace in the world within seconds. I'm not quite sure why, if he had such a phenomenal weapon as a weather device, he had to separately take time away to invent evil female robots as well, but I guess that's why I'm not a super-villain.

This episode scared me almost as much as the Little House blind school fire, and this scene, the climacitc battle that ended the first of the three parts is the reason why.

I'd get her on the phone and ask her to clarify the statement, but she'll come right back at me with "Why? You're going to put this on your blog, AREN'T YOU??" Moms are shrewd like that.

Thanks, mom, for going to Orange County and getting my birth certificate for me so I can go with the family on the cruise to Jamaica.

Shriltess World Cup Studs at Lone Star Verve

From D-Listed, Matthew McConaughey had better lay off the McMilkyWays!

Yes, everyone in their mid-thirties. I'm talking about the blind school fire.

Generally, this show was a sweet, old-fashioned confection, always topped off at the end with a lovely Landon-ized moral, most often something along the lines of "it's not nice to make fun of fat kids," "it's not nice to make fun of stuttering kids," "don't cheat on your math test," "it's not nice to make fun of kids with one leg seven inches shorter than the other," "progress is bad bad bad!," or "never hide in an ice house that has a trick lock on the outside."

But every so often, Landon would slap us viewing sheep upside the head with some perectly repugnant horror story, like a little girl getting raped by a mask-donning psycho, morphine addicts blowing chunks on camera, ma going crazy and trying to gnaw off her own leg, or parents rolling off a fifty foot cliff and crashing into a ravine as their newly orphaned kids wept in the panic of total abandonment.

Also, on occasion, one of the Ingalls kids would get shot in the head, suffer a stroke, get mauled by a pack of wild dogs, or drown in the local lake.

But all of those pale in comparison to the infamous blind school fire.

Television wasn't promoted to the extent it is now, where you're pretty much told all week long what to expect on the next episode. So kids in the seventies would plunk themselves down to watch their favorite shows, bowl of chocolate chip ice cream in hand, expecting nothing more than the ultimately upbeat Little House morality plays they were used to seeing, week after week.

Then this crazy shit goes down, and none of them slept for the next month.

Let's take a frame-by-frame look at the scariest-ass piece of 80's television this side of Gary Coleman getting his cornhole fingered by Gordon Jump On Diff'rent Strokes.

Butt-Ugly Ingalls Foster Child and Anonymous Day Player are toking up in the basement of the blind school. Okay, so far the episode is shaping up to be nothing more than a cautionary tale on the dangers of tobacco and disobeying ma and pa.


Several minutes later - oops! Okay, but everyone will make it out safely and it will be like that episode of Happy Days where Chachi accidentally burns down Arnolds. A cautionary tale on fire safety and owning up to one's mistakes. After all, this is family hour television. Nice production work, though.


Adam: "Mary, the blind school is on fire. We need to save all the blind orphans."
Mary: "Okay, let me just tuck in my baby. He rolled over for the first time tonight. I wish one of us had vision."


Mary: "Be sure to grab the backgammon set. It's worth five dollars."


Good-hearted long-standing third-string character Alice Garvey hears crying and busts into the room to get the baby. Oh, thank god. All will be saved, and this will be a cautionary tale on rescuing crying babies from fires, or something like that.


Finding it difficult to make an exit down the burning staircase, Alice heads for the upstairs window and uses Baby Ingalls as a battering ram. But apparently a single pane of 1870's glass proves too much for her, and she and the baby go down in flames accompanied by a distrubing amount of screams. Meanwhile, blind Mary and Adam and all the blind orphans sit outside and watch... well, not so much watch as point their faces in what they hope to be the general direction of the conflagration, proving that while stutterers, hobblers, and fat-asses can still make positive contributions, blind people are basically useless drains on pioneer society.


Okay, what the fuck is going on here? Is this Little House or an Irwin Allen disaster flick? I signed up for an hour of light-hearted wilderness merrymaking. Where's the lovable drunken frump Mr. Edwards? Where's that half-witted gork Carrie? Why couldn't she get torched? Where's the prairie bitch? Where's Manly? Where's Half Pint for god's sake?


Charles goes dead-baby hunting and hey! He comes up a winner. Another Ingalls kid bites the dust, but at least the horses will eat tonight.

As the camera winds through the smokey wreckage, nine year old Gary Green is torn. Do I run out of the room and admit to my parents I'm being terrified by an epsiode of fucking Little House and need a re-assuring hug, or do I suck it up? My trust in television has been irrevocably shaken. What's next? Jennifer Hart getting anally raped by a hot hair iron? Captian Stubing gutted like a salmon by guest star Barbi Benton?


Poor actress playing Alice Garvey asked Heir Landon for a pay raise, and now she's been Fajita-fied right off the show. Husband and son gawk at wrapped up body. The way this episode was going, why bother with a sheet? Why not just show the two of them hugging and kissing Alice's steaming, roasted loins? Instead, husband curses god and asks for directions to the neareat pine box outlet store.


Baboon-faced Ingalls Foster Fuck overhears the fire was caused by a pipe in the basement.


Mary wakes up from a ten day morphine-induced praire nap, "Oh, I'm so refreshed! You know, I'm so fortunate. I've survived scarlet fever. I've lost my vision, but I can still look on the sunny side of life. Hey... where's my baby?"

"Uh, Mary, sit down. I have some news. I hope you take this well."


Unfortunately, Mary does not take it well. Jesus Christ! Am I actually seeing the slit-open wrists of Melissa Sue Anderson? Is that Ingalls blood spilling down the facade of Nellie's family restaurant? That definitely won't be good for business.

Mary ends up going bananas. Blind and bananas. Good thing she's already landed a man.

At least we get to see Prairie Bitch for a moment. She's a hoot! And no amount of tragedy will keep her from donning that oversized donkey bow.


Yay, though I walk through the shadow of death, yadda yadda yadda. I hope the Ingalls' get a family rate at that cemetery.


Then suddenly it's just over. I've soiled my pj's, and I get abruplty smacked out of it with the traditional end credits, snappy upbeat music, and Melissa Gilbert skipping through the fields and pretending she's a bird? Hasn't she heard the news? Is she just in denial?

Of course the biggest question of all is, do I have ANYTHING better to be doing on a Saturday afternoon than create this post? Couldn't I be reading a book? Getting some fresh air and exercise? Hey wait, aren't I currently unemployed?