Levels of pissivity

Gentlemen, gather around - today, it's all about you.

Not in a posting about beer, football and crapping in a hole in the ground in the woods kind of way, but in a nod your head at your desk in your cube, while the women in the office - were they to walk by - would ask, "What the hell is he talking about?" kind of way.

That's the long way 'round to my discussion on the Lady TV hosts that drive me crazy and categorizing the three biggest offenders by the level to which I have a violent reaction.

The Girl has her shows like I have my shows. The running joke is that the Food Network is her ESPN and that's not so much of a joke anymore. She watches it too much in my opinion like I watch sports too much in her opinion. If she could fork over an additional $200 to watch cooking competitions from around the nation, I bet we'd have that like we order our Extra Innings package.

The Passable - Great Hotels with Samantha Brown isn't too bad, but she's way too perky, makes stupid puns and over-involved set ups and plays to the camera in a more pandering way than the Teletubbies.

I always feel like she's 10 seconds away of telling me the fun things to do in the Fort Lauderdale area for those who have been kicked in the head by a mule.

All told, I can live with this show in small doeses, like once a day or less.

Still, some of the hotels are cool, but there's no way that normal people can watch this show and start planning vacations or anything (on the show we saw tonight, the fucking cabana cost $150 a day).

I guess they'd have no show if she stayed at the HoJo's and Holiday Inn's of the Upper Plains, but still. Tonight I found out she is getting another show to pander, lame-ass joke and perk away on.

Why? Was the outcry for a third Sam Brown show so great that they simply couldn't keep her off the air any longer?

You know who I think should have three shows?

Flavor Flav, that's who.

You're Pushing Me, Lady - Stacy London of What Not to Wear pushes me into the world of outright irritation.

She yaks and pokes fun and tells people that their wardrobes suck - which, in all fairness, they usually do - all the while looking like The Nanny's ill-tempered older sister.

This usually gets old around the four-minute mark. Here's the thing - the new gimmick is to embarass the victim in front of their friends, families and co-workers. This strikes me as a bit counterproductive in the long run.

If I came to your place of business, bitch-slapped you and called you ugly, would you want to listen to anything I said after that? It's one thing to claim you're a fashion expert - yes, apparently you need to go to Vassar to qualify for that (Class of '91) - it's another to make someone feel like shit because they're out making a living instead of reading fashion magazines in bed and calling your friends to discuss what dresses you loved at the Oscars three weeks ago.

Much like most of these shows, the whole thing boils down to a few vital parts - throw out anything made with puff paint, make sure your pants are tailored or at least fit and, Lord almighty, don't ever wear the same clothes you did in high school, even if you can still fit in them - but that doesn't make good TV, so they might as well take a dump on someone while they're at it.

The whole package might be a bit easier to swallow if she wasn't such a bitch throughout the whole thing and tried to be a bit more supportive before the 21-minute mark in the show. It's like they flip a switch on her back and she turns into Princess Sunshine, praising that week's sucker for picking out clothes that don't look like they came from a hooker clown college.

Banned in the Household As Long As I Have a Pulse - This brings us to the Queen Bee of pissing me off tothe highest level of pissivity.

Rachel Ray.

Another one who everyone but me has apparently writing non-stop to the networks beg them to slap her mug on every channel possible every hour of the day and night.

I mean, Jesus...

I nearly began foaming at the mouth when I saw her on the Ritz cracker box a few weekends ago and had a pre-emptive apology from The Girl, who swears she didn't see Rachel Ray on the box before she bought it.

I wish I could believe that.

This swamp donkey is obnoxious to no end and her show drives me batshit crazy. About the only real entertainment value I get from the show is seeing her and knowing there are rumors that a.) her husband pays women hundreds of dollars to spit on him - heh - and b.) that he also requested things so disgusting that a hooker said no, regardless of the money involved.

I imagine this playing out like that scene in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back where Jay is so vile he makes a hooker quit.

According to The Girl, Ray has been told to knock that shit off or they're going to pull the plug on her new talk show as well, which I think is beyond awesome. She's running around, hopped up on sugar and oven cleaner and I can't understand half of the things that come out of her mouth and get driven crazy by the other half.

Would the ratings be that much worse if they ran non-stop episodes of Good Eats in her place?

The half-assed money-making scheme of the week? A grown-up version of the V-Chip that would block these three women and any other shows the viewer deems craptacular.

I'd keep this on the down-low in the in-store ads so the ladies wouldn't catch on, but I'd also include a short, 30-minute prep session on how to say, "Why no, honey, I think the Food Network isn't carried by our cable company anymore. I hear that Rachel Ray stabbed an intern and the lawsuit that followed bankrupted the network." without smiling from ear to ear.

(ButtermilkPress.com / Vassar.edu / Discovery.com)