Lord of the dance

For the past couple of months my Supermodel Wife has been torturing me, and it finally all ended yesterday.

She was addicted to a show on one of the major television networks (they all look the same to me) called Dancing with the Stars. Basically, it's one of those shows where they take former celebrities and make them do stupid shit with so-called experts. In this case, the non-stars were paired with professional dancers in a four-month dance-off.

It mercifully ended last night. Needless to say that I wasn't into the show – probably for the same reason that I don't ovulate and complain about breast tenderness. I mean, I don't want to say the show is ghey, but when Carson Kressley first saw it, he said "Damn, that show is gay!"

But I did want to make one point of criticism.

THIS THING IS SO FUCKIN' RIGGED!

I mean come on, we all know Jerry Rice was the clear winner. But do you think the judges would actually let a black man win? Hell no! They gave the top nod on a silver platter to that pansy boy band dropout Drew Lachey.

Puleeez! If there is any justice left in the world, there will be a congressional investigation. I have a dream that some day, a man will be judged by the quality of his ball room dancing, rather than the color of his skin.

In the meantime, bring on The Sopranos (debuts March 12, 9 p.m. diggity!).
tagged: television, dancing, Drew Lachey, Jerry Rice, pop culture, ballroom, Sopranos, Carson Kressley