I'm A Celebrity. Well, Sort Of.

Summer's here, which, as usual, means there's nothing to watch on TV. No Idol, no 30 Rock, no gaggle of penicillin-swilling skanks chasing after Bret Michaels---it's bad. So bad, in fact, that I almost picked up a book last night. A book, people. From the library.

But then, happily, I saw that there's a new trainwreck over at the NBC depot. Yes, kids, stock up the liquor cabinet, refill those prescriptions and get ready to lower your standards because I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here has officially started its 3-week assault on our fine country. Lord help us all.

Now, when I first saw the line-up of this show, in which famous people are dropped in a Costa Rican jungle, I was immediately offended, because judging by the producers' assessment of who exactly they consider to be a "celebrity", I, too, should have been offered a slot. After all, I once used a Porta-Potty next to Tiffani-Amber Thiessen at the premiere party for Big Mama's House. And that's got to make me slightly more famous than Torrie Wilson, Frangela and John Salley, right?

The other Z-list cast members include Lou Diamond Phillips, Janice Dickinson, a mohawked Sanjaya (who, in a very scary scene, eagerly offers to give LDP a daily foot massage), Patty Blogdonovich, wife of the hair-do who just got impeached in Chicago, and the ugly Baldwin brother who looks like the missing link if the missing link was covered in bad sanskrit tattoos and had a motherfuckin' overbite.

The most famous of this bunch are the illustrious Heidi and Spencer from The Hills, a show I accidentally watched once when I was on Benadryl and couldn't find the remote. Apparently, these two brainiacs just got married, because they're constantly referring to each other as "husband" and "wife" and chirp about how they're now "Christians." Gag. I think at one point even the monkeys in the treetops were yelling, "Douche, go home!"

Now, I don't know much about Spencer, besides the fact that blondes should never have beards or they'll look like vagina faces, but after watching him go off on everyone and then call the producers and whine that, "these nobodies here are demeaning mine and Heidi's celebrity," I have to wonder whether he's a) the best actor on the planet or b) fucking batshit crazy. (Psst! I think it's 'b'.)


The first episode was pretty much comprised of the celebrities being dumped in the jungle, then put through the standard "challenges" of eating things like scorpions and rat tails. Nobody seemed too upset by this, but probably just because they know the value of a free meal.

The show ended the night with the two hosts, who are even less famous than the "stars," if that's even possible, putting the celebs into some tank of danger where various insects come out and crawl all over them. You know, just like a regular night at Sanjaya's one-bedroom apartment in Chatsworth. Bam!

So, who will stay? Who will go? Who the hell is even going to watch this show? Well, me I guess. After all, it's not a book.