Lily Allen attacks!

Not sure I believe Brad would choose the nanny over Angie.

Michael Phelps opens up about pot picture.

John Stewart vs. Jim Cramer. Go.

Is Mandy Moore preggers?

If You Seek Amy video.

Get ready for some more affordable birth control!

Is Chanel for real with this?!

A little behind the “scenes” gossip from The Hills!

New Balance for Nine West. So cute!

Jessica Biel wants to marry JT. Um, who doesn’t?!

What a miserable train wreck, composed of C-list talent, constantly creative combinations of four letter words, the overuse of prescription drugs, volumes of offensive mutterings and creepy Full House pedophilia jokes. Ah, but hell, it’s funny.It’s like a car wreck – you know you shouldn’t look, but you can’t help yourself. Comedy Central Roasts are always a hot mess – a crew of C-list pseudo-stars drinking heavily and tearing each other apart all the while dropping f-bombs and vulgar sexual references. Perhaps part of the allure lies in the chance to see offensive and inappropriate behavior in a societal sea of politeness.

Bob Saget, the highly irritating Danny Tanner and silly video voiceover dude we all grew up hating, was clearly a last-ditch choice after thousands of other actual celebrities turned down the chance to be roasted. The last poor sap to accept the offer was Flavor Flav- how can you top that kind of celebrity star power? Yes, I’m being sarcastic, but the pinnacle of comedy has to be Snoop Dogg referring to the little clock-wearing freak as a cracked out midget in a Viking helmet.

Pretty-boy John Stamos and the rest of the Full House cast were there, sans the Olsen Twins of course, who were the topic of many sexual/ eating disorder/ molestation/ pedophilia jokes. An aging Uncle Joey, Aunt Becky, DJ and Stephanie peppered the crowd with other random has-beens like the guy from Quantum Leap.

An uber-creepy and highly unfunny Norm McDonald bombed, reading his awful G-rated jokes from index cards while an array of confused audience members looked on. Eyesore Jeff Ross, savage-looking Brian Posehn, ear-splitting Gilbert Godfrey and older-than-water Cloris Leachman offered intermittent laughs while Saget looked on, laughing awkwardly and looking slightly confused.

Jeff Garlin and Jim Norton presented sets that were slightly amusing at best, while income-earning stars like Sarah Silverman, Lewis Black and Don Rickles ‘phoned it in’, offering brief, insulting, videotaped salutes to the tall creepy Saget. Greg Giraldo and Susie Essman (where do you find these people, and has anyone heard of them?) certainly cracked me up and Jon Lovitz always delivers. All in all, it’s low-brow, despicable and exploitational comedy at its brightest. Its offensive, politically incorrect and almost painful to watch, I’ll admit. Cringe-worthy, raunchy, oddly humorous and downright mean, its short-attention span theater for people that can’t help but laugh at the misfortune of others or strangers falling in public.

Even McTeeny was McDreamy–and he could juggle!

OMG, it’s so annoying when my wedding dress totally rips apart at the altar

Breaking News: The JoBros continue to get hotter

In a related story, Corey Haim continues in the other direction

Ending a relationship is a lot like last call at a bar

What? A reality show that is funny on purpose?

Sex Fact #5: engaging in any non-missionary sexual position is illegal in DC.

Longing for some jazzy, instrumental theme music–oh, and true love?

Zachery Ty Bryan is still alive–and being tasered

Tina Fey is far funnier than Sarah Silverman. While I applaud both women, Ms. Fey’s comedy is more polished, snarkier, and smarter. I like Sarah Silverman and was disappointed when Comedy Central stopped playing her show. I think if they’d given it some more time, I might think differently about Ms. Silverman’s abilities.

Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s funny. Trust me, I’m all about crude. If you’re a lover of Cervantes, Rabelais, Boccaccio, etc., you gotta be crude to appreciate those dudes. And that’s just a short, short list of the classics that abound with ribaldry – I’ll spare you the list of contemporaries (and for me, an index of “contemporaries” begin in the nineteenth century).

To be sure, I like that both these comediennes are crude. Again, I think it’s clear that I appreciate and relish vulgar forms of humor, but Ms. Silverman’s whole shtick is simply too unrefined, and that bothers me. Again, I’m not blaming her for being “less” funny than Ms. Fey, as I blame the fact that her show wasn’t allowed to blossom. I hope she’ll find another niche, say HBO, and she’ll have a similar show, and her weirdness and crudity will be put to the test, and for more than just a few seasons.

Unfortunately, television has a knack for cutting shows too soon. It’s similar to the music industry. It’s nothin’ but crappy, one hit songs, belted out by a thirteen year old girl/guy that matters these days, and that’s a shame, because the whole industry is run by a bunch of old men who don’t appeal to a wider range of Americans and are only lookin’ to make a buck, so that they can roll around in their RRs, smoke Cubans, and live in their over-sized Malibu manses.

But getting back to Ms. Fey. I’ll just say, I’m in awe. 30 Rock is absurdly funny, and we must thank Ms. Fey for that. I mean, Liz Lemon talks about poop and stuff, but the subtexts are far wittier than anything I saw on Ms. Silverman’s show. Ms. Silverman was too caught up in making fun of herself by obsessing about herself. As a viewer, it filled me with TV-viewing ennui, and I lost interest. It’s like, OK, OK, OK. I get it, Ms. Silverman, you’re self-obsessed, you’re narcissistic, you’re SO disgusting that you make fun of AIDS, blah-de-blah. And, like I said, I laughed at a lot of your stuff, but there’s a point, as my old friend use to say, when “you take it too far.”

That’s exactly what Ms. Fey’s character in 30 Rock and the stuff she wrote for Saturday Night Live doesn’t and didn’t do, i.e. flail about on the same old tired theme. See, witty, biting stuff has to show restraint. It’s not easy to rein in your humor, particularly when you’re talented humorists like Ms. Fey and Ms. Silverman. But it’s critical, absolutely critical, if you wanna captivate your audience for more than a few hours, or say two seasons.

Granted I chuckled at the “I’m F*king Matt Damon.” video. It was pretty good, but I guess I get sick of her lack of subtlety. Of course, humorists aren’t supposed to show restraint and subtlety. If they did t

hat all the time, they (obviously) wouldn’t be funny. Where would all those quirky, unrefined punch lines go if they were all about subtlety and restraint? But Ms. Silverman insists on pushing the envelope in everything she creates, and that gets old. If you do that, if you never show restraint, if you’re always, always over-the-top, then people will just yawn after all your acts. Why? Because they already expect you to push the skit, the idea, whatever to the limits. In a word, it’s called overkill.

And Ms. Fey’s style of humor is anything but.

On episode 4, the FOL people waste no time introducing the challenge: split into two teams for a Flavorette Roast. Cringe. Each team will be coached by some unfamous comedienne to write jokes about one person from the other team. The winning team gets a date, the master roaster gets the solo date.

Remember the Flav roast on Comedy Central? Snoop saved that mess.

Anyway, team one consists of Shy, the Things, Prancer, Myammee and Sinceer and team two has Bee-Ex, Bunz, Grayvee, Hotlanta and Seezinz.

Team one wants to target Hotlanta. They throw around things like, “Looks like she got ten stomachs”; “monkey hands”; “stripper.” What? Then someone says something about a herpes bump on her lip. Oh. Sh*t.

Team two targets Shy. And again, I hear phrases like “Homey the Clown”; “Bad hands/feet/clothes”; and Hotlanta says – “Periodontal disease”? That’s a super formal word. How does a stripper know about that stuff?

These unfamous coaches seem superfluous (I know fancy words, too, Hotlanta) and then the girls go down to the Improv where Sommore (who might have been at the Flav roast, too) hosts.

The person being roasted has to sit up on stage and I feel badly for Hotlanta before they even start; especially after Shy busts out with the “I want her to cry.”

The audience is full – did these people pay for this? Or did they just donate canned goods for the house?

Sommore calls up Prancer from team one first and calls her Bambi after a ghetto makeover. Sommore just won a new fan.

The ripping on Hotlanta’s not so bad; baby daddies, her waddle, stripper – and then the Things talk about the “herp” on her lip. Flav was laughing and then he heard “herp” and he’s freaked out because he’s scared of bumps. Yo, so am I.

Shy goes up and makes it clear that she’s on this show to because she is desperate for a reality show of her own.

So then team two goes up to roast Shy. Bee-Ex talks about her 42 teeth and stank breath but everyone else on her team is an embarrassment. Wow, they suck, each one worse than the previous one. They’re better when not fully scripted. Hotlanta is the worst-izzle. Really. Izzle.

Grayvee is the last to go up and Flav says that her accent is so kuntry that he can’t understand her. Ouch.

When the pain that is listening to team two ends, Flav goes up to ask the audience to choose a winner. Like it’s not obvious that team one took it and that Shy would be the audience’s favorite.

Bee-Ex is pissed. Yeah, you should be; you were the only decent one on your team.

Shy and Flav go on their solo date immediately to the aquarium and Flav’s hair is like 4 feet high. I stop paying attention until I hear something about a shark tank – Shy gets in, Flav gets in and then he gets out because a shark rubs up against him. Fair enough. They eat dinner surrounded by tanks and Flav kisses Shy and confirms that she does indeed have stank breath. When he offered her breath mints, she didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe she embraces her periodontal disease.

So after the date, Hotlanta goes in to see Flav after trying on lingerie and practicing her booty pops in the mirror. I’m so confused by that 45 seconds of the lingerie and booty pop, new lingerie and booty pop, especially since they end up laying down together. Did they edit out the actual booty pop for Flav? And how does someone actually do that with cameras around while living with 45 insane women?

They talk and Flav is distracted by the herp. To be fair, I think that she’s just got a pimple. Flav is all camera-emphatic about ‘getting to the bottom of this.’ Oh, geeze, how?

Next day – group date. I’m so bored. I expected more of a mess and I am dying for the end to come. Flav takes Bee-Ex along for the group date, which is nice for her because she hadn’t been on one yet. The Things are wearing matching clothes. Do they always do that? How have I not noticed this before?

They all go to Raging Waters Water Park. Fun!

Back at the house, Dr. Gene Rubenstein shows up to stick Hotlanta’s herp/pimple with a needle to test it. Ow, ow, ow, OW!!

On the date, when they all sit down for lunch, Flav steps away from the table, probably because the producers told him to, and the Things start telling Bee-Ex that she looks familiar, like they’ve seen her in a club and yeah, shut up, no you haven’t. Bee-Ex says something about her cousin bringing her to an award show. Who cares?

After this date, the Things go up to Flav’s room and that stupid hot tub scene that they’ve showed us 93 times since the show premiered finally happens. They tell Flav that Bee-Ex is in the “entertainment circle” but they are speaking in such vague terms and he’s so distracted, they might as well be admitting to their own herpes.

Bee-Ex comes in to talk to Flav, she admits to having been on “Fear Factor” and I hate the Things for just talking to talk because it’s all bullsh*t. “Fear Factor” doesn’t count.

So then Gravyee shows up with pig’s feet and Flav and I have the same need to puke.

FINALLY we have eliminations.

When it’s down to Hotlanta, Bee-Ex and Grayvee, Flav asks Big Rick for an envelope, which hold the results to Hotlanta’s needle in the herp/pimple. If she’s got a herp, she has to go. Which is ri-effing-diculous. He has NO idea what disease soup is lurking in anyone else’s pants. Plus, he’s Flavor Flav. Has he looked in the mirror?

Anyway, so it’s just a freaking zit and Hotlanta gets her chain.

Grayvee gets sent home for being too kuntry. I’m sure that Yvonne will meet a nice man who shares her love for pig’s feet one day.

Next time: I don’t even care.

Last week, Johnny Boy performed a little impromptu comedy routine at New York’s Comedy Cellar, most of which was caught and posted on YouTube. The little bit I was able to watch included a bit about Carrie Underwood’s newest song and John’s inclination to wear tight clothes (why he’s broadcasting this fact is beyond me, but hey, just because I have a rabid distaste for hipster fashion doesn’t mean the rest of the world does).

The dude isn’t bad—believe me, I’ve seen some horrible comedy since coming to the city that never shuts up—but he isn’t that awesome either. He’s got a good presence and seems very down to earth and knowledgeable about his celerity status, but he’s no Dane “Pre Giant Amounts of Success” Cook.

My take? (since you asked, darlings) There’s something there, but before he gets his own special on Comedy Central, Johnny might want to work on that special thing called the funniness factor.

His other choice is to write a song about me and put it on his next album. If he wants to do that, I’ll think him the most hilarious man in the world.