There was almost a moment of sweetness, though, when they reunited a nice military lady with her husband who was stationed in Korea, and sweet music played and the couple kissed each other softly, but then Jessica broke the mood by bellowing into her mike, "She's gonna get her some tonight!" Real classy move, lady love.

And then, when they dragged Willie Nelson onstage with a guitar, and there he was, an American legend, playing "These Boots Were Made for Walkin'" while Jessica sang along in her baby voice and shook her ass and giggled? Look, even the assembled red-blooded American males weren't into it. Willie friggin' Nelson! Jessica barely even looked in his direction, so entranced was she by making a freakish spectacle of herself. What kind of a deranged moron dreamt this up? It was like putting Frank Sinatra onstage with Carmen Electra, and having him hum while Electra pole-dances.

When Willie walked onstage again about an hour later, I breathed a big sigh of relief. What would he play? "You Are Always on My Mind" as an ode to the folks back home? Maybe something off one of his recent, brilliant albums? No. He sang the theme song to "The Dukes of Hazzard." Jessica's starring in the remake, remember?

When you really sit and ponder the minds that put this excruciatingly idiotic show together, it's enough to make you lose all faith in humankind. Don't do that, though. Instead, buy Willie Nelson's "Teatro" right now, and together, we'll restore a little order to a deeply imbalanced universe. No, I don't get a cut. Buy it from your local record store, for all I care. Just buy it. It'll be one of the best CDs in your collection, I personally guarantee it -- but not in any legally binding way, of course.

Boxed out
More proof of universal imbalance: the finale of "The Contender," which packed more punch than the finales of "The Apprentice," "Survivor" and "American Idol" combined, drew mediocre ratings, perhaps for the last time. Let me just remind those of you unfamiliar with "The Contender" that, in this finale, people don't vote or get fired by Donald Trump or sing horrible Disney-style songs. They hit each other in the face.

Wouldn't it be nice if, instead of staging complicated promotional events, the sanctimonious yuppies of "The Apprentice" just stepped into a ring and beat the living daylights out of each other? Wouldn't it be refreshing to see Fireman Tom and the Great Manipulator Katie duke it out for the million-dollar prize on "Survivor"? Wouldn't we prefer that Carrie Underwood scratch Bo Bice's eyes out, instead of conjuring a teary-eyed mix of Judy Garland and Shania Twain?

Luckily, I've been rooting for winner Sergio Mora ("the Latin Snake"!) all season, mostly because he's smart, funny, genuine, and kept saying all season that he wanted to win so his poor Mommy would never have to work again. Aww! He's read lots of good books and writes in a journal and although he seemed to be boxing mostly for the promise of taking care of his family, he also looked the fastest and the smartest in the ring. The Latin Snake was a dodgy one! Plus, he never stirred up trouble in the house, and he was always nice to Alfonso Gomez, my other favorite.

Alfonso Gomez! What a great guy. He's little and everyone underestimated him, but he asked to box Peter Manfredo, who everyone considered the best boxer, and he won against him in the first round of fights. Sadly, though, he made it to the final four and then lost. When his dad kissed him on the shoulder after his fight to reassure him that everything would be OK, I burst out crying. (OK, like I said, my psyche has been irretrievably weakened by all these finales, but trust me, it was a really touching moment.)

Then, in the finale, Alfonso won against the other final-four loser, which meant he won $200,000 and a truck! Hurray for Alfonso and Sergio!

It's sort of sad that "The Contender" got such crappy ratings. The show probably belongs on ESPN instead. With a post-SportsCenter crowd and maybe a half-hour format, it's tough to imagine it not becoming a favorite among boxing fans. I'm not a huge boxing fan, so I don't know. Boxing fans? Thoughts?

Our tang
Hey guys, wouldn't it be great if you were rich and famous and could get all the girls you ever wanted, or at least knew someone who was? That way, you wouldn't have to sit around all day, staring at your 50-inch television and dreaming up new ways to get laid!

Then again, if "Entourage" (season premiere June 5 at 9 p.m. on HBO) is at all accurate, even when you're rich and famous, you'll still waste most of your time obsessing about where your next piece of ass is going to come from. "Living from ass to mouth" is, I believe, what they call this way of life, common among those gourmands so addicted to fresh meat they can't think of anything else.

Now, during the first eight half-hour episodes of "Entourage," Vince the movie star and his friends talked about nothing but hot girls, plus the occasional script, but it was easy to assume that the second season would build on the first, with Vince's career in full swing and the boys growing at least occasionally weary of harpooning fresh poon all day long.

Not so. Instead, we get all the same stories as the first season, all over again: Vince is hesitant to do a blockbuster, Eric is whipped by his lame girlfriend, Johnny Drama wants a part in pretty much anything, and Turtle is as horny, whiny and charmless as ever.

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