Would you have sex with this man?

Aside from the fact that money does not fall from the sky (seriously, if that Tokyo handout happened in NYC, I guaran-damn-tee you nobody would be turning it in) Cape Cod is a pretty amazing place. Giant sand dunes overlooking the ocean, the heady scent of pine and damp grass and sea salt, hawks and bunnies and fireflies and a really fucking bright moon... (Of course it doesn't hurt to stay in a fabulous ultra-mod pad with sweeping views of the beach and a killer pool.) While I'm happy to be home, New York is decidedly lacking in the natural beauty department. (No Kristopher, our ladies don't count.)

I spent my first day back being followed by the cats (the Prozac-prone black one still won't let me out of her sight. She follows me from room to room, shadowing me like a small, furry ghost) and catching up on crap television. SPEAKING OF, The Two Coreys?

(insert sound of head exploding)

I'm not sure what I expected (aside from brilliance) but this thing is deader than these boys' careers. (I love how in the credits they introduce Feldman as a "working actor". A-wha?) Sure it's a phony premise (whatevs, it's TV) but everything is so set up, so REHEARSED, that even the pretense of realism is gone. In the first episode (and by "first episode" I clearly mean "the five minutes that I managed to sit through") you actually see Corey Feldman waiting for his cue before "spontaneously" making out with his wife in the hot tub. (Gee, wouldn't it be funny if Corey Haim "spontaneously interrupted" them? Oh look! There he goes!)

The only redeeming thing - and it's a small one - is watching the Haimster. This dude did so many drugs that his brain is Capital F Fried. While I sound like an awful human being (Watching brain damage is fun!) he's so out of it that he's actually, dare I say, entertaining. Not entertaining enough to keep me watching, but still.

On the other hand there's Rock of Love, Bret Michael's skankfest. Here's what I love about this thing - the man has NO SHAME. He's there to live in a house with twenty of the "most beautiful women in the world" (his words, not mine) and screw as many of them as possible. No faux-redeeming "I just want to find my soulmate" booshit here - just strippers, booze, and plenty of disasterous fashion choices. How skanky is all this? In the last episode the man attached an electrode to his penis so he could measure his arousal levels while the women gave him phone sex.

Two words: Awe-some.