The magic elixir

Wow, I was in a testy mood Monday night and needed something relaxing - a nice Armenian brandy did the trick. You didn't know Armenia made brandy, did you? Me neither until recently. It's called Ararat, very tasty. (Their web site is a trip - the lead model looks like he's in the Russian mafia.)

Anyway, there were shenanigans going on around me, and, most chilling, the realization that I have been suckered by my friend Sarah into yet again watching one of the most insipid shows on the air, "The Bachelor."

This season it's really boring. No drama, no caring about any of the girls. There was a little mini-catfight Monday night, but nothing too exciting.

And I also realized yet again, I can't stand the guy who hosts the show, Chris Harrison. Ugh. What a smarmy little freak.

He does this really irritating thing when it gets to the end of the show and the bachelor has to send some of the gals packing in the "rose ceremony." Monday, six women, four roses, two go home. So the bachelor, a too-good-to-be-true English guy this season, starts giving the roses to the ones he wants to stay. Then, when there are two girls left and only one rose, Harrison comes out from wherever he has been skulking and says, "Ladies, this is the final rose" - and walks out again.

Jeezus, thanks for that news flash, Wolf Blitzer.

But the show has committed the ultimate sin this year - no great looking women in the herd. Usually there is at least a bit of fun eye candy in it, but not this time. Not one girl who would really draw a second look walking down the street in New York. Well, maybe Ashlee. But she's gone.

For shame, ABC, for shame.