Hey, y’all. This is not about TV. Feel free to skip down to the Battlestar post.

Still here? Okay. I have a new blogging job. Someone is paying me to write about famous people and the famous or non-famous people they have intercourse with. If you enjoy my cranky rantings about Gossip Girl and affection for obscure sports, you might also enjoy reading what I write about famous people and their COMPLETELY FASCINATING romantic entanglements. Or you could just throw a poor blogger some traffic.

The site is YourTango. The blog is Celeb Love. Today I wrote about Cloris Leachman and everyone she nailed in the ’70s. It’s a brave new media world.

This week on Gossip Girl, Blair and Nate are shagging, Chuck and Vanessa are teaming up against them to salve their wounded hearts egos, Serena is back with her obnoxious socialite friend Poppy Whatshernuts, Rufus is going to sell the loft and move in with Lily so Dan can go to Yale (because selling real estate in this market to fund your kid’s overpriced education is a great idea!), and Eric and Jonathan are back! Yay. Oh, and Dan is a knob.

Can you tell they’re totally doing it in real life?

Now, I know that the Gossip Girl Reality Index is about at the level of the Nikkei these days, but some things really get to me. Like the amount of stuff these people manage to get done before school. Does the first bell at Constance/St. Jude ring at 1 p.m.? For crying out loud, the entire Humphrey clan trooped from Brooklyn to the Upper East Side for breakfast. On a school day! I can barely find time to shove a granola bar in my mouth and I have a 30-block commute. Aha! Dan said they were having breakfast at 8 a.m. My high school started at 7:20. The rich really are different.

So the Blair-Nate-Vanessa-Chuck love cube had a tepid little explosion this week. Blair tried to rekindle her since-we-were-six-years-old lurve with Nate, while Manbangs attempted to assert his independence and Chuck and Vanessa seethed and stomped their cloven hooves, then made out grotesquely in front of their respective exes. (At least there is some precedence for the Chuck-Vanessa please-tell-me-they-didn’t-actually-video-it.) But can someone explain to me why Blair was spending so much time in Madison Square Park? That’s like four miles from anything in her orbit.

Rufus’s grand plan led to a Humphrey–van der Woodsen blended-family ragefest after Jenny’s disastrous birthday party, especially over the epically stupid idea to sell real estate in the current market to pay for college (only thing dumber? Cashing in your 401(k). But wait, Rufus doesn’t have savings. He’s a moron), because Dan doesn’t qualify for financial aid (but he would qualify for LOANS) because, after growing up with an artist mother and rock star father in a multimillion-dollar Brooklyn loft, he thinks he is just the poorest little boy in the world! Is it possible to be that stupid in real life?

Finally, I know that TV networks can’t afford to turn down any advertising, but I wish the folks who schedule Gossip Girl’s commercials wouldn’t make me feel like a decrepit old lady by pushing Miley Cyrus and Zac Efron movies on me. I can deal with the latter ironically, but the former has me one Jonas away from shaking my fist and telling those damn kids to stop playing their rock and/or roll so loudly. (I, um, kind of want to see that Zac Efron movie.)

So much to share. Get ready. First of all, how great was Kings, again? I mean, it wasn’t up to the level of the first two episodes, but it was still great. Learning about Gilboa. Everyone manipulating poor Michelle. That thing with the deer in the road. Good stuff! Why is nobody watching this show?

Secondly, tonight marks the return of Greek, another underappreciated-for-superficial-reasons show. I’ve talked a lot about how this show seems to have stolen greatness out of the jaws of mediocrity (metaphor fail), and that is thrown into even greater relief when the ABC Family programming geniuses decide to launch their new this-show-is-so-bad-it-signifies-the-coming-apocalypse sitcom, Roommates, right after Greek. I first heard about the make-your-ears-and-eyes-bleed Roommates during the pre-show entertainment at an IMAX screening of Watchmen. If there’s anything in the world that should NOT be four hundred feet tall with booming advanced sound, it’s the abomination that is Roommates. When you first see a commercial for Roommates you may think you’re watching a mildly clever parody, like one of those cell phone ads where a fake movie is ruined by someone’s ringing phone in a key scene — that’s how generic and creatively bankrupt this concept is. But then you realize that they’re actually serious with this bland Disney-channel-level-of-humor monstrosity, and it all becomes too much. Eventually you start to realize that someone out there was actually in a meeting where someone else pitched Roommates, and that first someone actually said “Yes! Let’s make that one!” And they have to live with that for the rest of their lives.

Ahem. Moving on. How about some free, quality entertainment? Via Vulture, I’ve learned that the great Whit Stillman movie The Last Days of Disco is available on Hulu. It’s not on DVD and out of print on VHS and therefore almost impossible to find, so catch it online while you can! Smart, funny, great times. Chris Eigeman in maybe my favorite of his Whit Stillman/Noah Baumbach roles. Chloe Sevigny before she became a sister-wife. Stop working and watch this movie.

It’s a week later and I think everyone’s kind of built a bit of a consensus around the Battlestar finale. Most of the people I’ve talked to and things I’ve read indicate that people seem to think that the final episode was clearly imperfect, but did the job well enough.

To give the writers some credit, ending Battlestar is an impossible task. Between making the nerds happy (I include myself in this category — I’m the one, after all, with a TV blog) with explosions and space warfare and resolving the character/plot arcs, ending the series seems like a no-win proposition for such a long-running series. (By the way — prepare yourself.  This is exactly what’s going to happen when Lost ends.)

In the end, it was a mixed bag. As such, here’s a list of five things I disliked about the Battlestar finale. I’ll get to the five things I liked later this week (no promises, though. You know me.)

Five things I didn’t like

1.  The Epilogue – I like to think there were always three possibilities for Battlestar in regards to its orientation to our reality (the world of Barack Obama and Hannah Montana and Ellen DeGeneres): the show takes place in the distant past, the distant future or in the present day (the fourth possibility, I suppose, is that our reality doesn’t exist in there’s). And I think that the idea that these folks were our ancestors was always a possibility that floated in the back of my mind.

And that ended up being the case, which was very disappointing. Personally, I didn’t want the worlds to intersect — I’d much rather the Battlestar world stay self-contained and not try to make some grandoise statement by making them our ancestors.

Jane Espensen said that Ron Moore had the vision of Six walking through Times Square in his head from the very beginning. To that, I just have to say that sometimes it’s a good idea to change your mind and rethink you first instincts — because your first instincts aren’t always the best choices.  The last sequence with the dancing robots felt pushy.

Also, getting rid of modern technology – Really? Everyone’s willing to just give up medicine and weapons and transportation? For a show where nothing gets done easily, that was a rather drastic decision made by Lee “Butterfingers” Adama. None of his decisions have ever gone over that well (remember the Baltar trial?).

2. Starbuck disappears – I’m not sure which decision I disliked more, the decision to tie the story into modern day or the decision to just completely cop out on the whole Starbuck mystery. In storytelling in general, there are few things that irk me as much as intentional ambiguity — the whole “we’ll leave it up to the audience to decide” song and dance. What happened was this — they wrote themselves into a corner and they didn’t like any of the options enough — so they just didn’t pick.  I would rather have had an unsatisfactory resolution than none at all.

3. Not enough carnage – I was really expecting fewer people to make it to the end. Not to sound like some sort of bloodthirsty freak, but there seemed to be an endless supply of extras to kill but none of the major characters bit it (I don’t count Tori and Cavil — plus Roslin had to die). I just feel like they needed to up the stakes a bit by having fewer people make it to the end.

4. The Opera House scene – I like that they stuck with the Opera House scene, but in the end I don’t think it really added anything. I’m not sure what they were trying accomplish, besides some ominous foreshadowing (and I’m not sure they planned the finale that far in advance).

5. The fact that nothing really happened in the last hour – I think everyone in the room I watched in was waiting or some other shoe to drop.

And they said it wouldn’t last…  My Boys is coming back for a third season.

Well, I don’t suppose I can cite anyone specifically who said it wouldn’t last, but generally speaking comedies don’t last long. There seems to be an inverse relationship between the quality and longevity of a comedy (hello there, Yes Dear).

In conjunction with the premiere of the third season premiere of My Boys (airing March 31 at 10:30 p.m.), we’re going to be giving away a DVD copy of the show’s first season PLUS an autographed poster.  There’s no splitting this one up — it’s all or nothing!

If you want to win, e-mail us at tifaux -at- gmail -dot- com with the subject line “I’m a ladyman.”

Here’s a teaser of the premiere:

Here’s another 30 Rock online clip.  Thank God for easy content.

I’ve been watching Important Things with Demetri Martin. I started casually checking it out because his article in New York intrigued me, but now I’m totally hooked.

**Swoon**

Martin is definitely funny, and I certainly laugh out loud during the show, but it’s a very subtle kind of humor. It’s not Will Ferrell-style jumping, screaming, trident-stabbing-with-belly-fat-hanging-out kind of jokes. Instead he just kind of lays out a few well told observations, sometimes highlighted with a graph or drawing (which he makes with both hands at the same time, which impresses me to no end). So he’s more clever than anything else, and it’s certainly a geeky style of humor—in other words, he’s exactly my type.

There are some sketches, too. At first, I thought they were the weakest part of the show. You can tell that he doesn’t come from a foundation of sketch comedy. To him, the filmed bits are the same as the charts, only with people that speak and move instead of neatly labeled drawings.

A short from a couple weeks ago turned that all around for me. I love this bit. I love how it starts as one kind of joke and builds and evolves into something completely different. What you’re laughing at when the short ends is not what you were laughing at in the beginning, even though the visual is almost exactly the same, and it was impossible to predict that you’d end up there. Check it out:

So, yes, I guess you can say that Demetri Martin is angling to be one of my celebrity backup television boyfriends. (Watch out, Topher Grace.) I’d say it’s the combination of ambidexterity (aow!), intellect, and dorkiness that draws me to him—but, if I’m honest, really I think it’s the hair. It reminds me of that mid-’90s rock ‘n’ roll bowl cut. I thought the haircut was adorable back then, and I was heartbroken when it went out of style. Bring it back, Demetri!

More examples of adorable ’90s bowl cuts after the jump.

Yesterday I featured some drunken historians.  Today, here’s Rachel Maddow boozing it up with Jimmy Fallon.

It’s sad we can’t all have a pocket Maddow to bust out at parties to mix drinks and inspire compelling, liberal cocktail chatter.