OH, MY ACHING fawking skull. What a couple of weeks I've had! First there was the night I hosted I Love Karaoke™ at the Breakroom and made out with most of the singers (by the way, folks, my herpes test came back negative), which was then followed by a drug-addled, booze-soaked Halloween (by the way, folks, my breathalyzer test came back positive). Add this to bi-weekly pill binges, smoking cartons of Kools, and my spiraling escort bill, and I think you'll agree -- Humpy needs to take a little break!

But you know, cutting back on drug and alcohol abuse isn't always a bad thing; one can use the time not spent lying face-down in a gutter and drooling on a disposed condom to reevaluate and reflect on one's life. Yes, it's posing the important questions that counts: "Who am I?," "What am I doing to make a difference?," and "Where's the goddam remote??" Oh, and speaking of television, it's time for our beloved networks to reevaluate as well; carefully perusing the Nielsen ratings to decide what shows to ax and, subsequently, which actors will be sleeping in a Honey-Bucket.

For those keeping score at home, five shows have already been pooped out the shoot with at least two shows hanging precariously over the toilet. I've previously lamented the premature removal of Manchester Prep, the horny teen drama where girls fall in love with their step-brothers, and occasionally, a horse. However, I failed to mention the cancellation of CBS's Work With Me and NBC's Mike O'Malley Show, but only because they were so unrepentantly awful, the bile invariably clogged my throat. As of last week, you can also say bye-bye to FOX's Harsh Realm (as well as its creator, Chris "X-Files" Carter, who bombed earlier with Millennium), and Ryan Caulfield: Year One, the optimistically titled cop drama which couldn't manage to be interesting even when the main character got doused by projectile vomit.

In desperate trouble: Kevin "I'm the worst writer in the world" Williamson's Wasteland (his twentysomething version of Dawson's Creek), and (sob!) my favorite show of the year, Action, starring Jay Mohr as a self-absorbed Hollywood producer who cusses up a storm, pops pills, and regularly has his pickle licked -- which is probably the reason I identify so strongly with the show. Performing better than expected is the surprisingly tedious David E. Kelley dramedy Snoops, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer spin-off, Angel (I don't care what anybody says -- he's a goddam trauma queen!), and from thirtysomething producers Herskovitz and Zwick, Once and Again, which is like watching your parents having sex every week.

Naturally, while most of the shows getting canceled are richly deserving of the status, what about the ones that make me want to form a hastily constructed noose and hang myself from the TV antenna? These would include the abysmal paramedic show Third Watch, the big-pile-of-poop inspired Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, and what could ultimately give me prostate cancer from clenching my butt so tight, Jennifer Love Hewitt's Time of Your Life. These shows are so bad they make me reevaluate M*A*S*H, Touched on the Swimsuit Area by an Angel, and Charles Manson -- who by comparison wasn't such a bad guy.

AH-HA! Now I remember why I became such a drunken reprobate! When you have my job what other choice is there? See ya next week! Glug, glug, glug!