Hey, ABC hit show Lost! Thanks a pantload—for RUINING THE NEXT 13 WEEKS OF MY LIFE. As fans of Lost already know, the serialized show is taking a 13-week "hiatus" (which is Latin for sitting on their big fat baloneys, watching Oprah, and smoking marijuana goofballs). And since the show won't return with new episodes until February 7, that gives us lots of time to wonder, "Why did we ever love this bullpoop show in the first place?!?"

Now, I'll admit I haven't always been loyal to Lost, and have been known to hang around bars, talking smack behind its back. Last year for example, I regularly accused Lost of "not being as good as season one," "going around in circles," and "committing the most heinous of crimes: killing off all the hot pieces of ass." However! This year I've had a change of heart, and as God is my witness, I promised to never, ever, ever poop-talk it again. UNTIL NOW.

I mean... c'mon! 13 WEEKS?!? In order to grasp how truly stupid this extended and unwarranted vacation is, I will offer up one of my patented illogical analogies: Okay... let's say Donald Trump shows up at your house. And for whatever disturbing reason you like, he's decided to give you a million dollars every week. Naturally, you're thrilled, and for months things are going great—until everything changes. One day Donald Trump shows up at your door, and says, "Yeaaahhh... about that million dollars a week? I've decided to change the deal somewhat. For the next 13 weeks, instead of giving you a check for a million dollars, I'll be stopping by your house, kicking you in the scrabble bag, and throwing up in your mouth. How's that sound?"


According to the producers of Lost, the reason for the long break is because tons of people were complaining about last season. Back then everyone was bellyaching because Lost would show a couple of new episodes, followed by two or three weeks of repeats. Annoying! Yet, apparently, the production schedule for a show like this is so hectic, they need to take a few weeks off in order to catch up—to which I respond, "OH, BOO-HOO-HOO! DOES WIDDLE BITTY BABY NEED A SUGAR TITTY?"

Do you know what my boss tells me when I ask for extra time to finish this stupid TV column? He points to the dumpster outside the office and says, "That's where you'll be eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner unless you get me your stupid TV column within 10 minutes. SO GIT-R-DONE." (He's a big fan of redneck comedy.)

Now, I could use the same tactic and threaten to make Lost eat out of a garbage can, but I doubt it would do much good. After all, they live on a deserted island, and would probably kill for a half-eaten hot dog. So I'm willing to present the cast and crew of Lost with a new deal: Either get me a brand-spanking-new episode every week, or I get to throw up in your mouth. And kick you in the scrabble bag. Git-r-done.