"A-List: New York" Episode 207 Recap: Hell in the Hamptons

Vizio, my once trusted television set, and I used to get along so well. I would channel it to entertaining, inspired and groundbreaking shows and it would reward my efforts by simply beaming these awesome shows directly to my eyeballs. We were awesome together. Magnificently simpatico. Friends.

Then last year, I pointed Vizio towards a show called the A-List: New York. Like masturbating then cleaning up with one of your Grandmother's doilies, I knew it was wrong. But I was just so darn curious. I mean, honestly, it couldn't possibly be as bad as it looked, right?

Wrong. For me it was a guilty pleasure with much more guilt than pleasure. For Vizio, it was pure, unadulterated voyage to Hell.

At the end of the first season, we agreed that watching the show was a tragic mistake. And like those dead teenagers in I Know What You Did Last Summer, the sequel I Still Know What You Did Last Summer and the third film, Bitches, Can't You Do Anything In The Fall, we vowed to never, ever speak of it again.

Well, as you know, I broke my word. Which is why my poor television is on the phone, refilling his prescription for Xanax.

This week's recap begins with a question. Just who the hell did they think they were fooling? We do a Quantum Leap back in time just to cover the same, inane drama between Austin and Derek. But the producers of the show tried to sell us that this was all happening sequentially… except they forgot one thing.

Austin's haircut.

This is what his hair looked like in the last episode.

Notice how it's buzzed and he's clean shaven. It's as if the seven deadly sins morphed into a single person then that person hired a style consultant.

This is what his hair looks like in this episode.

It doesn't take a van full of mystery-solving potheads and a talking dog to figure out that you can't go from having a buzz cut to having a full head of hair in the timeframe they want us to believe this is all happening in.

So unless Nyasha makes better wigs than I thought she did, I'm forced to once again scream FAKEY McFAKERSON!

Ugh. On with the show. And I'm sorry to say that nothing new happens. It's the same show as last week and the week before. It's like the movie Groundhog Day, except each day I repeat begins with a famewhore in my bed.

This week begins with Reichen off on another business venture. This time, it's creating a fragrance for men. This apparently involves going to a skin product specialist and sniffing herbs for the perfect "masculine" scent.

Since he's utterly obsessed with the fragrance smelling "masculine", he finds the one section in the garden where all the herbs watch football and scratch their testicles.

He leaves the specialist with the task of actually creating the scent and goes away, but not before muttering something about wishing that the garden had a "Sweaty Armpit" scent because, "Everybody knows I like a sweaty armpit."

It's at this moment that Vizio switches the channel to Bachelor Pad and it's a good twenty minutes before I notice the difference. Fortunately for you, my DVR is recording the show, so I just go back to watching The A-List.

Vizio is not pleased with me, or the DVR.