The T.O. Show Diary

The new Terrell Owens "reality" show debuted tonight on VH-1, and for the sake of this blog and your edification, I watched. And kept a diary, all so that you wouldn't have to. Here's the, um, high points after an hour of my life and a large portion of my soul that isn't coming back...

TO's friends are his publicists. They might even be more regrettable than Owens. When they went to praying after Eliza Doolittle rhymes, I'm pretty sure that the color on my screen failed, but it was just the blood in my eyes.

We also learned that Jerry Jones enjoys drawing on tablecloths when he fires people. Because, um, I think he's insane. Terrell also enjoys talking about himself in the third person. And taking the tablecloths that Jones draws on when he fires him, because he knows he's going to be on the teevee. Besides, the tablecloth was about Owens, which makes it Very Important.

What's the over/under on Owens being solvent after the revenue from football stops? I give him three years before he's going down the Nate Newton Second Career Path. There is no way on earth he's saving a dime of what he makes right now.

"He's Terrell Owens. The world revolves around him." These words of wisdom come from his publicists. What's the over/under on the idea that "Does the world revolve around me?" is the only question TO asks during the job interview for the job of Publicist?

"It was almost as if I wasn't a football player." Um, TO? That's been true for a long damn time. Ask the fans of your last three teams.

Seeing as this is a reality show, federal law requires that we have Hot Tub Heavy Petting on camera. There isn't even a peephole camera for this; it's got to be, basically, the first five pre-penetration minutes from an amateur porno. If you are an AFC East CB and you aren't watching this thing for trash talk purposes, you just aren't trying.

"For me, Buffalo is where I'm supposed to be." And the year after that, Montreal. Then, some braying jackass pregame show, and then, prison. You've got to have a plan.

The publicists are also prized for their ability to do choreographed cheerleading routines. I'm pretty sure I just lost a vertebrae from The Cringing.

TO loses his luggage on the way to Los Angeles, and considers it a sign that he shouldn't be in town, leading to posturing with the bodyguard. This is what passes for Drama in this turdfest.

Since the show is on television, TO then hits on the real estate agent. And since she's on camera, she's far too into it, despite the fact that Owens seems to be speaking with an increasing lisp. He appreciates beauty!

Pablo the bodyguard is also on the show to pass gas. Celebrities -- they are just like us! In that they enjoy the smell of their flunkies' poo. Fart for us, Fake Security Man! Fart! Fart!

"Not too much that doesn't look good on me." Plus, the thieves of America now know just how much the ice on Terrell goes for retail -- $137K for earrings that your aunt who married money and earned it would turn her nose down on as being Too Old Hookerish. Pablo the bodyguard also turns out to be just a guy Terrible knows from back in the day, so it's not like he's professional or anything. Come on, Criminals of America! He's begging for it! Preferably on camera!

For a professional athlete, Owens really is an embarrassing dancer... and after the publicists get bent, Owens quit on his own party. I'm getting flashbacks to his last game in Philadelphia now. That was also his last game in the Dallas laundry. Let's all think about that game now, shall we? Ahhh. Hey, my teevee's no longer red!

The slutty real estate agent actually prays before eating. She's also got a Fran Drescher-esque laugh and the ability to strip down on camera. Now, if she only comes with her own gun and an appreciation for the Steve McNair Exit, we got something.

After the sex (boo! off camera! I wanted to see Terrible's collection of genital warts!), TO makes sure to work out on camera in the pool with porn-style focus on his abs. I'm fairly sure that Terrible's going go to watch this show and take care of himself later, if you catch my meaning, and I think you do.

Hey, kids! Even TO doesn't bother with a custom ringtone, because he's 35. I'm not sure that I'm comfortable having the No Custom Ringtone aspect of my personality in common with him, but hey, this show is all about building bridges. Then, hopefully, throwing everyone involved in this off one. But still, um, good for you, Terrell, in not taking the opportunity to make your phone as hateful as the rest of your life. Good work.

The end of the show wraps up with Terrible trying to get back with his ex-fiancee, who the publicists are pushing as The Good Woman Who Will Save Us All From Bad Terrible. She is, of course, his ex because he cheated on her, but since the cameras are on and she doesn't want to go to jail, she's chatty. She asks him about his love life. He lies to her face, um, DESPITE THE FACT THAT HE'S JUST BEEN ON TELEVISION HAVING THE HOT TUB SEX. Who could have guessed that this guy isn't a good teammate?

The ex thinks that Terrible's first love is football. Um, honey? Terrible's first love is Terrible. Also his second through twenty-ninth, and after that, there's a lot of love for his other personas. Oh well, there's really no room in this show for someone with a three-digit IQ anyway.

The future episode previews has Drew Rosenhaus (ooh, there goes the red in my screen again!) and the city of Buffalo selling out to him, along with the porn-level acting of various cast members attempting to have actual human emotions... well, gosh, look at the time. I've got laundry to do, a cat to wax, and eyeballs to scrub. Let's just say that Terrible's not going to be Achieving Penitence anytime soon, and leave it at that. And set the over/under on bankruptcy and/or prison at 4.5 years...