I have a confession to make. Despite my decade-long disdain for so-called reality TV — possibly the most oxymoronic term of the 21st century — I now officially have a favorite reality TV show. Shantelle and I used to turn on Bravo and watch Project Runway.

The basic idea: Take 15 aspiring fashion designers, lock them into a studio, and give them a series of challenges. Every week somebody gets the boot because "in the world of fashion, one day you're in, the next day you're out." Each week's loser gets a varyingly brutal dressing down, a dramatic, failure-tinged 15 minutes of fame, and a parting auf wiedersehen, complete with a kiss on each cheek from Heidi Klum. Heck, I'd do it just to get "Auf'ed."

But in the past couple of years, we've taken to seeing Dancing with the Stars. Of course, you understand I only watch because my wife likes Derek Hough. She was quite upset when Derek's sister, Julianne, had to leave because of a medical problem. I mourned with my wife — until I found out that the Polish bombshell, Edyta Sliwinska, would be that kid Cody's partner.

Continued...