It's called "Dummies for Dummies": "Oprah" on 20 milligrams of Valium meets Barney's developmentally disabled brother. Only instead of a dinosaur in the shape of a vital organ, we cast an obese leprechaun with a voice capable of making speech therapists start grabbing rifles and heading toward the nearest tower. Then, we populate a hideous cinderblock bunker with the most mediocre, banal and insipid people we can find, remove any and all stimulation and sit back to watch the magic. Nobody sings, heals or fires a synapse.

We would be so rich right now if CBS hadn't thought of it first!

It's Monday, Day 61, and the overripe avocado we call George is cutting up a can to make letters. His plan? To lovingly erect an anniversary memorial for his beloved Teresa.

George nails the first half of his message to a wall and stands to survey his handiwork. His command of the alphabet is impressive, but we all know that putting letters in their rightful order can be a traitorous and thankless business. The sign reads:

"Happy Anniverarsy."

A satisfied George contemplates his ouevre, and, finding it good, continues.

"Teresa. 22," reads the remainder of the missive. (Teresa has been married to George for 22 years. It's a sad case, but all too common -- we've read about people like her in "Women Who Love Too Little")

George then steps in dog shit. Ugly Chiquita, it turns out, has embarked on an exciting new career as a TV critic.

As George laments this development, Curtis calls out, "Another poop, dude?"

Is George having trouble navigating the turds? It would appear so. Sighing, he sets out once again to rid himself of feces. Curtis saunters over to take a gander at his creation.

"Hey, George."

"Yo!" calls the cheerful fecal magnet.

"I think you may have messed up a few letters on 'anniversary,'" he says, ever so helpfully, culturally sensitive to the fact that not everybody has attended Stanford.

Curtis is not about to tell George how to express his love for his wife, but he might have a teensy weensy suggestion: "Is it S-A-R-Y?" he submits respectfully. "You have all the right letters, you just have them in the wrong order."

Curtis is so encouraging and supportive! Riveting goes without saying.

"Aw, that looks better, thanks, Curtis."

"No, problem," says Curtis, via his nose. "You're good to go."

We can tell Curtis is feeling especially nice today. If we didn't know better, we'd think he'd just gotten laid.

"Gee," he says, "I always thought Teresa had an 'H' this whole time." (That's what we were thinking this whole time, too! In fact, it was starting to interfere with our work.)

"No," says George authoritatively.

Then he and Curtis sing the happy anniversary song. We are enjoying this segment immensely, but sadly, all things must come to an end.

Next, it's time for the weekly challenge: The boredom artists must train Chiquita to complete a dog-agility class.

The yard has been outfitted with a state-of-the-art obstacle course, but the retarded pug opts for humping a pole instead. (Okay, she just tries to climb it, but we're being given very little to work with here.)

Still, the housemates laugh and laugh and thought they'd die. Then they discuss their creepy little mascot's chances at completing the course for what feels like minutes.

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