Wow. So: August. Pretty boring, huh? I'm still avoiding caffeine, which certainly isn't helping, but the emptiness of my bloglines tab is making it tough to satisfy my self-imposed rule about posting something, anything, at least once per weekday. Needless to say, you guys are the big losers in all of this.

So here's all I can muster: why the hell is Comedy Central roasting Pamela Anderson? Correct me if I'm wrong here, but I thought the Friars Club institution of roasting was a way for old comedians to affectionately make fun of other old comedians with some of the filthiest jokes ever conceived. Pamela Anderson is not a comedian, nor is she old. And basic cable's always-improving filth quotient still leaves something to be desired.

I know, I know, other non-comedians like Frank Sinatra have been roasted -- but at least Frank must've brought an entertaining tenseness to the show, as everyone wondered whether he'd have his roasters mercilessly beaten afterward. Pam Anderson offers nothing but the most obvious jokes. She's a totally blank canvas, a sphinx with boobs. In fact, her career can be summed up in a recurring theme: complete failure in any endeavor not solely tied to her sex appeal. Seriously, if you had to write a joke to roast her, where could you go? Boobs, sex tape, commercial failures, hepatitis. We've heard all of it before. An hour of that junk is going to be more depressing than it is funny. You might as well invite Jay Leno*.

* Don't worry -- Jeffrey Ross will be in attendance, and he's not only cheaper, but also every bit as not-funny.