Joel Silver, you sneaky bastard.

You knew that time has started to heal my heartbreak over you ignoring my pleas to attend the Reloaded/Revolutions premieres with you.

And you knew that now my beloved 24 is done for the season, my Tuesday nights would be free.

OH! And I know you KNEW that if you put a psuedo-Keanu doing a little Neoish jump-kick in the promo of your new show Next Action Star, that I would probably tune in.

Damn you to hell. And take Mark Burnett with you.

I've been trying to limit my reality TV intake. Oh sure, I'll watch Survivor (though not another "All-Star" season, fuck those crybabies) and it's a little known fact that my twisted love for the evil Dr. Will of BB2 is what indirectly introduced me to blogging, but I have my limits. I don't watch Idol Search or Average Bachelor. I avoid anything that insults my intelligence by trying to convince me that a bunch of famewhores are on national TV looking for L-O-V-E (OK, I watched The Littlest Groom, but OMG how could I not?). I used to watch Fear Factor just because Roi and I would call each other on commercial breaks to go "eewwwwwwwww!!!", but really, you can only watch a playmate eat a horse testicle so many times.

I blame that I was already in reality mode due to tuning into The Casino (which as a Las Vegan, I HAVE to watch. Otherwise they will send someone over to break my knees) and last night I found myself watching the special audition episode of Next Action Star. I'm not sure what hooked me, maybe the fact that they invoked Keanu's name more than once. Maybe it was Joel's sweet baritone stroking my psyche, reminding me over and over that one man AND one woman will win this show and go on to STAR in a MAJOR MOTION PICTURE. It's a dream come true, working with Joel. He told me himself.

Anyway, they held auditions all over the country and there were your usual looks into the wannabes hopes and dreams. Apparently all you needed was the ability to kick down a door and do a summersault and you got to be seen. Oh, and the pretend gun gesture (hands together, index fingers pointing at your imaginary foe), you had to know that. There were good tryouts, there were great tryouts, there were laughable tryouts. I'm not invested enough to have caught the names of the judges, but that blonde woman?(and I bet Keanu knows her) Wow, what a bitch. The one that called everyone (starting with the nelly muscle boy) "Sugar" wasn't as bad, but still pretty catty. I hope we're done with them. Tonight they move the wannabes into a big house in Hollywood and start dropping them off rooftops into pools of fire or something. I can't wait.

As far as the contenders go, at this point I'm rooting for that really intense Brando-esque guy from NY, Yale drama grad Reggie ("fan man") and the girl who one of the judges said had a "black widow" quality. I wish I could root for Viviane in her Matrix coat, but I know I'll end up hating her. And her boobs. Also, special mention should go to Matt T. (You know which one I'm talking about) because you KNOW the unenlightened are going to compare him to Keanu.

As if.