Hung

This season of Entourage appears headed for the biggest one year drop-off since Ben Wallace stopped taking roids and pulling down 15 boards a game. It's about as entertaining as Fonzworth Bentley. And if that wasn't enough, they brought back E's cute little alien girlfriend to spice things up!

With four episodes left in Season 6, there's still no story arc. (I refuse to accept that it's E's love life or Ari's troubles with his unfaithful employee, the worthless Andrew Klein).

Luckily, the show that proceeds it, Hung, is quickly becoming one of TV's most entertaining comedies. Think American Gigolo meets Breaking Bad meets Weeds and you've got Hung.

Like Breaking Bad and Weeds before it, Hung revolves around the main characters compounding financial problems, and the illegal, yet amusing actions taken to address their monetary woes.

Maybe the concept isn't incredibly original, but Hung, masterfully takes viewers inside the minds of its two principle anti-hero's - Ray Drecker and Tanya "T-Brain" Skagel.

Ray is the classic high school stud turned burnout. T-Brain is the classic poetry dork. Together they form Happiness Consultants - a one man whore brigade powered by Ray and fronted by T-Brain.

Set in suburban Detroit (Where else would a man whore be lurking?), Hung is as awkward as it is endearing. You root for Ray and T-Brain because they are about as real as TV characters can get.

Throw in Anne Heche as Ray's ex-wife, the nervous guy from the Ocean's Eleven trilogy and two of the oddest looking child actors around (Ray's son Damon has the best Pete Rose haircut since Pete Rose), and you've got something to make you partially forget just how crappy Entourage has been.

The "Genius"

I recently jumped the shark and bought a Mac.

After years rebelling against the Apple juggernaut (Go figure - a crazy lib like me not having a Mac? Laughable.), I concluded that a Mac is the best machine to handle my penchant for gothic sex themed chat rooms and Miley Cyrus iTunes playlists.

Three days into my Mac experience, I noticed a stuck pixel glaring at me from the lower middle portion of my glistening LCD screen.

For years, I've been suffering with a similar problem on my TV. And being the neurotic loon that I am, it's safe to say I've wasted hours upon hours trying to determine if the little red dot on my screen felt like coming out to play. Needless to say, I think it has also made me slightly cockeyed in the process.

No way was I going to let this happen to my precious new Mac.

It took a 30 minute call, complete with endless transferring from Apple Care to Sales & Support before someone decided that I needed to make an appointment with a Mac "Genius".

Now I'm hesitant to call someone who probably doesn't have any sort of advanced degree a genius. It's like referring to Jon Gosselin as a "family therapist".

At the moment, I reserve that term for three people:

* Prince

* Mariners GM Jack Zduriencik

* Michael Eric Dyson

My prior experience with a "Genius" consisted of the "Genius" phoning home on my iPod and having a conversation with it in code. He then proceeded to treat me as if I'd come in complaining the iPod wouldn't work, while unknowingly having the hold button on.

So this time, I determined I needed to cozy up to the "Genius" in order to get my issue resolved. I needed to enter his world. Find out what makes Battlestar Gallactica so great. Or, at the very least, look the part.

Out came the most wrinkled pair of khakis I could find, a tattered t-shirt promoting an obscure DC eatery, and my hippie Keens - worn with white socks, of course.

Under no circumstances could the inferior Blackberry I keep nestled to my thigh ever come out. In order for this to work, I had to fully embrace the "Genius" lifestyle.

As I approached the "Genius Bar", I quickly scanned the "Geniuses". Three looked like Steve Jobs, sans mock turtle neck, and one looked like fat Seth Rogen with fiery red hair.

Thankfully, I got fat Seth Rogen.

Fat Seth Rogen halfheartedly attempted to apply pressure to the stuck pixel. Three seconds later, he deemed the pixel stuck and offered to replace the panel (which I'm assuming is "Genius" slang for screen).

I politely accepted the offer for the panel replacement.

I hate to say it, but I think I'm a full blown Mac enthusiast.

Not only that, khakis and Keens make for incredibly comfortable attire.