Being bed-ridden for days has its advantages… like sleeping a lot, eating little, and watching the entire first season of HBO’s Unscripted. There are disadvantages too, like rubbing your nose raw, eating little, and realizing you just sat through the entire first season of HBO’s Unscripted.

Another recent love/hate obsession of mine is the theme song to Real Time with Bill Maher. Today I watched all four episodes from this season. He’s great. If you’re a fan, you know the groove of which I speak is not even a “song”; it’s more like the same measure repeated about 40 times.It’s addictive. I love it. I just don’t think I’ll appreciate it as much when I’m trying to fall asleep later. Because with its certain low, grunty, rap-star-to-the-tune-of-aging-white-intellectual beat, the song could easily be a porn soundtrack or even the theme to an endless nightmare. And as I am still really sick, either interpretation will just be really distracting.

Outside of cable, in my world of Non Demand (which still happens to revolve around television), the highlight of last night was marvelling that the Fox show House uses a Massive Attack song for its opening credits. Really. I was thrilled. I think I even sat up in bed, or at least craned my neck to evoke a hint of reaction. Which, at that time, would have been a triumph.

Right now, the Next Top Model candidates are strutting down a makeshift runway in Kmart, which appears to have been renamed “Super K” or something. Wait. No, it’s “Big K.” I’m so confused. By all of it.