Over the next few weeks the Dose will become semi irregular. I know, how will you tell? But really, for almost six months now it’s been an every weekday thing. So, you’ll get used to it. Sign up for the Desipio Insider, as I’ll send out a notice whenever there’s new content. Or you can just check back every day, like you’re supposed to.

Just because there might not be a dose every Monday-Friday for a while doesn’t mean there won’t be GameCasts and odd articles (like this one), so you won’t feel too left out. I don’t want to go all “Sports Guy” on you and obsess over how busy I am and put a cheesy little “Next Article Coming…” thing on the site. Besides, it’s not like I plan this stuff out too intently.

Anyway, don’t forget the Braves-Astros Game Two GameCast today at 3 p.m., and in the meantime you’ve got this award-winning rendition of “Things I’m Loathe to Admit.” It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these.

I watched “The Passion of the Christ” over the weekend and I have three very deep observations:

– There’s at least one too many “the’s” in that title.
– Jesus can really take a punch. Wow.
– I honestly thought that the son of God would have had better teeth.

I actually make a point to look for new episodes of “Barely Famous: The Warren Brothers” on CMT. I love those guys. I might actually even buy their new CD. Or, I could just use Morpheus and steal the tracks for free. Actually, I’m leaning towards that.

Thanks to TiVo I don’t miss an episode of “Blue Collar TV” either. I very well could be de-evolving back into a redneck. Who knew?

I am now obsessing over the fact that neither my cable company or DirecTV has picked up Comcast SportsNet Chicago. I mean, what’s the wait? I haven’t seen Dan Jiggett’s oozing over the edges of an ill-fitting armchair for months! Rick Telander’s weird hairline on a panel discussion show twice a week? How can I miss this? I don’t even want to get into the symptoms I’ve exhibited of my Gail Fisher withdrawal.

Remember when this site used to be the home of a weekly, creepily in-depth Notre Dame Replay after each game? Yeah, that will never happen again. I can’t even explain why. But I have about the same ambition to break down a Notre Dame game as I do to go see the Queen Latifah-Jimmy Fallon tome “Taxi.” Not much.

By the way, whoever greenlit a movie that combined the “talents” (wow, that word’s used loosely) of the Queen and Jimmy, is apparently the same guy who thought Brooke Burns needed a Hawaiian beach drama to star in, and one in which she has to act and hardly ever wears a bikini. As the Guinness guys would say, “Brilliant!”

True story. The trailer for “Taxi” (it actually makes me miss Tony Danza and Judd Hirsch) ran before “Anchorman” a few months ago, and I’m happy to report that I was not alone in booing it. Try that sometime. When you see a trailer for a complete groaner of a movie, just start booing. You’re not alone. The first time I ever did that was for the Kevin Costner movie about the butterfly and his dead wife, or whatever it was.

Last night in the Yankees-Twins game, Joe Morgan called Jon Lieber “Joe Leiberman” and FOUR times he referred to Yankees’ pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre as Todd, his son. Glad to see you’ve still got a prime network analyst gig, there, Anti Christ.

Honestly, it’s hard to miss Chip Caray because it’s like he won’t go away. Chris Berman is a fatter, balder, louder version. He has almost exactly the same grating qualities as Chip. He talks way too much. He can’t judge a batted ball, and he explains all of his jokes. Plus, he’s in a booth with the Muppet voiced Tony Gwynn and one of the dumbest humans on the planet, Rick Sutcliffe. So what am I loathe to admit? I sat through it.

My favorite new show is “Lost” on ABC. Here’s what bothers me, though. There’s a character on the show named Charlie and the guy who plays Jack was Charlie on “Party of Five.” I’m a college graduate with two degrees. I can’t keep straight who they’re talking about when they talk about Charlie.

I don’t even want to get into why there’s a polar bear on a tropical island. I’m just letting that go.

I sat through almost an entire CSI: NY and if I’m Bill Petersen I’m suing Gary Sinise. They’re playing the same, sociophobe. Look, I’m sure that the real-life, dull as dishwater, Dungeon and Dragon alumns who go into forensic science are about as outgoing as Amy Carter, but maybe that’s just proof we don’t need three prime-time network TV shows about the same thing.

Speaking of that, Dennis Farina got a perm, didn’t he?

I have a legitimate question for the “undecided” voters out there. What the f@#$ are you waiting for? Look, if you haven’t made up your mind yet it’s for one of two reasons: One) you are too dumb to be entrusted with the responsibility of casting a vote in an election. Please stay home on election day. Just turn the propane heater up in your house-on-wheels (or cinder blocks), watch some Andy Griffith re-runs and see if you can scrape together enough rocks to get high. Two) you really have made up your mind but you want to hang out with MSNBC pollster and owner of the most impossible election coverage hairdo, Frank Luntz. And yes, you should be ashamed.

I can’t remember the last time I went to a fast food restaurant and didn’t order exclusively off their value menu. I haven’t spent more than four dollars on lunch in six months.

If I’m the kid who is being paid to make out with Kelly Osbourne on the insipid new ABC drama where they won’t capitalize any of the letters in the insipid name of the show, I’m not being paid enough. Honestly, if, at gunpoint I was ordered to tongue kiss Kelly Osborne or to tongue kiss a ceiling fan set on high, I’m risking it with the fan.

Shouldn’t San Diego have ended the Real World franchise for good? They literally had more arrests than attractive people on that season. This year with the young Philadelphians the whole show is duller than a butter knife. MTV’s got to learn when to cut the cord. Let it go. It’s over. And don’t even get me started on the future of the Joe Simpson progeny.

Honestly, do you know anybody who has seen a Jimmy Kimmel Live in the past eight months? Anybody? If anybody’s watching it, they are the same dumbasses who watch John McEnroe’s show.

I have to admit, I tend to miss WB shows because it’s not in line on my cable system with the other networks. The only reason to venture down beyond the 30’s is for a cheesy ’80s movie, to see some boobs on FX or to buy the thing that stitches rhinestones to your clothes.

I saw Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow and really liked it. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

The best thing about Rob Neyer being on the “pay” side of ESPN.com is that you can’t send me links to his articles anymore and I can’t get pissed off reading them.

When ESPN showed the interview of Roger Clettitte yesterday where he was wearing the brown suit with a tie and a red adidas baseball cap, I wanted to lunge through the TV and strangle his fat ass to death.

I started referring to Roger’s bout with diarrhea yesterday as his “battle with Mylanta” instead of Atlanta and I cracked myself up. I’m sorry, that’s just such a Kaseberg thing of me to do.

Everytime I think about Pete McEntegart getting paid to write the most boring and insipid column on Spanish-yes.com, I have to fight the urge to flog myself.

And finally, if you made it all the way through this piece of crap, you deserve to know this. Desipio very nearly wasn’t here anymore. I got so fed up with the constant pissing and moaning and self-flagellating going on, on this site during the last few weeks of the Cubs’ season that I was going to s@#$can the site. I’m not saying I was thinking about doing it. I had decided to do it. This baby was going the way of the dodo on Monday. But I got talked out of it, by a couple of people, both of whom know who they are. Anyway, let’s just enjoy it while it lasts, because it was the first time I actually faced that fact that should have been evident. It’s not going to last forever.

A one-time staple of Desipio, Things I’m Loathe To Admit makes a triumphant return today.

OK, maybe it’s not triumphant, but you can’t argue that it’s a return.
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It’s been a while since I’ve loathed, so let’s get to it. In fact, I promised I’d try and do one on Tuesday and I didn’t get to it. So, in lieu of a Dose today, here’s what you get. It ain’t much, but it’s something.

I didn’t watch Ryan and Trista’s wedding, because I’m not a woman or a gay man, but I did zip on past it with the remote three times last night. Ryan was crying all three times.

Let me repeat that, Ryan was crying all three times.

I’ve been to a wedding where the bride cried so hard on the alter she started heaving and looked like she was going to pass out. I’ve been in a wedding where the groom threw up in the bushes two minutes before we had to stumble out on the altar. But I have never been to one where the groom sobbed like that pansy, poet writing fireman did.
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Cheaper than therapy. More entertaining than a guy standing on the El platform screaming. It’s time to loathe.

First off, thanks to Karry Ling for filling in this morning and doing the Daily Dose. It’s always a….pleasure? If he seemed more coherent than usual, it’s because the last few times he’d filled in he was still drinking turpentine by the half barrel.

But let’s get to it.

Things I’m loathe to admit…
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It’s been a while, and I haven’t Dosed in two days, so you get this instead. I know, I know, it’s not the same. But you know what? Nothing’s the same as it ever was. That’s a lie. House of Pain may have sung it, but that doesn’t mean they meant it.

Just when things are going good, well…it won’t last. Trust me on this, my friends. Because I know.

And I’m not even talking about the Cubs. Anyway…
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