Hold Me Close My Crazy Dancer - 
by J-Unit
So here we are, our second season of Dancing With the Stars. For most of the shows that promise to breathe life into minor celebrities, I tune in simply to take pleasure in the misfortune of others, but I can't say that with Dancing With the Stars. Public speaking is difficult, and public dancing is not much better. When you consider that everybody has to do this live in front of millions of people without a script to follow and almost no skill for the event which they will be judged, I sort of have to give all of these people a hand. Then, of course, they actually make it on to the dance floor, and open their mouths and I am ready to make fun of them. This season, the producers have changed the elimination. The audience will vote on the same performances as the judges, with a results show to be aired Fridays for elimination. That takes care of one of the biggest evaluation mysteries from last season, and should give people more incentive to vote. After the success of the show this summer, appearing on Dancing With the Stars holds a little bit of cachet now, although as we will see, the prestige of the event means more to some people than others. Nevertheless, it was a great first episode, and I think we'll have plenty to talk about over the next eight weeks.
Tom Bergeron is back, and I think after audience reviews from last summer, he has been allowed to right his own jokes. Considering his other gigs are Hollywood Squares and America's Funniest Home Videos, I hope the audience re-surveys him out of that role, because he was really bad. That might be why the networks decided to get rid of co-host Lisa Canning, now entering her fortieth year of existence with the younger Samantha Harris, who you may know as the host of The Next Joe Millionaire and correspondent from E! News. To tell you the truth, I am not sure why they got rid of Lisa Cannon, but between Samantha and Tom, there can't be any more than a few dozen brain cells between the two of them. Luckily, this is ballroom dancing, and there would be no play by play, which might seem sad because I would pay just to see Keith Jackson say "Whoooaaa Nellie!" any time a woman's skirt reached her knees, but in the long run it's probably better for all of us.
They called the stars to come down the stairs, and we first caught sight of George Hamilton, although I think he can officially change his name to Orange Hamilton. I wasn't aware that those self-tanning lotions came in "Oompah Loompah", but now I know. George was followed by the rest of the celebrities, including Kenny Mayne, who looks quite dashing in a puffy shirt, as well as Master P, oh, I'm sorry, P. Miller. I am not sure if there was some reason P was requesting they use his government name, but a few more weeks of "P Miller, also known as Master P", and I'll be tattooing a prince sign to the back of his ass. Everybody looked good, and Tia Carrere looked pregnant, but actually she just had a baby, so I will ease off the Rachel Hunter impersonation jokes for a few weeks. Overall, everybody looked really good, and with that we got right to the dancing.
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