We watch plenty of dumb stuff at our house, but it's all on DVD or Netflix.  We don't get any TV reception, because we never got around to signing up for it when we moved several years ago; and now it just doesn't seem necessary.  One of the fabulous benefits of this broadcast-free life?  We would have to actively (if you can call pushing a button being "active."  And I can) choose to watch reality TV of any kind.  And we feel we'd be better served using that finger to pick our noses, than to choose to watch reality TV.

But I hear that I'm missing out.  Apparently the upcoming season has several new reality shows I won't want to miss.  They include:


In a world!  Where an eleven year old boy has a fever in the morning, and stays home from school, but the ibuprofen kicks in by mid-morning and he starts  to get really antsy . . .
There comes to be HAM TRAP
A cardboard box, a wooden spoon, a piece of string and one . . . luscious . . . shining . . . succulent . . . slice of ham.  We're all hungry.  But are we hungry enough to fall into . . . HAM TRAP?

Will the first victim be the baby, with her curly head, her rosy cheeks, and her fists of rage?  Or will it be the dog, whose stately exterior belies an interior life of profound idiocy?   Watch them duke it out for the first few episodes, and keep watching for the special guests, tentatively including Lino Rulli,  Fab Morvan, and Dennis Kucinich.


This is like the OC, but set in Vatican City.  Follow two cardinals, a permanent deacon, and the last monsignor as they navigate the societal and spiritual tensions between the city of man and the city of God, and investigate burning questions like, "When you were little, did you really see yourself as becoming a permanent deacon some day, or what?"  Lots of laughs, lots of wine, lots of dummy Facebook accounts.


What happens when a terrible housekeeper marries a man with low standards, and they have a bunch of slobby kids . . . and then they decide they've been trying too hard?  In this twist on the classic "Odd Couple" theme, two people who are actually fairly compatible move in together and enable each other's worst habits. 


Everybody knows that Joe Biden is a scholar, a diplomat, and an elder statesman of the highest rank.  But did you know that he has a secret pocket?  It's true!  Where it is, only his seamstress knows.  But each week, there's something new and surprising in his pocket, and every week, at the end of an episode jam packed with hilarious hints and cryptic clues, Mr. Biden pulls it out. 


A gripping, unscripted, metafictive melodrama that takes place entirely within the confines of a fifteen passenger van.  Follow Sandra Flishbler as she cuts a swath of destruction through three towns, picking up the kids, dropping them off at the orthodontist, forgetting that the other ones are still waiting at the library, delivering the trumpet they left on the porch, leaving them at catechism even though there's not actually catechism today, and accidentally picking up somebody else's kid, who, in her defense, looks very similar to her own kid; stopping at the supermarket for cheese and baby wipes, and finally pulling into the driveway, thinking it's only a matter of transforming that still-frozen chicken into something edible, but suddenly realizing that she never wrote a post today, and it's already dark out.

Hilarity ensues?  Please?