Farewell, Tammy Pescatelli

        Well, NBC's Last Comic Standing is now in the finals. Last Thursday they had the "reveal show" to give the results of viewers' voting from the previous Tuesday. The final six were cut in half. Bye-bye, Jay London (my personal pick for winner). Bye-bye, Kathleen Madigan. Bye-bye, Sicilian goddess Tammy Pescatelli.

        We were given three votes. While Jay London may have been my overall pick (he's just so cuddly and lovable how can you not vote for him?), I did throw a vote to Tammy Pescatelli. That way if I ever meet her I can honestly say, "Yo, baby, I voted for you. That's right, all those other idiots didn't know a great thing when they saw her. C'mon over here. Tell me all about it...."

        Earlier in the show, Tammy came close to losing to Todd Glass in what was the closest of all votes. I was horrified. You mean I don't get to see Tammy every week?! Why didn't I tape the episode?! She had been lounging in the pool in a bikini. I could have made a video capture! I could have had that picture! Blown up. Life-size. On the living room wall. (Try explaining that when Pastor comes for a visit.)

        That's right, I'm hot for Tammy Pescatelli. I said it.

        Of course, my grandmother would kill me if I hooked up with a Sicilian. Not that Grannie's not tried to off me a couple of times already -- but that's another story for another time.

        The great thing about being Italian is you don't have to pay to have someone killed. You just have to call up cousin Anthony. It's kind of like Strangers on a Train -- you do my murder, I'll do yours -- only there's no train and you aren't strangers.

        "And if you screw it up, I don't know you! I never met you! Got it?"
        "I'm not going to screw up, Mom! Sheeesh."

        "Sicilians aren't Italians," my Grandmother has admonished me. How old school Italian do you have to be to still not accept Sicily? "Italians aren't Mafia," they tell me, "that's the Sicilians." Nope, we real Italians are saints, martyrs even.

        See, Grannie only wants the best for me -- to not touch any Sicilians and to become a martyr. And if I do the former she'll make sure to take care of the latter.

        Tammy, if you're out there -- we could make beautiful laughter together. Call me.