Lost has plenty of ready-made heartthrobs.  The sexily stubbled alpha male doctor, the Southern bad boy, the soon-to-die male model.  But Sayid is the often-overlooked island eye candy. In his honor, I have created an acrostic  to the man known to some as "Hot Iraqi Jesus*."

(*credit: — seen here with stolen baby)

S is for your scraggly head of hair.

A is for all the women you love who wind up dead.

Y is for Young (Mighty Joe, that is), the ape movie that helped get you your start.

I is for the Iraqi torture methods you have used to tear apart the fingernails of Sawyer and Henry Gale.

D is for dating the 87-year-old Barbara Hershey in real life.

Sayid. 

Back in high school when I was working towards the title of Cleverist Person Ever on Earth Ever–only to walk away with little more than the "Most Sarcastic" and "Loudest" Senior Superlatives–I had the extremely clever idea to write a clever high school newspaper article about lessons I learned from watching Saved By The Bell. Because, obviously, I was/ am the only person on the planet whose fits of nostalgia repeatedly lead them back to Bayside (Beat Valley!), and that idea totally hadn't already been played out by 1999. Of course not. So clever, this one.

Part of the article, which was later cut by ruthless section editors, was a Where Are They Now sidebar on the cast. It went a little something like this, recreated here with updated updates:

Mario Lopez: Heartbreaking portrayal of Greg Louganis in that made for tv movie. Hosted pet talent show on cable. Now hosts odd hybrid of Entertainment Tonight and SportsCenter on ESPN. Continues to confuse me with hairstyle choices.

Mark Paul Gosselaar: groundbreaking performance as a frat boy date rapist in Lifetime original movie "She Cried No." Lead character on the short-lived "Hyperion Bay." Affixed to the back of Cristin's bedroom door in the form of a Tiger Beat poster. Stint on NYPD Blue.

Tiffani Thiessen: Hobags McGee.

Elizabeth Berkely: Was, is, and will always be Nomi Malone of Showgirls fame. Also, recently showed up at the grand opening of the midtown 24 hour apple store. Seen doing a violent pole dance on the E train after wards to an unnamed Pointer Sisters song.

Dustin Diamond: Starred on Celebrity Boxing Reality Show. Stand up comedian. Freelance school song writer.

Lark Voorhies: Whereabouts unknown.

That is… until now. If your mom was mad for crashing her car before prom, I can only imagine what she'll do now that you've got a taste for the devil's dandruff, Lisa.

Not that Kyle and Maggie would stop any strides involving Keifer, but still. Here is to a story with BauerPower, this time involving CIA agents, mothers, and ski lifts.

Story uncovered by Agent Mulcahy, also known as Cristin's Aunt Kathy.

Spotted in a recent issue of EW by eagle-eyed tifaux reader Nora:

“I TiVo a lot of shows on MTV—stuff like My Super Sweet 16 that’s jaw-dropping and mind-numbing—and I’ll watch it on weekends. Now I like Tiara Girls. Oh, my God. On the 2^nd season of My Super Sweet 16, all the really horrible girls had seen the 1^st season and were trying to top them in horribleness.  On Tiara Girls, there’s a fresh level of horror.” ~Anderson Cooper

1. Dan, how did you miss this in your latest roundup of All Things Gay?

2. Just when I thought I couldn't love the coop any more!!

Just in case your laptop ate that spreadsheet log you were keeping on all of Jack Bauer's kills, someone has compiled each and every one into a cheery and user-friendly website, complete with (a) name of victim (b) type of weapon and (c) video and JPEG evidence of the grizzly deaths! Hooray! It's like christmas!

 The only reason you are conscious right now is because jack bauer does not feel like carrying you.

I'm out of the country this week, so I may be posting less than usual. There has been very little television watching, partly because this is my vacation and I'm thousands of miles from home and it's time to get some culture and pay attention to people, dammit, and also partly because European TV is all flickery.

I have no doubt, though, that my familiarity with television will someday come in handy in my world travels. Along with movies, it's our most popular export.

Recently some friends of mine (apologies to Sarah, Jen, and Megan for any inaccuracies in this stolen story) were saved from what sounds like almost certain death in Morocco — no stamp in their passport, abandoned dock in the middle of the night, sketchy people all around — by a kindly young Muslim woman. She took them in, fed them, housed them, got that pesky stamp, even bartered for them in the local market.

Sarah mentioned that she was from New York, and the subject of Sex and the City came up. Keep in mind, this woman was a devout Muslim. Was life really like that show? she wanted to know. Not really, Sarah said. The characters are exaggerated, especially Samantha.

"Ah yes," said the Muslim woman. "But we all have a little bit of Samantha in us, don't we?" 

Blair, right, with future PE teacher Jo.

This is kind of TV-related, but I thought it was funny, so I thought I'd share.

Last Saturday I met my friend Louisa at a gay bar on Capitol Hill, as one of her gays was having a birthday.  I ended up chatting with her friend Pete and his boyfriend, and we all decided to meet up the following Thursday (last night) in Dupont Circle.

We settled the details about the when and the where over e-mail, and during the e-mail chit chat Pete indicated that I looked familiar.  Wiseass that I am, I wrote:

Not sure who I could remind you of.  Perhaps you recognize me from my brief childhood stint on "The Facts of Life" as Blair Warner's mischevious little brother. 

So, that's funny, right?

Well, I guess it just proves that I repeatedly fail to realize that not everyone gets my sense of humor right away, as my newfound pal shared this information with co-workers and was whistling the Facts of Life theme song all day.

Last night was the conclusion of the most-talked about talent competition of the TV season.  Who would take it?  Him or her?  What would the judges say?

I'm talking, of course, about Bravo's Top Chef.  As for that other show, fuck 'em.

I have to say, this was probably the least suspenseful finale of the season.  The final competition featured Harold, the frumpy and plainspoken guy that everyone loved, versus Tiffani, the snippy redhead no one liked.

Each chef got two assistants for the final meal.  The assistants, who were the last four contestants eliminated, got to choose who they wanted to work for.  Everyone except Stephen, the notorious jackass, chose Harold — and even Stephen was kind of like "what the hell, someone has to work with her."

The chefs cooked five-course meals, with Tiffany completing two versions of each dish (some of which were good, some of which weren't) and Harold cooking consistently tasty courses.  In particular, all the judges kept orgasming over his duo of Kobe beef.

One of the saddest moments of the finale didn't even happen during the show. During the commercials, the network did one of those 'text who you want to win' surveys.  Apparently, Tiffani was so odious that Harold won, 93% to 7%. 

Bravo reality shows have a tendency to have out-of-left field guest stars (Nicki Hilton on Project Runway?  The Boston Red Sox on Queer Eye?  Margaret Cho on Blow Out?), and Top Chef is no exception.  Joining the judges at the tasting table was a goofy-acting Lorraine Bracco, who, in addition to playing Dr. Melfi on The Sopranos, is apparently a foodie and vineyard owner. 

So Harold won.  Everyone cheered.  Tiffani cried in her interview, and you felt bad, but then you stopped.  Katie Lee Joel was as useless as ever.  Harold got a check for $100,000.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the Bravo Web site to order my official Top Chef stainless steel whisk. 

I forgot to remind you all to check out the season finale of House last night, but I should hope that you did so without any prompting from me. And then I'm sure you'll agree with me when I say… EW.

That was some of the grossest shit I've ever seen on television, or anywhere, for that matter. For the most part I managed to look away in time, but still — I knew what was happening. Things that should not be exploding were definitely, visibly, burstingly exploding. I'm surprised I didn't have nightmares, or immediately sign up for some long-term therapy.

I'm sure that bursting man is some sort of psychological symbol — House's bloated ego, perhaps? — but I had some trouble making any connections, or paying attention to the "plot," because it was just so goddamn disgusting. And his case didn't exactly end with the satisfying "you're cured! you can go home now!" that most of House's patients receive. He better get cured for real next season double-quick, because I'm so not watching all that stuff happen again.

The episode works well as a cliffhanger, even though the "it's all in your head" plot device is usually a cheap trick. I'll make an exception in this case, because the experience got House to change: he said to tell Cuddy to use the weird drug, realizing that he wanted to be free of the pain even if it made him less of a superman doctor. And he apologized to the man (in his head). He took responsibility. That's some great writing, and equally impressive acting.

And on the not-gross-at-all side of things, Hugh Laurie sported a charming salt-and-pepper two-day beard throughout the episode, and he was both adorably helpless lying in his hospital bed and joyfully active running and jumping and climbing stairs on his miracle-cured leg. And here's him holding a baby:

Oh my God. He loves that baby. You can see it in his eyes.

If Cuddy gets preggers, there'll be plenty more preciousness to come next year. Next year, people. I can't wait. 

On a side note, I only last week figured out that House is based on Sherlock Holmes. House, Holmes. House, Holmes. Wilson, Watson. Wilson, Watson. The drug habit. The solving of mysteries. Yeah… where's that English degree when it's really needed?

As we come to the end of Jack's fifth "longest day of his life" I'd like to take a walk down memory lane and remember the season finales of days past.

• Season 1: Just when we think it's safe, Nina Myers, former girlfriend, kills Jack's wife. Rough.
• Season 2: Just when we think it's safe, Mandy tries to kill President Palmer. Cheap stunt.
• Season 3: Palmer decides not to run for re-election, so the whole supporting cast can be replaced if the producers feel like it. Also Jack chops off Chase's hand and then tells him it's OK to date Kim.
• Season 4: Just when we think it's safe, Jack has to fake his own death to avoid getting murdered by the secret service. Exciting!

And now Season 5. Will Jack catch a break? We got the requisite cold-blooded killing with Henderson. Will that 17-year-old newly minted murderer on the submarine turn him in? I think Jack's got bigger problems now. As usual I started getting worried when Jack and Audrey got all smoochy. And right on cue, just when we thought it was safe, Jack falls for the old "your daughter's on the land line in the dark room" trick. Now he's on a boat to China, destined for torture and show trials galore. Perhaps he'll be forced to fight with China's best CTU agents in an arena-style battle to the death broadcast on national television. Poor Jack. Out of the dozens of people Jack has killed in the past 5 years, Jack had to get in trouble for the one he didn't actually kill. I think it's worth bringing this up because it's been a long time since anyone mentioned it. Jack didn't kill any Chinese people. OK, maybe he invaded their embassy. That was bad. But the Chinese Consul was killed by his own guards. By accident. It wouldn't have happened if Jack hadn't busted in there all M:I style, but if they had just let him interrogate the injured Chinese dude he wouldn't have been forced to do it. Never say no to Jack Bauer.

And how awesome is Martha Logan? She started out all nutso and turned into the Jack Bauer of first ladies. For those of you keeping score at home, we also have Aaron Pierce, the Jack Bauer of the Secret Service. Just like Jack, if there's a right side to be on, Aaron has always been on it. Palmer was almost the Jack Bauer of Presidents, but he covered up for Sherry in season 3 and blew it. Sorry David, Jack Bauers are never wrong. Sherry Palmer of course was the Nina Meyers of first ladies.

Prediction for Season 5: A dimly lit Chinese prison cell. Jack Bauer crouches on the floor. His beard is weeks old and filthy. A guard approaches with a bowl of rice. Jack angrily smacks it away and yells at him in Chinese, which he now speaks fluently. Suddenly there is the sound of machine guns. Guards fall in the distance. Then footsteps. Someone is coming around the corner! Jack looks up to see Chloe, who casually throws him one of her guns. "Update your protocols Jack, I'm here to save you."