LET'S ALL GO TO THE CHAMBER, LET'S ALL GO TO THE CHAMBER

So last night, we're sitting down for dinner, and just like any average American dysfunctional family that hates discussion during dinner, Susie's trying to find something on television to watch while we gobble our food like famished rats.

Something called "The Chamber" was coming on. A new reality game show where contestants are asked trivia questions while being tortured.

Hmmm. Sounds like wonderful Sunday evening family fare. Let's watch that.

Holy underwear.

Did you guys see that thing???

First off, this Chamber must have cost somewhere in the vicinity of about a billion dollars. It looked like a spaceship where people were strapped to this chair that was then sucked inside the Chamber.

Once inside, flamethrowers went off, taking the heat up to about 150 degrees in there with fire EVERYWHERE. Then the contestant is shook violently and dangled extremely close to these flame throwers. Then they're spun around upside down while jets of icy water are sprayed in their face, taking the temperature inside the Chamber down to -9 degrees. Then they're forced to watch Mariah Carey's "Glitter" while eating stale popcorn.

This thing went beyond torture. If any Chinese communists caught a glimpse of this show, they'd probably run out of the room in fear.

The questions given to the contestants were fairly simple. But when you've got flame throwers shooting flames inches from your face and a boa constrictor tightening around your chest, apparently "Mom's maiden name" kinda slips your mind. Sure, I know "Gladiator" won Best Picture last year. But if you're thrashing me around like a rat in a blender, while shooting nails at me with a nail gun, I'd probably be screaming "DUDE, WHERE'S MY CAR!" too.

And the money they win? They could win "over 100 grand", but the most anyone won last night was $10,500. And I'm sorry, but if you're going to torture me and scare buckets of piss out of me on national television...you'd better up the ante, Charlie. Take that whole "could win" out of the equation and pay my house off, you torturing bastards.

I predict a short life for this show. The host was dull as dishwater and once you've seen one contestant roasted like a pig at a luau, you've seen them all.

Although it was funny to hear a lady scream "SON OF A BITCH!" when the flames got close to her.

My sentiments exactly there, sweetheart.

Soooo...the president choked on a pretzel yesterday and fainted.

Man.

How embarrassing is that?

It's a really good thing he's not built like President William Howard Taft. Can you imagine the ribbing he would have got from his staff if he was one big fat bastard?

"Hey, nail down the plates and bowls ... here comes Chokey McFainter."

"Okay Mr. Bush, remember...kiss the babies, and do NOT take a bite out of them."

"George, we have a doctor on standby ... care for a corn dog?"

Now...how badly do you have to be choking in order to faint? I've choked probably a hundred times in my life. Maybe more, maybe less...it's not something I actively document each time I do it.

But I've NEVER fainted. That's just insane. Apparently he fell off the couch and hurt his cheek and lip. And was watching a football game by himself when it happened. Laura was in an adjacent room, polishing off a bottle of scotch or something and "didn't hear him".

Excuse me??

You didn't hear your husband honking like a goose in the next room then fall off the couch and hit his head on the coffee table??

Or did you just not WANT to hear it?

That's one attentive first lady we've got there. I'd be more than a little peeved if I was Georgie boy. He comes to, and his wife is nowhere to be found. His dogs are sitting there watching the game. He's probably bleeding from the face with the remnants of a pretzel tumbling out of his mouth.

Yeah.

That's the image I want of my president ... crawling around on his hands and knees, disoriented, bleeding, and coughing up junk food.

Way to go George.

Kinda makes the whole Monica Lewinsky thing seem a whole lot less serious now, huh?

I made the preacher man very happy yesterday.

I gave him a copy of last week's "Oz".

If you've never seen HBO's "Oz", it makes "The Sopranos" look like "Touched By An Angel". It's gritty, it's in your face, there's LOTS of naked men with abnormally large penises (at least by MY standards ... they could be completely normal for all I know) and enough murders per episode to keep John Wayne Gacy fondling himself for an entire hour.

And my preacher and I LOVE the show.

Granted, there's a lot of drama and stuff in it. Great storylines. THAT'S why we watch it. Not because we hope to get another glimpse of Beecher's tallywhacker this week.

He and his wife were on vacation last week and I had a feeling he probably missed the season premiere.

And he had.

So he was OVERJOYED that I handed him a copy of the show yesterday.

We have a bond, he and I.

It's just a shame it's a bond over naked men killing each other.

But hey...every friendship has to start somewhere.

I'm hungry and it's time to remove this Whitestrip from my teeth.

Remind me to tell you guys about this whitestrip thing later on.

I'll tell you one thing...after three strips, my teeth aren't nearly sparkling or dazzling yet.

If my teeth don't dazzle people in two weeks, I'm gonna be one angry discolored teeth bastard.

Mark my words, kemosabe.

Mark my f'n words.