First things first: I apologize for the lack of a column last week. Much thanks to all of you who wrote in and inquired as to its whereabouts. It was our annual Winter Carnival here at school, and, um, I was drunk. While I briefly entertained the idea of submitting a rambling, incoherent column as some sort of post-modern joke, I quickly remembered that all of my columns are in fact rambling and incoherent, and opted against it.

But I digress. Let's begin this week by getting the dumb lesbian shit out of the way ASAP so we can talk about the plot lines of actual import. Totally loved Marissa sitting on her bed, gazing longingly into the pages of "Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk"� (nice product placement, by the way) as if it was a vagina. Yo, Marissa, not making out with your "girlfriend"� the week after you barely even made out with her isn't punk, it's f-ing gay. Oh wait, using "gay"� as a synonym for "lame"� doesn't actually work in that context. But you get the idea. I can't believe I'm actually writing this as a hetero frat boi (albeit one that is sexually ambiguous enough to pen an OC column), but this lesbo thing is really testing my patience. I don't think I've seen anything so hyped with such miniscule payoff since the Segway.

The real drama, of course, lies in 1) the Kirsten/Sandy/Rebecca love triangle, and 2) the "Seth and Summer, Make Out Already for Chrissake"� saga (and yes, I've purposely omitted the subject of Lindsay's paternity because I fucking hate her. The really sick part of me wishes that Caleb is in fact her dad. And that he gave her AIDS. Moving along). While plot lines #1 and #2 are essentially the only reasons to keep watching the show, both strain realistic social norms to such an aggravating degree that it boggles the mind. Let's begin with #1. While my grasp of the concept of holy matrimony is somewhat limited, my understanding is that marriages tend to fall apart for one of three reasons: A) money; B) your spouse gets fat and ugly; thus necessitating C) cheating with someone hotter. Sandy, my boy: have you looked at your wife lately? Bitch is straight dime piece. Hot like Tabasco. Have you looked at Rebecca lately? She looks like her face melted. Sandy has long shown himself to be the most stable character on the show, and he's willing to throw it all away over some pot-smoking fugitive with a few extra bagels in her belly? It just doesn't add up.

As for the Seth-Summer drama, does anyone else find it completely ludicrous that Seth and Zach are not mortal enemies at this point? How emasculated can two males possibly be? Let's recap: dude stands by and lets ex-boyfriend shamelessly game on girlfriend. Dude declares intention to wait for sex (hey Zach, were you asking yourself WWJD? Sorry man"”even Jesus thinks you're a homo). Ex-boyfriend then stands by as dude tells him, "Hey, I'm going to Tuscany to fuck the girl you love. Have fun obsessing about the exact moment of penetration."� Ex-boyfriend goes home to eat ice cream and watch VH- 1. Finally, ex-boyfriend tells girl he's 100% fine with how the situation has played out. The sheer pussiness of it all is almost unbearable.

I say "almost"� because next week's epi really, truly, may be the one to de-rut the OC train. Car crashes, dramatic storms, confessions of love, last-minute phone calls"¦if they mess this one up, I'm gonna start watching Point Pleasant and Jonny Zero instead.

Send the catcalls, insults, hate mail, and photos of eligible Indian women (dot not feather) to neel.shah@dartmouth.edu