It's my favorite time of the week, it's time for the Weekly WYR. See if you're brave enough to choose a side in what surely are the universe's most difficult quagmires. And remember, if you've got a great WYR, send it to me at Streeter.Seidell @ Gmail.com.

Would You Rather...

• (At the bar) Have hot girls dancing in front of you or plates of free bacon in front of you? From Mathias
• Sit on a freezing cold toilet seat in a public bathroom or sit on a warm toilet seat in a public bathroom? From Andrew
• Hear your parents having sex every night or watch them have sex one night? From Matt
• Pee standing up or have multiple orgasms? From Stephen
• Eat cheese for every meal, every day, forever or never have cheese again?
  
• Get your penis caught in the magic bullet, or get your penis caught in a Jack LaLanne power juicer? From Cam and Brandon
• Have time travel be real or heaven?
  
• Weigh 90 pounds or 260 pounds? From Amir
• Only have one ass cheek or only have one lip? From Nittany Lion
• Be Lebowski or Spicoli. From RashBo
• Eat three fistfuls of dirt or a notebook? From Jeff
• Win 100 Million dollars in the lottery or work hard and build a business that, in ten years time, will be worth 20 Million dolllars?
  
• Never be able to own a portable mp3 player or a television? From Amir
  

• Would you Rather, Dan?

School: University of Connecticut

Mascot: Huskies

Describe your ideal…

Pizza: white pizza with tomato and broccoli

Guy: an athlete that can make me laugh

Describe your worst…

Date: going anywhere with a creep that makes me pay

Pizza: a pizza with mushrooms on it, yuck

If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be? No war.

BBQ Sauce or Ketchup? Ketchup!

See more pictures of Valerie after the jump!

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I've spent a long time thinking about what I would say when this day finally came. Weeks ago, I would have been righteous and jeering, screaming, "TAKE THAT, YOU CREEPILY-GRINNING LITTLE BOBBLE HEAD!" At first, weeks and weeks ago, when there were still multiple dozens of these songbirds crowding my week with their "music," I would have been pensive, wondering, "What might he have accomplished, had he not been cut off in the blossoming youth of his musical career?" Now, as I amble through the shattered dreams of the likes of Gina and Stephanie, hands in my pockets and kicking absently at the debris of forgotten lyrics and sour notes that litter the stages in America's collective memory, I pause as something glittering and triumphant catches my eye in this graveyard of broken dreams and fleeting personalities: ahead, in the center of this haunted battlefield, emerges the brilliantly illuminated, towering mausoleum of Sanjaya's idolatry. It is massive and defiant and hairstyled differently from week to week. At is base burns an eternal flame fueled by Simon's hatred and the admiration of hundreds of thousands of teenage girls. The priests who attend this shrine wear the cloaks of unapologetic anarchy. They are revolutionaries; they have arrived in hordes to practice their democratic right in this last bastion of American voting over which they can still exercise some power: the reality television contest. Sanjaya has been their false James Dean, their rebel pawn, their metaphorical cigarettes and mohawks and rock n' roll music and beat poetry. An army of sexually frustrated Catholic school girls guards the entrance to his temple. War protesters with their guitars, PETA members with their red paint,  and those motherfucking wet blankets from truth.com with their self-important orange signs form a picket line guarding this solitary, miraculous entity from the licentious eyes of would-be assassins. Not since 9/11 has this country banded together so unanimously on a single issue: Sanjaya sucked. And millions of people very week made damn sure that no one forgot.

(I'll probably post a video later, but I didn't want to rush it. I need time to work on this. It's going to be the Citizen Kane of American Idol farewell videos.)

We’ve all been there. We’re depressed: the person we love kisses someone else on the playground, takes someone else to the prom, or has a picnic with someone else on the beach of a deserted island under a tarp several weeks after one of them was in a plane crash, and the other was part of a clandestine and possibly diabolical scientific experiment. Yeah, we all know what that’s like.

We’re upset, even though we don’t want to admit it. So, we throw ourselves into the arms of Option 2, someone whose attention we don’t crave as much as that of Option 1. And, maybe we kiss Option 2. Maybe we let them go down on us. And, some of us, I’m assuming, fuck the shit out of Option 2 in a forceful Monster’s Ball style sex session to make all of our problems disappear, for at least a moment.

Kate, we were all stoked about the cameos from your bra and panties. And, while we love to watch you and Sawyer get it on, when you threw yourself at him with a tear-streaked face after seeing Jack with Juliet, I really just wanted to give you a hug. Hang in there, girl!
 
Here’s what went down this week, in a can of Dharma beans:

Desmond has a vision that Charlie will die and Penny will come to the island. He takes Charlie, Hurley, and Jin across the island, and almost sacrifices Charlie’s life to find Penny. Instead, a mysterious chick falls from the sky in a helicopter crash. She says Desmond’s name and then passes out. Kate and Sawyer have intercourse.

Here’s what we learn:

1. Desmond was a monk. He had been engaged to a girl named Ruth, and he left her just before the wedding to join a monastery. It was upon leaving the monastery that he met Penny. The monastery is also where Desmond picked up the whole “Brother” thing.

2. Monks can be fired. I totally did not know that. “Fired?” Really? Shouldn’t it be called “asked to step down” or “de-robed” or something?

3. If Lost gets canceled and they start a spin-off called “This Show Is Nothing But Sweaty Sawyer and Sweaty Jack Playing Ping Pong,” I would totally watch that show.

4. Sawyer can be sweet. He gave Kate a tape, even though it was stolen. He’s really an ass but when he did that, I said, “Awwwww!” aloud. This makes me think that I might become one of those women who lets her husband beat her as long as he buys her flowers every couple of months.  O, crap.

5. Scary campfire stories can still be scary even in Korean.

6. Desmond’s visions are getting super clear. Even though he wasn’t exactly correct, it’s definitely worth pointing out that his psychic powers confirm any suspicions that the island has at least some supernatural powers.

7.  Now that I’ve moved back to the East Coast, your Lost updates should be up 3 hours earlier. Then again, it’s now almost 3am, so nevermind…..