So this is it, people. Six terrible episodes filled with skimpy swimsuits, desperate retooling, and production company-floated sex tapes, and still, nothing. I understand that Manimal will be remembered more in the annals of television than this show. Hell, Fox’s Babes will. But still, I like to think that these six hatred-filled recaps have at least contributed to a few people’s work week, even if the show itself couldn’t. At least I’d like to think so. Anyway, let’s make it quick.

So yet again we get basically the same opening as the first five weeks, but slightly different: A woman’s voice. A shot of the Pacific Coast Highway, minus Niki Taylor driving her Mazda Miata with a cell phone in one hand and a crack pipe in the other. The woman: “The California coastline. An inspiring stretch of beauty and tranquility.” Rock and roll! Shots that look like leftover footage from Blind Date! Oops, it’s made by the same shitty production company. And you know the rest. This week we get a lawyer named John, who looks a bit like George Clooney’s slightly lispy, shorter, non-actor cousin. Man, the UPN is such a fucking ghetto network. I actually have to check to see if the cable is attached to make sure I’m really watching television and not just some shadow puppet show my cat is putting on.

So John has four girls picked for him, representing things he likes -- and from the shots we get, it looks like that’s painting, rollerblading, lying out on the grass, and standing. John tells us that find a girl who’s a “keeper” in L.A. is a challenge. Whatever -- finding a girl in L.A. who can spell “keeper” is a challenge.

A girl walks down the stairs as John tells us that sex is important. The blonde, who’s face looks a bit like a jack-o-lantern, and who I suspect has also gone under the knife as often as one, tells us that she hasn’t been having sex much. She is Natalie. She’s “Sweet and Sensual” and her quote is, “I may look innocent, but watch out.” Okay, I will. She says she’s from a small town and is sometimes too nice. She walks shaking her hips at us by way of demonstrating how nice she is. She says she likes a guy with a squeezable butt. High standards, this country girl.

John gets into the short bus and listens to poems from the four girls this week. Oh man, this should be good. The first poem: “Strong desire. Sleek physique. Eyes bright in the night. Escape me.” I’m totally plagiarizing that shit and sending it to the Paris Review. If poetry was only that accessible when I was in school, I might have paid more attention.