Alas, there's no denying my sick obsession with the slick business that is not just modeling, but "top" modeling.

And, there's no denying, anorexic women are so pretty. When it comes to ladies, the thinner the better. If you can't count her ribs, then she don't count!

Right? You bet!

That would be my sarcastic stab at obnoxiously serious host and creator of Top Model, Ms.Tyra Banks. It truly is magical at the closure of each episode when she whispers to each of the contestants in her smoother-than-honey model purr: "YOU ... (dramatic pause)... are still in the running to becoming America's next top model." This news is followed by sighs of relief from all the remaining tiny rib cages in the room, except for the one girl who is left wondering why Tyra didn't coo in her ear.

But what can you expect people? Not everyone is cut out to be a Top Model. I thought Lorenzo Lamas made that poiniently clear in the now (thankfully) retired show: Hot or Not?

I just feel so naive. Here I was thinking that modeling was just another job, until Tyra deglossed my childlike innocence. Catwalk casualties are daily risk. Look at poor Gia! [At least if you have some time to waste, watch Angelina Jolie entertain you with some soft-focus lesbian sex in the film, Gia.]

It's great America is finally embracing the real issues: The pursuit of life, liberty and a brand spanking new piece of Top Model ass.

With that in mind, I must stop my Top Model TYRAde ... the next installment is on in 30 minutes.