A few weeks back, Our Man in LA produced his weekly Tuesday Top Five and Bottom One post, and he reflected on how much he would really like to see his wife's interest in television reality program just cease.

Cease. As in, go away. As in, no more Donald. No more Diddy. No more Biggest Loser or Top Model or whatever.

Sadly, I guess I didn't realize how bad the problem had gotten. That is, until last night, when Our Woman in LA and I headed over the hill to the Glendale Galleria for a night of Christmas/Hannukkah/Christmakkuh shopping.

"I know we have a lot to pick up, but we have to be back at the house early," my lovely wife said. "Tonight's the last episode of MAKING THE BAND." She then went on to explain the particular drama of this episode. I may have missed some of it, as my head was exploding with every new sentence.

But I'll replay what I was able to piece together. Apparently, last year, P Diddy couldn't make the band because he didn't like the band or the band members. And so this year, there'd been some drama about putting together another band.

And last night was the night. He was picking the members. Steph was really concerned about Audrey, because Audrey might not get in the band. But Aubrey, and not Audrey, probably would. On the other hand, she likes Aubrey, too. And what if neither Aubrey or Audrey got on? That would be strange.

"Oh well," my wife said. "It's all up to Diddy."

And that's when we instituted the new Wieland family rule. When I say "we", I actually mean "I" instituted it.

Here you have it. Wieland Family Rule #46, Section 1: "We shall never use the words Audrey, Aubrey and Diddy together in one paragraph of thought. It just sounds stupid."

If only Audrey, Aubrey, and Diddy were the only problem.

On the way home from the Galleria, Our Woman in LA told me about her favorite morning radio show, which features Ryan Seacrest (about whom I know little, except that he's on a reality show, too, and that nobody can tell me what the difference is between him and Carson Daly).

Apparently, there's a feature on the Seacrest show (Our Woman in LA's fave feature) where women who think their spouses or boyfriends are cheating can call into the show. The Seacrest show then calls the guys, pretending to be a flower shop soliciting business, and asks them if they'd like to send a free dozen roses to someone.

If the guys are cheating - and most of them are, apparently - their wives or significant others then confront them on the air.

This is not to be confused with the reality TV show "Cheaters", which is basically the same in every way, except with a video feed.

Anyway, my wife is bummed when it comes to the Seacrest show, because cheaters across the greater Los Angeles metro area apparently are onto Ryan and the crew. Some of them are threatening violence and lawsuits against Seacrest. And possibly against Carson Daly, too, since they're the same guy.

So the powers that be on Radio Seacrest are being more careful. It may mean that this "Ryan's Roses" segment might be going away.

My God. What will we do?

Well, if you're me, you'll continue not listening to the Seacrest show.

But look, here's the thing. Is it me? Am I the problem here? Has the rest of the world just embraced our new Diddy-fied form of reality programming? Is reality TV really that fun to watch? Because I can't tell you anything about Diddy except that he dated J Lo, covered a Police song, and appears on a lot of MTV.

And nobody - NOBODY - can tell me the difference between Seacrest and Daly. Can any of you?

Or do I just need to get the MTV removed from the cable system?

Basically, I'm in a beat em or join em proposition. Either I call the de-programmer and have them drag Our Woman in LA to a motel where she's convinced that reality TV is the work of the devil, or I give in and start watching these shows.

Yeah, I'm calling the de-programmer right now. Seacrest out.