The CW recently revealed that Lindsey Gort (boy, that's a tough name to pull off) will play the young version of Samantha Jones, who was famous on Sex and the City for her super sexual, anything goes outlook.

So Whitney has left the sunny shores of California and moved to the glitzy Gotham that is New York City. Things are about to get real, right? Or, at least, a lot more fake-real than they were before? Uh, no. The City is a pale shadow of the car-wreck glory that is The Hills, and we've got a breakdown of what exactly is it that The City lacks and The Hills has got. We never thought we'd say this, but we miss the hell out of LC.

Check out our Hills vs. City Gallery!

When I imagine the pitch for the Hills spin-off The City, it goes a little something like this:

Hey, I have a great idea! So how about we take the boringest character? From the boringest reality show? And make a show about her? It's sure to be a non-stop thrill ride, not to mention a ratings bonanza!

We're officially past the half-way mark for the maiden season of The City (does this show ever friggin' end?) and I'm still not convinced I give a French flip about our protagonist Whitney Port. Seems to me her only real function is to wear hideous outfits and stare blankly at her vastly more interesting friends, enemies, lovers, employers and cohorts. The problem with Whitney as I see it is that she seems like a relatively functional, stable human, and therein lies the reason she's so goddamned boring to watch. When someone crosses her, she doesn't freak out and smack a bitch. She doesn't plot revenge or cry 'til the mascara streams down her face. She calmly and maturely deals with it like a normal person. And I don't care how many porn shots of the good life in New York City the producers splice into this show, that makes for some dull-ass TV. Her cracked crew of friends and associates are all sorts of flawed, and that's why I'm proposing a handful of spin-offs that I'm hoping MTV will create so I don't have to look at Whitney's zombie stare anymore.

That scene from Sons of Anarchy's fifth season sure set tongues wagging.

During this winter break, I visited family and found myself not mentioning Parenthood when people asked for TV recommendations -- and not because I don't clearly love this show, but because I realized the individuals asking me have painfully lived through things we've watch the Bravermans endure, and it seems in very poor taste to tell my future mother-in-law whose own mother died of cancer not too long ago to tune in to Kristina fighting the battle. It begs the question: Is Parenthood a show for the privileged voyeur? Aside from the whole TV-as-escapism factor, I think there's an argument there with this show in particular. Then again, one of the reasons people love Parenthood as much as they do is because they've gone through some of the same emotions are the Bravermans, which can make our own lives feel less lonely, our issues less taboo and stigmatized and our problems more manageable (I see this a lot from fans in particular of Max's Asperger's, which, of course, makes sense). I've also had friends tell me that they can't stand Parenthood because they don't want to, say, watch Crosby and Jasmine sync their calendars when that's what they literally spent the week fighting with their spouse about. Can't win 'em all.

At last, Joe Biden discovers the real perks of being Vice President.

The Chenbot cares not for your weariness of Big Brother.

The upcoming Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23 is built upon the premise that people would deal with a crappy bitch of a roommate in order to live in a really great place. And you know what? We know the feeling. For the privilege of living in the following current and classic TV rental units, we'd pretty much cut off our right arms, or at least put up with someone who leaves wet towels all over the place or forgets to take out the trash.

Looks like The Firm is on the chopping block this season.