But can I wear ear plugs?

Is anyone else besides me obsessed with the VH1 show But Can They Sing? The answer is No. What I mean is No, they cannot sing. Not one of them. Only two weeks into the show, it's clear the next four weeks will be extremely rough on the tympanic membrane. Latina something-or-other Myrka Dellanos. Ay, ay, ay, ay. Llora y no cantes. Joe "Joey Pants" Pantoliano. Not terrible, but not Sinatra. Supermodel Kim Alexis. As euphonic as an IRT train screeching to a halt after the emergency brake is pulled. All three of them, mercifully, were voted off. Buh-bye.

Mafia thugboy Carmine Gotti Agnello should be bitchslapped by Snoop Dog for his butchery of "Drop It Like It's Hot." Uberhottie Antonio Sabato, Jr., a man whom I would have a uterus transplant for just so I could carry his baby, made me scream "My ears! My ears!" Even singing "I Want You To Want Me" shirtless didn't help. Not one bit.


But can he...oh, who cares?

The vocal stylings of Michael Copon, the blue Power Ranger, make dogs howl. Even though he wore his finest International Male couture (a sexy black PVC shirt that revealed his hot pecs), nothing could open up his diaphragm enough to enable him to sing.

Former heavyweight champ Larry Holmes: Can't sing. Furthermore, can't remember the words to "Let's Get It On," which doesn't have very many words to begin with.

Last week Morgan Fairchild aced her way through "These Boots Are Made For Walkin'," but this week she could barely survive "I Will Survive." Still, I'm pulling for her.

Last but not least, Asian film star (?) Bai Ling, about whom I have no clue (IMDB says she was in Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, as bad and unintelligible as she is, is at least entertaining. Last week she massacred "Like A Virgin" with such abandon (and such camp) I thought Madonna might have her arrested. This week her rendition of Blondie's "Call Me," sounded, as one reviewer put it, "like a Soviet folk song." (Core me on the rine, core me, core me, any tie.) She is the only one who appears to not be taking herself seriously at all. Let's see how entertaining she is next week.

Don't get me started on host Ahmet Zappa. Don't even get me started.

With so much other bad reality TV on the air, why watch this? Because it's a spectacular, unapologetic, cacophonic 52-car pileup, if your ears can withstand the register. It's a Showgirls for the new millennium. Almost a skit that the SCTV folks forgot to write. After all, the performers are doing this to raise money for the charity of their choice, but couldn't they just write checks from their own accounts? Wouldn't that be more charitable? In the end, there's only one reason why this show is on the air.

And that will bring us back to dough...dough...dough...dough...

I can't wait for Season 2.