Samantha Deveraux checks in with her "View" on the recent Network News shake-up!

Dear Loyal and Gentle Television Viewers,

It may come as no surprise to you that I have never gotten along particularly well with other females. Somehow they find themselves jealous of my exquisite beauty, breath taking charm and unparalleled ability to bed their boyfriends / husbands / brothers / fathers / clergymen quicker than a bullfrog placed on a hot asphalt speedway in the steamy Savannah, Georgia summer. I figured this fighting spirit of mine would become useful when applying for Barbara Walters' catty girl’s club, “The View.” But apparently my application has been passed up in favor of America’s favorite koosh ball loving lesbian, Rosie O’Donnell.

Rosie loves the cooch. Oh, and the koosh.

Well, Miss Walters, let it be known that I also love balls and have been known to experiment with the fairer sex in my younger days. And fairer members of the fairer sex for that matter. Tanning gives you wrinkles and I wouldn’t be caught dead having made out with anyone that had fallen victim to crow’s feet. But I digress…

With the impending departure of America’s favorite non-panty wearing soccer mom, Meredith Vieira, I thought I was a shoe-in to sit next to the horse faced, saddle bagged Star Jones. Why, I have the beauty of a young Debbie Matenopoulos and the brains of a younger Barbara Walters for realizing Debbie was about as useful to “The View” as a monogrammed doormat to Salmon Rushdie. Sure it looks pretty, but you can never put it out in public.

As for Meredith, I wish her well. It’s going to take a lot more to entertain NBC’s “Today Show” audience than her old tired bit of, “accidentally popping her withered bosom out of a prom dress in a ‘what to wear’ segment.” Nobody wants to see your teat anyway Meredith. It’s so old it shoots powdered milk. Even prisoners on a chain gang wouldn’t suckle on your breast. What television so desperately needs are nubile women. Charming belles. Perky women. Why take Katie Couric. Which CBS has. And then take me. Which at the time of penning this, networks have not. We are belles. True women. Strong women. Women who stand for nothing, lie down for most everything and kneel only if he promises to reciprocate. We are as women should be.

In closing, Ms. Barbara Walters, I would like you to know one thing; Though I have never gone pro, I have been taped more than Star Jones’ sagging bosoms. I have had more standing O’s than Joy Behar. And I have been on more news desks than you, Ms. Walters. Which reminds me, you may want to have Elizabeth Vargas wipe down her seating area.

Samantha Deveraux finally returns from her travles to discuss one of her many passions; The Boys of Summer.

Dear Loyal and Gentle Television Viewers,

First and foremost I would like to apologize for my prolonged absence from T.A.G. But alas, I was away at spring training followed by a lengthy road trip spent enjoying my second favorite pastime, baseball. What, you say, a refined, delicate, educated lady that enjoys the gruffness of tobacco-chewing, crotch-grabbing, ill-groomed ball players? Yes. It's true. I have long been an admirer of these men and their tight pants, long wood and plentiful balls. Also, the bevy of nuts available at most parks for only $3.50 certainly sweetens the pot. And thusly, I am overjoyed that television is now riddled with games for my viewing pleasure.

Why, I recall as a young girl on the bayou making my first trip to the park. Previously I had only been to the locker room. Yes, it was an afternoon of watching men work it high and tight, low and away and up and in. I soon found myself perspiring. It could have been the scorching heat of the midday sun or it may have been the way a young Nolan Ryan drilled it center. Why even today my pulse races every time I see a sac fly.

Of course in the south we are positively starved for Major League baseball. Somehow the powers that be believe Yankees are more deserving of ballparks. But Yankees play dirty.

New York Yankee Derek Jeter turning a "double play."

We in the south would raise the game to a cultural art form. Can you imagine masses of southern belles escorted to the ballpark with their doting gentlemen callers... why, all around there'd be ladies delicately nibbling on Franks and gleefully swallowing Buds.

I can't for the life of me fathom why more women don't get behind the sport. Have you seen these men? They are disciplined, well-oiled machines! And such comradery! After all the feuding and fussing that most men display in attempts to be the cock of the walk, it's refreshing to see an activity where they play by the rules and pat each other on the back.

Besides, just think... without baseball gentlemen callers would have no way to describe how far they got with their dates without being horrifyingly graphic. And sexually graphic public discourse is one thing I just can't get behind. For I sir, am a lady!

Samantha Deveraux checks in with her first article! She's got a lot to say about television women in the workplace. And men in the bedroom...

Dear Loyal and Gentle Television Viewers,

As a woman of worldly and refined tastes, I fancy myself a devotee of literature. The lost art of reading is a sorely undervalued appreciation. Why, I myself have reams of literature bursting forth from the dusty old chifforobe my great grand pappy built with his own tired, knotted hands. However, on those nights where a Danielle Steele novel just isn’t enough, I have been known to peruse the television channels in hopes of finding some enlightening programming. (Although never on a Friday or Saturday night as I have also been know to entertain many a gentleman caller.)

But I digress… Let it be known, the quality of television programming is declining. Why, in my day a woman stood for something. And if she were lucky, by evening’s end she would lay down for something as well. But nowadays these ladies of the sit-com world, riddled with their neurosis, don’t know how to stand their ground, seduce a man and importantly enjoy the comforts of domestic life. Shockingly, most of these ladies even hold down a job! I can’t believe the amount of perfectly good-looking women on television that actually have to work for a living. When was the last time you saw a female character represented as she should be, in her natural habitat, lounging by the bayou sipping iced chamomile tea and making love to the hard bodied stable boy in the afternoon sun? Heavens no! These women are actually given jobs running companies, working in doctor’s offices, and slaving away in law firms. In my time the only work a woman had to do was to rid the house of evidence from her afternoon tryst with the well endowed gardener.

There’s only one solution to this conundrum. Casting directors need to cast ugly women. After all, are we supposed to believe these actresses with their heaving bosoms and pert supple derrieres actually have to earn their keep? Pashaw! That’s what men are for. To provide for us sexy nubile women. To keep us in designer dresses and fine diamonds. To put a prewar colonial roof over our heads. And to most importantly, be out from under that pre-war colonial roof between the hours of 8am and 7pm so we can carry on with the young virile pool boy.

Why it makes my Dixie blood boil when I think of a young Jennifer Aniston slaving away at Ralph Lauren, or Jami Gertz working her fingers to the bone as a dental hygienist. Now, I would believe it if the networks cast Star Jones or Melissa Rivers as women striving to make their way in the rough and tumble corporate world. Of course no man will ever support their haggard, undesirable bodies. But Drea de Matteo? My stars, no! She should be lounging on the lanai eating bon bons and making passionate love to the groundskeeper while her television husband toils away at the office.

Now don’t get me wrong. Some television programs should be lauded with praise for their representation of women. Why just think of Sarah Rue… of course she should be working! The poor girl has the hips of a Palomino. What man is going to pay to support those? Thank you ABC for representing women in the workforce as they should be.

Now this isn’t to say I’m against seeing beautiful women on television. Heavens no! I would just prefer them to be relatable characters. If you’re going to show a delicate flower with flaxen hair as soft as finely spun silk and legs that go on as long as a hot Atlanta afternoon, then she should surely not be behind a desk. That type of work is for women with split ends and A cups. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I hear the postman.

Samantha would go on to marry four times, each of her husbands passing away tragically but thankfully leaving her a large fortune to pursue her one true love in life… leisure.