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Okay, okay, okay, fine. We give in. We'll talk about the freakin' movie that everyone's talking about. Or rather, we'll let you talk about it, in a special Sex and the City edition of "Who Would You Do."

Charlotte. Pros: Those leaked photos from her alleged sex tape were kind of hot, in a disgraced-cheerleader kind of way. And who didn't wonder if Charlotte was secretly the dirtiest in bed? Cons: Would Charlotte really make a sex tape? We lost count of the number of sex acts that elicited an "ew gross" reaction from her.

Samantha. Pros: She's Samantha. And Kim Cattrall is a real-life cougar. Cons: She's Samantha. Also, Kim Cattrall once married a jazz musician and then they co-wrote a sensual guide to love-making. Yes, they called it love-making.

Carrie. Pros: We guess if you enjoy post-sex rhetorical questions as pillow talk, then she's your gal. Cons: Total high maintenance shag. And if you accidentally farted or queefed, she'd scream and run out of the bedroom.

Miranda. Pros: You know she wouldn't be offended if you brought along your vibrator. Cons: She'd probably give you more directions than a traffic cop.

Sex and the City is a movie! It's coming out so soon! It's so exciting! You're going to have to explain to me why it's so exciting, because I truly don't understand, though I wish I did--it's everything I like in my fluffy television: pretty ladies, fancy clothes, and storylines about love and doing it a lot. There's a lot of doing it--which is right and reasonable, considering that anything else would be false advertising and everyone knows that that is an extremely rude thing to do.

I've seen two and one half episodes of the show, and this is perhaps an unfair stretch of evidence upon which to base my completely un-objective and totally biased opinion, but it strikes me as a bad show, and a shallow show that tries to hit hard at the Universal Experience of Women and just mostly reduces everything to a sad joke, never quite goes far enough, always pulls back from the truly interesting and the risqué. Wouldn't a show about sex, in Manhattan, want to be totally risqué? I mean, the episode about threesomes--that could have been kind of hot, it could have been a little dirty, it could have been heartbreaking and also totally fascinating. Except in the end, ha ha, Charlotte's man only wanted to screw around with another woman! There goes that relationship, ha ha! And it's an easy punch line that just makes me really irritated.

Maybe I'm asking too much from a throwaway HBO show. No, I know I am. Maybe I am knee-jerk reacting against all the crazy hype and the howling. I do that sometimes. Maybe I'm the wrong demographic--it could be that I don't understand these women because I am not the right age--and frankly, I can't tell if I am too old or too young. Sometimes, I feel too old, because these ladies are doing retarded teenager things like stalking the boy they like at church, tee hee, or giving in to his creepy manipulations to have a threesome, or getting mad that someone they dumped found someone else so they call him and make him come running back.

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We can't really think of anyone we want to do this week--Britney continues to depress the shit out of our libido and manly-man McCain just makes us fear for the future of the Supreme Court and reproductive rights. And our "WWYD: The Quarterback Edition" stalled at "Uh, that guy Jessica Simpson is sleeping with...and was O.J. a quarterback?" So instead, we thought we'd let you vote on your favorite gratuitously-sexed-up Super Bowl ad ever...

1. Joe Namath says, "I'm so excited, I'm gonna get creamed!"--by Farrah Fawcett, no less, in the 1973 Super Bowl ad for Noxzema. Not the subtlest of double-entendres, but, hey, that's the '70s for you.

2. GoDaddy.com pokes fun at the controversy surrounding Janet Jackson's wardrobe malfunction while simultaneously providing all the sports fans with handfuls of T&A. A cheap shot, though we kind of like the closing line from the bench: "Those are not real."

3. Budweiser's "Wassup?!" guys. Kidding. But you know that at least three drunk frat boys that year got a laugh out of yelling "Wassup?!" right as they came.

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So here's a question: If you suspected that maybe your husband had slept with someone during his bachelor party, or if you thought that perhaps your boyfriend had had a holiday fling when you were first dating...how long would you wait for him to fess up before finally asking him about it point-blank? Could you live with those suspicions for years? (Perhaps not knowing for sure means that maybe he didn't do it, which is better than finding out that he did?)

And here's a follow-up question: When you finally decided to confront your man, would you invite along Jerry Springer and his handy-dandy lie-detector? (Not to mention the cameras and a live studio audience, of course.) Yep, it's the latest in U.K. reality TV, sure to hit these shores soon (Update: It's here already!): Nothing But The Truth, in which contestants strap themselves to a lie-detector and answer a bunch of questions picked out by their spouse. If they tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, they win 50,000 pounds.

Oh yeah, so there's the third question: How many pounds is your marriage worth to you?

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EM: You go first, seeing as you made me watch that piece of crap.
LO: You mean Sex and the City 2.0? I didn't make you watch it--this is part of your job description.
EM: 2.0 implies an improvement, though, no?
LO: No, it's like Vista. Or a clone--there are always weird mutations in the copy.
EM: It made Gossip Girl look like Citizen Kane.
LO: Lucy Liu = Carrie (they're both in publishing and wear stoopid outfits), the brunette = Charlotte (wife & mom), the redheaded ice queen = Miranda, and the blonde experimenting sexually = Samantha.
EM: And this isn't even Candice Bushnell's rip-off of her own work! That's Lipstick Jungle, which starts on NBC in February, and is about three women juggling careers, family, and sex in NYC.
LO: On Cashmere Mafia, they've all got a little Samantha in them because they're all apparently obsessed with sex. I don't buy it.
EM: You mean, you don't buy that sex would be that high on their priorities list because of their age?
LO: Partly, but also because of their incredibly hectic schedules, and the amount of time it must take to get ready in the morning--Lucy Liu's hair in the last episode just to go to work was ridonkulous.
EM: And I couldn't get over how much freakin' lipstick every woman on the show wears. I kept thinking of that statistic about the amount of lipstick that the average woman ingests each year. I guess we're supposed to see it as war paint.

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A few weeks back we nominated the complete absence of "shmamortion" in the movies as the bad sex idea of 2007. (Little did we know then that life would be imitating art in the uterus of Jamie Lynn Spears.) But it didn't start with Knocked Up, Juno, and Waitress; as our friend Josh Glenn notes in his Boston Globe blog, the "Papa don't preach, I'm keeping my baby" has been around since, well, since mid-eighties Madonna. In case you'd forgotten just how many pregnancy scare plotlines 90201 and Melrose Place puked out between them, Josh has put together a timeline of unplanned pregnancies, abortions, and conveniently timed miscarriages in U.S. pop culture since the seventies. And it turns out that each decade features a distinct M.O. for characters facing an unwanted pregnancy.

When Em went on "The Morning Show with Mike & Juliet" on Friday to discuss exactly why breaking up is hard to do (and how to do it better), we couldn't have been happier that they opened the segment with a clip of pretty much the best break-up scene ever: Lloyd Dobler and Diane Court in Say Anything. (Though is it just us who thinks that if a guy did that boombox thing in real life, most women would just think he was a bit clingy and desperate? How come we only swoon over Lloyd Doblers on screen?!)