We know it's hot, we know in a week everyone in your office is going to be on vacation, we know that your electric bill is double what it will be in two months. It's the worst part of summer, the "dog days," as they say, and it's destroying your will to live.

We don't care. It's just about two weeks until Madden 2006 comes out, and "FANTASY FOOTBALL" is blazing across the cover of our Sports Illustrated. Heat? PLEASE. We didn't even freaking notice. Nothing keeps you cool over the summer than training camp. Well, that and sitting on blocks of liquid nitrogen. But that's another story.

We've got 10 reviews this week. We plan on that next week as well. But only you can help! Use the form on the right to smile and be free.

-- BT

The Black Table needs your help! Every week, we need reviews of the latest media-related crud, new products from Capitalists and odd idea, concept or trend. All you need to have is a sharp opinion that you can distill down to one paragraph of 150 words and give a letter grade. To submit, please fill out the form below. Entries may edited for length, style and clarity. Hit us with your best shot. Fire away.

PEPPERMINT-SCENTED PEE & POOP: I began taking the peppermint soft gels (Mentha Piperita) to calm my, eh, erratic intestine (Spasmodicus Poopchutea). Two a day, between meals. The effects began almost immediately: not the comforting of my bowels, but the pepperminting of my waste. Taking a piss at a crappy bar, it hits me: "Shit, my pee smells good, like a fucking candy dish!" The real test comes the next morning via my clockwork a.m. ca-ca (Dawnicus Excreta). Lo and behold, I can finally say it: MY SHIT DON'T STINK. Oh, as for the intestinal trouble, I think it took care of itself. A -- hillmarky

THE ANDY MILONAKIS SHOW: Caught a few episodes of the show six people have labeled genius the other day when I couldn't find the remote and MTV was stuck on repeat. Somewhat amusing in a "at least lil' Andy's bucking the trend and is putting his energy to good use instead of gunning down his tormenting classmates" sort of way, one sketch in particular though had me lift my head off the couch long enough to shake it in disgust. Biz Markie was making a cameo, and I thought it was a stretch for the show's dozen writers to team the Biz up with a kid who hadn't even been born when "Just a Friend" was on the charts. Then my roommate hit me with the truth. "Dude, he's not a kid. Everyone thinks he's a kid, but he's like old." Huh? A quick search gave fact to this hearsay. On his next birthday, that little cherub wearing a pancake on his face is turning the big 3-0, a fact that MTV is more than a little coy about. Instantly, his show went from funny-sad to just sad. No wonder Andy sounds so disaffected when he tries to show childlike glee, he's a bitter adult like the rest of us. Suddenly the entire cast of the "Surreal Life" has a lot more pride and dignity. D -- Todd Munson

THE MALE GAZE: Yes, ladies, we really do think Jessica Simpson,

Christina Aguilera, Paris Hilton and the rest of their ilk are off-the-chain hot, and we're a little sick of you getting your post-feminist panties all bunched up about it. With all due respect, your opinion on who we should be beating off to is about as relevant as Jude Law's parenting advice. Men are genetically enslaved to big tits, pneumatic bodies and impossible bone structure. We've accepted our fate; why can't you? And don't bring up your turncoat friend who claims to be captivated by Cate Blanchett's eyes; we caught him buying the "Dukes of Hazzard" bootleg on the L train. If it makes you feel any better, most of us would rather snuff out our eardrums with post-coital Marlboros than engage in conversation with one of our airbrushed objects of desire. So why don't you get a little less worked up over our Britney Spears screensaver, and we'll do our best to come to grips with Jimmy Fallon's inexplicable hold on your hearts. "You know those are fake, right?" F -- Ryan Dodge

THE CURRENT JOBS OF THE SEINFELD STARS: I, like the rest of America, love Seinfeld. I do not, however, love what has become of the former "Seinfeld" stars. Jason Alexander's shilling for Chrysler, acting in that stupid sitcom "Listen Up" and delivering for Amazon. (I kid you not. (Here's the link.) Michael Richards has been relegated to voice work. Julia Louis-Dreyfus is set to star in what will probably be another sitcom stinker, "Old Christine." (The first was "Watching Ellie," which you probably don't remember because you either didn't watch it or are repressing the memories.) And the big guy? Seinfeld is resting on his laurels, and his residual checks, save for doing the occasional stand-up comedy show. Guys, I know "Seinfeld" is impossible to top, but surely, <EM>surely</EM> better efforts than these can be made. Don't let O'Hurley show you up with that Dancing with the Stars crap. F -- Gena Hymowech

BOUNCERS WHO LOOK AT ME FUNNY WHEN I HAND THEM MY ID: Look, I know I'm an old fart. I've been legal since the end of the first Bush administration, and I didn't even look underage when I actually was underage. But when I break out my driver's license, I'm doing so because it looks like you're carding everyone in front of me. I just want to cooperate. So don't give me one of those "You're kidding, right?" looks when I hand you my ID. That just makes me feel even older than I already do. Just humor me; take a look at the thing and hand it back. Two seconds out of your day will prevent me from patronizing your establishment in an extremely pissed-off mood. Those $6 Guinnesses make me pissed-off enough. F -- Joel Keller

CUTE PUPPIES THAT TRICK YOU INTO BUYING THEM: I was in a pet store on Sixth Avenue last week when I saw two adorable white balls of cuteness rolling around in the window. I recognized them as baby bulldogs. Awww. Immediately, a couple next to me went into the store and began to play with the female. Sure, they are cute, but I wonder if the pet store will tell the couple that when their little white piggy gets older, they will need to clean her wrinkles almost every day, perhaps applying Vaseline and ointment. They also may need to lube the dog's eyes when they dry out, a common bulldog affliction. Their tails also sometimes settle into a pocket, and that takes cleaning, too. They also might need to squirt lemon into the dog's throat if it clogs with phlegm. And, oh, it's hot out, so make sure your piggy stays inside in the air conditioning or he'll overheat like Dad's old Plymouth. I know that the cuteness is worth the $1,000, but I'd like to take this moment to encourage the adopting of a shelter dog. Oops, almost forgot, bulldogs' eye discharge sometimes stains their fur and requires careful cleaning. Now that's cute!! C -- Caren Lissner

GOING TO THE COURTHOUSE: I'm getting fingerprinted so that a computer in the state capitol can spit out a piece of paper confirming that I've never done anything criminally wrong. I have every right to be here, sitting on what I swear is the exact same bench once parked outside my elementary school principal's office. I'm simply making use of the massive, disinfectant-smelling bureaucracy we all pay into, to prove to fellow citizens that I'm a safe, sane, team-player type with no record of diddling minors or floating nix checks. So why is it that a trickle of sweat is meandering down the buttons of my spine, and how come when the lady comes out to call my name, I jump three feet in the air and look around guiltily, as if expecting Geraldo Rivera to have taken an interest in my paper-pushing formalities? Reflexive institutional heebie-jeebies: C-. Getting to leave under my own power, without leg irons: A -- Bergman

HALFWAY HOOKUP: Back in America for the first time in ten months and hey! Why not get together for a drink or two, see if the sparks are still there? When four minutes into meeting we're making out on the kitchen counter, and then you're pushing me away and saying that we "can't do it" because the Frenchy who rollerblades around campus that you dumped me for is off in France, I probably should have just gone home, watched the Cards game and forgot about it. But no! To the bar, and more making out, followed by slaps to the face, followed by groping in the car, followed by tears, followed by breathless questions about condoms and if I had any, followed by your rushing for the door and me lamely chasing after you (but only after zipping myself up in my goddamned zipper), followed by me driving home alone at 3:30 and wondering what the hell I came back for. But hell, Cards won. C -- Jake Swearingen

KEYSPAN PARK: Coney Island's ball field, home to the Brooklyn Cyclones, a class-A affiliate of the New York Mets, is one of the more pristine treasures at Coney Island, most of which seems covered in about 83 layers of grease. The local ads for the likes of "Sal's Transmissions" and others are a nice respite from the blaring chain-store nonsense at the major league parks. Plus, to sit in the bleachers for $5 is a nice treat. Of course, the game is only intermittedly interesting, but that's kind of the point. We were most impressed with the Ketchup v. Mustard race during one of the middle innings. Mustard won, so all was right with the world. A- -- David Gaffen

GETTING MY FIRST DUI: OK, I've been fucking up lately, I'll be the first to admit it. But dammit, I love my vodka!! Oh, sweet potato squeezins ... how i love thee. Anyhoo, the past two weeks have sucked royal ass; I did a three-day self-admitted stint in "rehab" (where I pretty much was tranqued-up and sleeping the whole time), took a few days off work, etc. Didn't sleep that night, called in to work, I did a few shots (yeah, three days in a behavioral center really cures) and went down to the local pharmacy to fill my scrips for antidepressants. Oops! Damn seatbelt laws in Indiana ... got pulled over by the local asshole cop, blew one point over the legal limit. Three hours in jail and 100 bucks later, I was a free woman. Now I get to sit in suspension while my attorney figures out how the hell to get me off with a reckless driving charge ($1,000 well-spent, I'm sure!). Ahh, I suppose all those years of getting away with shit has finally caught up to me. Getting to spend three hours in the local redneck jail wearing used shoes: D-. Learning a friggin' lesson: B+ -- michelle

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