OK, OK, so I couldn’t get off that easily. Allow me to go further into the belly of the beast.

There’s this radio ad—perhaps you’ve heard it yourself—for the “Coors Original Bar Network.” Allow me to relay the key dialogue for you:

Woman: (Sounding like a hybrid of Carmela Soprano and Fran Drescher) Why is this place such a mess?!

Man: (Obviously disinterested) Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Woman: My favorite show Friends is going to be on in a few minutes and I want you to rub my feet while I watch it!

Professional Superhero, Radio Voiceover Man: Sound like a typical Thursday night? You need a guy’s night out with the Coors Original Bar Network.

Woman: Look at this, the toilet seat’s up again!

Radio Voiceover Man: The Coors Original Bar Network is a secretive group of real guys who don’t want to sit at home and watch “Must Be TV.” Who wants to watch some show about two fruit loops and a girl, or a bunch of friends getting paid $70 million an episode to think they're funny?

Looking back, the only flaw I can find is that if the Coors Original Bar Network is a “secretive group,” why are they advertising on 106.9 WCCC?

Aside from that, this entire ad smacks of the truth.

Look, Friends was cute when it first came out. It was entertaining, but in no way massively creative. If you really think about it, Friends is just Three’s Company plus three main characters minus one landlord.

But nowadays, the writers seem to be mixing in equal parts sitcom cliché and sloppy, haphazard plotlines. They’ve already milked the show of every possible relationship between the six characters (unless they really get down and dirty and go for an incestuous relationship between Ross and Monica… which, if Vince Russo were writing, I wouldn’t doubt for a second that such a storyline would have been already considered), two of them are married, two of them have had babies. How much further can you go? When you start throwing tired sitcom mainstays like weddings and babies into the mix, you’re just hammering the nails into the coffin faster. These kind of shows half a fixed half-life, and for all intents and purposes, Friends should have been done and buried two seasons ago.

But no. Oh, no. That would be far too easy.

Y’see, there’s a reason they granted this show one more season. It’s because the cast members are such whiny prima donnas, they don’t want to let go of their sacred cow.

Having said that, I’ll give them this much: they’re smart whiny prima donnas, because they know they won’t have a career after this wreck is over. Seriously, who here has managed to cultivate a successful film career? No one. OK, so Courtney Cox was in the Scream series, but do you really think people were flocking because her name was on the marquis? No, they were flocking for the exact same reasons that people watch Friends: bad writing and bad acting. You know, the things that appeal to the masses. And Lisa Kudrow doesn’t count either. She had a bit part in the Analyze This movies, but c’mon. If didn’t go to that movie because of Bobby De Niro, you’re in need of a chainsaw to the gut, my friend (damn straight I’m addicted to Vice City).

Folks, the modern sitcom died when Seinfeld ended its successful, and immensely groundbreaking run. Everything since then has just been one big mile-high pile of fluff. This is why game shows and reality shows have taken over the once domineering spot of the sitcom, leaving for a very desolate teenage wasteland in the country known as network television. Save The Simpsons, SNL, American Dreams, and The West Wing, there’s really nothing on network TV anymore, leaving some (like myself) thanking God for cable programming like South Park and premium cable shows like The Sopranos.

‘Cause Friends just ain’t funny. These people are not worth the money they’re making, end of story. Of course, you couldn’t convince the folks at NBC of that all too obvious fact. Anything they can do to remain America’s sweetheart network will be done in half a heartbeat.

And tell me there’s not an E! True Hollywood Story already in the works. C’mon, between Courtney Cox getting married to David Arquette, Matthew Perry going in and out of rehab, Jennifer Aniston’s rivalry with her mom and her marriage to Brad Pitt, and the constant salary battles, there’s at least a two hour show to be had. And I know, you’re wondering, “If he hates the show, how does he know all this?” The answer is simple. It’s the same reason I know about Britney and Justin’s breakup. It's the same reason I know about J-Lo and Ben’s romance. It's the same reason I know where each of Christina Aguilera's piercings are. It’s the same reason I know the name of Anna Nicole Smith’s interior decorator. Because I’ve had it forcibly shoved down my throat for far too long. I can’t turn around in a CVS without one of my least favorite Friends being plastered on the cover of some rotten magazine, be it People or The National Enquirer. It sickens me. Because of this lingering interest in Friends, I’m guaranteed to be hearing about this show and its oh, so humorous antics long after its dead (which at this rate probably won’t be for another five years).

But I, for one, will never remember any of the cast members of Friends as cast members of Friends. Look at it this way, I’m doing them a favor. They’re afraid of being typecast, so I’ll do them the courtesy of looking past their most popular roles, and focus in on the real special roles.

Matthew Perry, I’ll always remember you for co-staring in Chris Farley’s last full-length film, Almost Heroes. Pure genius.

Jennifer Aniston, you’ll always be that girl from the first Leprechaun movie.

Matt LeBlanc, you’ll be that kid who co-starred in that one episode of Married… With Children, and went on to star in a half-assed spin-off called Top Of The Heap.

Lisa Kudrow, you’re still that ditzy girl in the coffee shop from Mad About You.

David Schwimmer… I still don’t know who the fuck you are, and that suits me fine.

Last but not least, Courtney Cox, the only one with a beefy résumé. Not only are you the girl Springsteen danced with in “Dancing In The Dark,” but you’re also that Earth girl from the Masters of the Universe movie.

And there you have it. The truth about your so-called Friends.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow

(P.S., all hate mail can be sent to Michael Vick)