While most of you were drooling over “True Blood” last night, I had much more important things to attend to. Namely, the season finale of “Daisy Of Love.” What went down wasn’t a shocker to anyone who’d been watching the season, which took trashy reality dating shows to a whole new glorious low. In the end, even when given the choice of the mega-hot, super-sweet, and totally amusing Flex, Daisy chose London, the homeless 30-year-old rocker from Brooklyn with perma-eyeliner and maybe a girlfriend. Yep, she chose the guy who passed out drunk in a hallway the first night of the series and left midway through because he couldn’t take it, only to eventually come back, with his mohawk between his legs. These two had a gravitational pull towards each other, even though they’re obviously a trainwreck-about-to-happen. The show’s host Ricky Rachtman seemed totally surprised by Daisy’s choice. But I, on the other hand, was not.

A new study published in The Social Science Quarterly completely backs up Johnny Cash’s story in ”A Boy Named Sue.” As it turns out, calling your baby boy something uncommon, unpopular, or feminine will most definitely “increase the tendency toward juvenile delinquency.” There’s a greater chance he’ll wind up in the slammer … or playing “Indiana Jones” like Shia LaBeouf.

While the Shippensburg University researchers proved that a girlie-named guy will be forced to be a fighter, at least on the playground, on the upside, rebels eventually make delicious man candy! Am I right, ladies? So, to help you on your hunt for the sexiest piece of ass, here are the top ten names that separate the men from the bad boys, after the jump…

The second SexReally podcast by anti-hookup crusader Laura Sessions Stepp is online, this time looking into the subject of “Why Nice Guys Finish Last.”

Jorge from NYC told Sessions Stepp that he “stopped being nice” because he wasn’t getting any girls and added, “I know guys who are a**holes because they think that’s the only approach to get women.” Brittany, a student at George Washington University, gushed over bad boy “confidence” and “swagger” and dished about a relationship she had with a guy who “made [her] feel lower in some way” and wasn’t “gainfully employed legally.”  I guess we women just don’t know what’s good for us!

After checking out ConjugalHarmony.com, a mock online dating site feigning to connect prisoners with those on the outside, we gave the convict-dating phenomenon some closer inspection. The result? There are clearly a bunch of reasons not to date a man behind bars (enforced long-distance relationship, depression at his non-voter status in certain states… him being a CONVICT), but there are also some potential perks. Check them out after the jump.

While my Jewish grandmother could probably give you a bunch of different reasons why I’m still single, researchers from the Universities of Liverpool and Stirling think they’ve solved my problem.  Last week, The Frisky’s resident cutie pie, Catherine, asked us to confess what turns us on.  Here’s what I admitted:

“I love a man with scars, especially from acne. I can’t explain the attraction. Sometimes I have to ask myself: ‘Am I into this guy or am I just hot for his acne scars?”

It’s true.  My friends tease me like I’m some sort of scar-fetishist because I always go for dudes with “damage.” To them I say the old Apple Jack’s slogan, “Hey, we eat what we like!” I like me a face full of scars and apparently I’m not alone….

I have dated losers of all stripes. Degenerate gamblers, pathological liars, cheaters, guys who can’t get it up, nymphomaniacs, older guys, younger guys, short guys, out of shape guys, steroid-pumping in-shape guys, musicians, baby daddies and waiters. I even had a brief affair with a Voice Over Artist. Yes, in a world where you can’t find a boyfriend, you have sex with a man who reads out loud – for a living.

Totally shockingly, in this vast, impressive portfolio of Y chromosome mediocrity, I have always ended up with the #&@$% end of the stick. The common thread that weaves all these winners together (deep-seeded dysfunction aside) is the complete ambiguity that defined my relationship with each of them. We dated, often for months on end, but was he my boyfriend? I would be plagued with the flogging inner monologue of a quiz show – question after question after question. What was he doing when he wasn’t with me? How come he drinks so much? Why does he smell like Chanel No. 5 when I wear Stella McCartney? And where did all those track marks on his arms come from?

You know, typical pseudo-girlfriend type worries. 

Last night I went to dinner with a friend and her adorable four-and-a-half year old daughter Eva. I was pleasantly mortified to discover that Eva and I shared the same taste in music—we’re both really into Miley Cyrus aka Hannah Montana. I swear, as I get older, my taste in music gets more juvenile. Anyway, Eva and I dished for a while about Miley, That’s So Raven, and Zach and Cody (two other shows on the Disney Channel), before her mom and I started discussing the weird values these shows start ingraining in the little ones before they’re even old enough to read. For example, Zach and Cody are twin brothers—one of them is the smart, nerdy, “good” one, while the other is wild, naughty, and a bit of a bad boy—naturally, many, many little girls are known to like the bad boy best. Isn’t it weird how pop culture tries to get you to choose between them before you’re even in puberty?

One of the greatest gifts I got this holiday was the My So-Called Life complete box set. In case you weren’t part of the show’s demographic during its unjustly short lifespan (one amazing, wonderful season), here’s a synopsis: the show follows 15-year old Angela Chase as she tries to make it through life at her suburban high school, hanging out with her new “rebellious” friends Rayanne (the drunk) and Rickie (the gay), barely able to stand her parents Patty and Graham, and falling head over heels for bad boy (and totally illiterate!) heartthrob Jordan Catalano. So MSCL was hands down my favorite TV show ever and I, like many girls I know, so empathized with Angela’s character—the writers did a stupendous job capturing the teen angst meets boy crazy obsession that makes teen girls so….hard to understand, usually. Anyway, I kind of wondered whether the show would still resonate with me though I’m now older, much less angsty, and a whole lot less boy crazy. For example, would I wisely now see the appeal of Angela’s nerdy neighbor Brian Krakow over the insanely gorgeous, but also rude and dumb-as-rocks Jordan? Um, yeah. No. Brian, while used and abused by Angela still seems totally….deserving of her contempt 14 years later while Jordan’s silent but deadly indifference still is the stuff that drives girls, and apparently women, wild. Not to get all cerebral about a TV show, but does this prove that bad boys still finish first and nice guys will always finish last? [Amazon.com]