"The Chevy Chase Show" (1993)
As a lifelong devotee who still holds out hope that Chase will someday find a vehicle that could return his magic, I have to admit that I probably watched more episodes of Chevy's infamous program than he did. And, as someone who has nearly come to blows with people while defending "Funny Farm," even I have to admit that everything about this show was an unmitigated mess. For five fabulous weeks, Chase broke out in dance, attempted to make Jennie Garth interesting and even retreated to reading the news like he did in his "Saturday Night Live" glory days. On top of all that was one fact that even the "Fletch" funnyman would have a hard time denying: He was an absolute jerk. From awkwardly hitting on Goldie Hawn, to cribbing notes from Ernie Kovacs and Steve Allen, to broadcasting from "The Chevy Chase Theater," the man seemed oblivious to the fact that people need to accept the host as a friend if he or she is to succeed. Like the goldfish stuck in the tank behind his chair, it was evident from day one that this Chevy vehicle was going nowhere.

"George & Alana" (1995-1996)
Proving once and for all that all Hollywood personalities eventually get their own talk show, this one-season wonder was hosted by leather-skinned cheese ball George Hamilton and future "I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!" contestant Alana Stewart -- most famous for being the ex-wife of George Hamilton. Their gimmick was that they would bicker and take swipes at each other but were really best friends to the end. This would prove fortunate after the ratings came in, because both had a sympathetic shoulder to cry on.

"The Pat Sajak Show" (1989-1990)
Like a "Wheel of Fortune" contestant attempting to buy a "Y," the game-show host couldn't have been thinking too clearly when he accepted a gig as a late-night talk-show host. What began as a 90-minute program was quickly reduced to 60, but that didn't make it any easier for the eternally grinning Pat Sajak to come up with compelling material. Having the audacity to try to unseat Johnny Carson, Sajak had the drapes, the spotlight, the band and the couch but not the charisma. One of Sajak's few memorable episodes featured an interview with Robbie and Evel Knievel -- appropriate, because the show was such a disaster.

"The Magic Hour" (1998-1999)
Chevy Chase had a basketball net on the set of his talk show and so did Marsha Warfield but, oddly enough, Magic Johnson did not. That was the first of many mistakes: from Craig Shoemaker as the supposedly funny "sidekick" to Sheila E.'s lame Latino musical stylings to Johnson's own unease speaking in front of an audience. The program got far more attention than it deserved when Howard Stern began playing audio clips daily, deconstructing the previous night's Magic debacle. Finally, when cancellation was imminent, Johnson loosened up enough to have Stern on the show, and the result had everything that had been missing during the previous months: humor, unpredictability and irreverence.

"The Roseanne Show" (1998-2000)
Her in-your-face attitude and off-the-cuff humor made Roseanne (nee Barr, then Arnold, then Thomas) a sitcom superstar, but when she tried to translate it to daytime TV, her guests found each of Roseanne's 20-something personalities more terrifying than the last. The program similarly suffered from schizophrenia, as it drifted from its more topical beginnings into a second year of guests such as Jolene the Trailer Park Queen -- who extolled the virtues of pink lawn flamingos while Roseanne nodded sympathetically and ate caviar.

"The Tempest Bledsoe Show" (1995)
The title alone sounds like some passing joke they'd make on "The Simpsons" -- you know the name, but which "The Cosby Show" woman was it? No, not wild child Lisa Bonet, charming Phylicia Rashad or successful second-act Raven-Symone, but that other one -- you know, Vanessa, the girl who always had all the crazy hair-don'ts? Those who did tune in to the cookie-cutter talk show (and hung around through the opening credits despite the lack of a dancing Bill Cosby) didn't find much to hold their attention, other than the post-Arsenio Hall enthusiasm of an urban audience and Bledsoe's occasional attempts to make the world a better place through pontification. The show went off the air just a few months later, with audiences finding the experience slightly less pleasurable than being forced to wear Theo's Gordon Gartrelle shirt.