OK, I can't guarantee I'm going to be right about this, so please don't be upset if it turns out I'm wrong. With that caveat in place, let me offer this prediction: I believe there's a reasonably good chance that we will be able to go the entire month of January without seeing or hearing from Snoop Dogg.

I know, it sounds crazy. You're probably saying to yourself, "And to think, I didn't trust the media before this idiot started spouting such asinine theories. No Snoop for a month? Ha! That'll be the day." But just hear me out.

First, though, let me state for the record that I enjoy Snoop Dogg's pimpish yet cuddly style as much as the next white male who was raised in the suburbs. I, too, wrote my congressman when Snoop wasn't allowed on that Muppets special. (Why, one wonders, was the late John Denver allowed to do both Muppet specials and "Girls Gone Wild" videos?)

But somewhere along the line — I guess it was around the time that Snoop's "izzle" language had become so ubiquitous that forecasts for drizzle on The Weather Channel were suspiciously up 500 percent — I started to get a teensy bit sick of the guy. The man was killing me with gangsta kindness.

So, I made the necessary adjustments, from fast-forwarding through Snoop's scene in "Old School" to spending more alone time with Suge Knight. I avoided MTV altogether and started exclusively watching ESPN until, of course, they started incessantly showing promos for Snoop's guest spot on "Playmakers."

When it comes to the D-O-double-G, however, you can run, but you cannot hide — eventually, he'll sniff you out. For me, it happened last week. I turned off the radio when the song "P.I.M.P." by 50 Cent (featuring Snoop Dogg) came on and clicked on the TV. The second season of "Doggy Fizzle Televizzle" hasn't started yet, so I felt reasonably safe.

But as I sat back and tried to enjoy an AOL commercial starring Jerry Stiller, a sense of foreboding crept into the room and scared the cat. The lights flickered. And then He appeared, demanding: "Wait just a minizzle!"

Now, ever since Snoop appeared on the scene in the early '90s, I have been anxiously waiting for him to team up with Jerry Stiller. But this was one Snoop sighting too many, and I must have fainted, because the last vision I had before waking up in the hospital with tubes sticking in me was of Snoop offering up his bong and saying with a devilish grin, "Don't worry, little man, I'm just smoking . . . oxygen."

I'm much better now, thank you. I take comfort in the fact that "Holidae In" by Chingy (featuring Ludacris and Snoop) will likely only head down the charts at this point. I don't think it's naive of me to think it'll be all but off the radio by the end of the year, especially if I and the rest of my prayer chain keep calling stations to request other Chingy songs.

That will bring us to January, when the calendar looks blessedly Snoopless. For those other Snoop-afflicted souls, I say let us again venture out into the world, or at least turn on the TV again.

And, Snoop, if you're reading this, please "lay low," to quote one of your marvelous hits, for those 31 days. I promise you that a month apart will only renew my fandom, and I will then root harder than anyone for your song "Beautiful" at the Grammys in February. And I will be first in line in May to see you in "Starsky and Hutch." And I'll tape all the new episodes of your TV show. And I'll get all friends to go see your movie "Soul Plane" in June. And .

XXXXX

(Mark Bazer can be reached at mebazer@yahoo.com.)

(c) 2003 Mark Bazer, Distributed by Tribune Media Services