“I’ve always loved TV and I wanted to do something crazy,” Julia Bernstein said before the taping of her weekly talk show on Roseville public access. “When I found out the class was practically free, and so close to where I lived, I went for it.”

To call “The Boring Show” a talk show may be misleading to those expecting animated conversation between host and guest. As a last-minute replacement guest on the day I came to observe, I was asked to be as unexciting as I could. Those that know me would say, “no problem, just act natural.” But the truth is, when the red light on the camera goes on, the pressure to perform and entertain takes over.

That is where Bernstein, whose host character is mind-numbingly monotonous and dull, needs to keep her guests in check.

“My guests get out of control if they talk with too much enthusiasm,” she said. “I have to remind them that we don’t get excited like that on ‘The Boring Show.’”

Instead, she’ll steer toward safer subject matter, like reading a dishwasher manual or having a friend explain the Linux operating system or how to fold a napkin. There is no script. It’s all improvised, the more ridiculous the better.

“I do stuff that people would think is boring, is supposed to be boring and it’s so boring there’s humor in it,” Bernstein said. “It’s low key, very dry humor, almost British.”

As for my shining on-screen moment, I read my business card, trying to inject entertainment value into the names of The Press-Tribune’s sister publications. Any attempt at describing the hustle and bustle of the newsroom and the pressures of looming deadlines was met with a yawn. Such is the fate of a guest on “The Boring Show.”

“I wouldn’t have a clown on,” Bernstein said, “unless of course he was a very boring clown.”

To find one of those, you may have to tune in to C-SPAN. In the meantime, “The Boring Show” keeps things uninteresting every Wednesdays at 7:30 p.m.