There are few TV shows I’m committed to, and “Entourage” is one of them. The writing is flawless, and Jeremy Piven’s spot-on performance as the insatiable Ari Gold always cracks me up. Sure there are better ways to spend a Sunday evening, but when Vince, E, Drama and Turtle – “The Boys” as I’ve grown to call them – are there to laugh with, not much else matters.

But as the show has grown in popularity, I’ve noticed how it makes untalented actors believe that Vince’s glamorous lifestyle is not only possible, but imminent. With few credits to their name, they dream of those whimsical summer afternoons, high atop a Hollywood Hills mansion, with a refrigerator stocked full of Corona and an endless stream of beautiful women to numb them into submission.

Are they wrong to assume that they too will be rewarded the fruits of Hollywood excess? Perhaps. But the world can hold only one Vincent Chase. And he’s already on TV.

Maybe I’m unfair in my assessment, but it’s easy to brush off someone’s dreams of wealth and fame when his resume tops off at extra work for public television.

I’m reminded of a few actor friends of mine who are devoted “Entourage” fans. Each week they watch from their comfortable chairs, doe-eyed and innocent, with the spoils of Vince’s success never far from thought.

This was evident on a recent visit to their den of inactivity (a.k.a. their apartment). The show had just finished, and as the end credits rolled the smaller of the two stood up and pointed to the screen.

“One day,” he said, “I will be Vince.”

The volume was muted, and he stared at me with this glowing expression. He was proud and confident. It looked as if he was about to recite the “Pledge of Allegiance.”

Then, on one knee, he asked, “Will you be in my entourage?”

It was difficult not to laugh. But I still did.

Even I have fallen victim to “Entourage.” There was a time when I knew little about the entertainment industry.

Sure, I was aware that it called Los Angeles  home, but aside from that I was just about as naïve as the next person. As I became more involved in the show and its characters, however, I found that I could speak with great confidence on subjects I had no authority to expound on.

On one such occasion I spoke at length on how certain washed up A-listers could no longer “carry a movie” because their image had been tarnished by the public. I used the episode where Vince was fired from the set of Smoke Jumpers as an example, and people ate it up.

It was sad that I had no idea what the episode in question had to do with my argument. But even sadder was the fact that everyone believed me. They certainly nodded their heads enough.

“Entourage” does have a wonderful ability to supply loathsome hacks, like myself, with insight into a business that is completely foreign. But when talentless actors are given the false reassurance that they too will have a career that resembles Vince’s, then the show has failed.

It’s merely entertainment, after all. Not a foreseeable future. Besides, most actors know they suck. They just need someone like me to tell them.

I’ll continue to watch “Entourage,” but it’s doubtful I’ll return to that same friend’s house. After all, he’s no Vinny Chase.