You know this picture is right. I wonder if Jim has any talent smeared on his hand when he pulls it out of her puppet hole. I doubt it.

To this point in my life, the only McGee that mattered to me was famed St. Louis Cardinals centerfielder Willie McGee. Now there is a disgusting new McGee in my life: newest famewhore Michelle McGee. Her claim to fame? Fucking somebody named Jesse James, who happened to be the husband of beloved screen sweetheart Sandra Bullock.

Isn’t it amazing that you can be famous simply for opening your legs? Paris Hilton was unknown until she swallowed a nine inch cock. Brody Jenner was unknown until he stuffed half of Hollywood. “Octomom” would have been the name of a villain in an old Disney cartoon, but now it describes a woman whose claim to fame is being incredibly fertile and whorish. In the old days, actresses slept with producers in secret in order to get a starring role. Now they simply sleep with the most famous person they can in order to be famous without needing any other discernible skills.

McGee is the latest hyped-up slut to reach the pages of tabloids and appear on television. She used her fleeting moment in the spotlight to pose for revolting, Nazi-inspired pictures that outraged most thoughtful people. Despite her decent body, she looks used-up, well-ridden, and old. She looks like a chick that would get ass-fucked on a motorcycle if it meant someone paid attention to her for three seconds.

Seriously, America … when are you going to stop bothering to support these idiots? Stop watching Jersey Shore, stop commenting on Perez Hilton’s posts about this cunt, stop buying the sex tapes of celebrity nobodies and their cronies. Just stop, and make these fucking retards go the fuck away.

As the inexplicably hot hit series The Hills cools down, MTV has found itself in the difficult position of replacing it with something new that will build buzz for the increasingly-irrelevant station.

So they came up with the idea of gathering together a collection of the dumbest human beings still able to walk and breathe at the same time … and then base a “reality show” around them. The catch this time: they’re all Italian. Wow.

The show, called Jersey Shore, premiered last week to some of the most scathing reviews ever. Yet every nasty word said about this atrocity is perfectly deserved.

The show follows six vapid, self-absorbed “guidos” and “guidettes” as they fake tan, pluck their copious eyebrows, and flex in front of the mirror. I suppose the appeal of the show is supposed to be our admiration for their looks and bodies, which are nice, of course. But then they open their mouths, and you quickly realize that these are probably the most worthless creatures ever produced by the haphazard natural selection of human sexuality. I’ve left ejaculate in tube socks that had more emotional depth and concern for others. If I happened to be related to any of them, I would kill them with a blunt instrument in front of MTV’s cameras as a gift to popular culture and the preservation of the human race.

Here is a clip that assembles the MTV promos for each non-entity: