The nightmare and devastation continues...and now, two weapons of self-destruction collide!

Sadly, one of them used to be hot, but now he's icky by association, and I'm only one degree away from The Ick. Too close for comfort.

I was just sleeping off the awfulness of last night's ABC "docudrama" (read: inaccurate horseshit)(okay, so somewhat touching inaccurate horseshit)(but do you really want to be touching horseshit?) about 9-11, when I woke up to a "news" bit on THIS.

Open Letter to Jay Mewes:

Oh, honey. Jay, say it ain't so. Sugar Tits? Is your career really that much in the toilet that you have to be kissing Pear-Ass HILTON?! Ohhh, that's so, so icky, even for you. Now you have the herp for sure (as if you didn't before, let alone de AIDS from all that heroin abuse...)

As punishment, I will not make out with you in a bar, EVER AGAIN-!

(Or maybe, as I've gained several years and many pounds since then, I should say, as punishment, I WILL make out with you, in a bar, again-!)

Plus that pot-smoking, coke-snorting* skank can't be good for your sobriety.

Anyway, I think there should be a new insult coined for Paris...instead of has-been, or never-was...she's a really-shouldn't-have-been. Or shouldn't-have, for short, as in Shouldn't Have. Even. Existed. Ever.

*You know why Paris Hilton does coke...? So she can look at herself in the mirror. I ain't shittin'...but you know she is. Loads.