Like It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia If Philadelphia=The Parts of DC Nobody Goes To, and Sunny=Filled With Douchetoasts.
PLEASE MAY THIS BE TRUE. Some reality teevee outfit has proposed some sort of LAGUNA BEACH-esque tone poem to the vacuous, STD-ridden, attention whores who populate Late Nite Shots. We wish these terrible, soul-destroying, culture ruining mavens at PB&J Entertainment godspeed, because we can think of no greater entertainment that watching these fools on a weekly basis, at play in their Potemkin Social Scene, hard at work pursuing Capitol Hill Stepin Fetchitry and fingerbanging each others browneyes in a mad attempt to stave off the clear ringing anvils of reality that clatter around them, attesting to their pure and unadulterated uselessness.
Oh, teevee, if you love me at all, you bring me the sight of these nozzles. In truth, I despair - because the prospects of the LNSers being able to pull off fifteen consecutive seconds of being interesting on camera (even with "interesting" lowered to The Hills standards) are exceedingly dim. Should this Union Of Dumb Motherfuckers pull it off, though, I'll be watching. And I call DCist liveblogging rights and request Boundary Street to provide me with a rotating cast of co-byliners.