Jeremy Eaton
And Now I Shall Gloat

As you know, I'm not one to toot my own horn (because if I were, I'd be at home tooting it right now instead of writing this dumb column). However! While I'm usually humbly silent in the face of success, I do feel my TV critic competition should be informed of one teeny-tiny tidbit of knowledge.

I WAS RIGHT, MOTHERFAWKERS!!

WHOOOOO! Yeah, baby! Who's the motherfawkin' MAN? I am the motherfawkin' MAN! Awwwww, yeahhhhhh! Soak it up, biznatch! Soak up the fact I was absolutely 100 percent RIGHT about the super-secret "twist" at the end of Joe Millionaire, which means the rest of you TV critics were WROOOOOOOOOOONNNGGG! And not only was I right about the twist, I correctly guessed it way back in January! Oooooh, it burns, don't it? Can't handle it, can you? You can't handle the fact that I'm the motherfawkin' man, and smarter than all you TV critic stank-asses combined!

Tell you what. Let's take a quick peek at that wondrous TV column I wrote WAY BACK IN JANUARY, where I proved once and for all that Humpy rulez and the rest of you hacks drool. AND I QUOTE:

"Since these girls are natural liars, when Evan tells the winner he's a pauper, she'll put on a happy face and say that thing about being porked on the bulldozer. Then! That stupid tubby butler will pop out and say, 'Fox has a surprise for you we're giving Evan a million dollars! So you see now he actually is JOE MILLIONAIRE!'"

Oh my God. HOW DID I DO IT? How did I figure out the correct answer when the rest of you dumbshit critics were eating boogers and drooling down your shirts? Could it be inside information? NAW. Psychic ability? HELL, NAW. Brainpower? HELL, YEAAAAAHHHH. I gots more brain in my head than Albert Einstein with encephalitis. I gots more smarts than a Mensa club swimming in a vat of ginkgo biloba. I gots so much intelligence, Stephen Hawking done ran his wheelchair off a cliff! I gots MAD cerebellum, yo!

Okay. I think I've proven my point. I'm smart; they're dumb. Now let's go to the I Love Television™ Mailbag™ to see what's on the minds of my readers this week. Chris D. writes: "Humpy, you called the Joe Millionaire-becomes-a-millionaire thing three weeks ago. I just want you to know you're my hero, and I want to have a firm keister like yours. Do you follow a strict diet and exercise regimen, or is it just a gift? Love always, Chris."

Dear Chris: Thanks for your oh-so-kind words. As for the structural perfection of my tooshie, I can only thank the good Lord for the blessings he bestowed upon me--which, among many other things, include my gigantic brain and the buttery smoothness of my honey-baked ham.

And as for all you less intelligent TV critics, BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, BITCHES!! Or else I shall use my gargantuan intellect to destroy you ALL, as sure as my prediction comes true that Dixon from Alias will become an evil double agent for Sloane!

(See you in three weeks for another megalomaniacal rant.)