Question: Are you freaking out as much as I'm freaking out? Because I'm freaking the fawk out! As you know, this national election thingy is just around the corner, which means I'm jumpier than a Catholic towel boy in the Vatican sauna. I KNOW, I KNOW... There's probably nothing to worry about. The McCain campaign has dug itself into such a deep latrine (and then filled it to the brim with slushy poop), that the outcome is all but certain. So why am I freaking? Because I have PTSDFFYA! (Post-traumatic stress disorder from four years ago!)

Four years ago I was SO confident that John Kerry was going to win the election, I actually talked my brother into naming his kid "John Kerry Humphrey." AND THE KID WAS A GIRL!! Now she's four years old and all the daycare kids call her "LOSER" and try to "swiftboat" her! My brother also says she likes to stick Polly Pocket dolls inside her butt—but I think that's genetics.

Anyway! Since I have PTSDFFYA, I'm deathly afraid the Republicans are going to pull some wild bamboozle and once again slime their way into the White House. AND YES, I'VE TRIED DRUGS, YOU DING-A-LING! Sorry... sorry... it's just that my Valium-Percocet-Oxycontin-vodka cocktail doesn't seem to be helping at all—which means I'm going to have to resort to desperate measures.

At this point, there is only one thing that can calm me down. And that's... THE HILLS (MTV, Mon 10 pm).

That's right, I admit it. I WATCH THE HILLS—but only for its medicinal purposes! See, whenever I watch an episode of The Hills, my brain activity slows down to the point where it almost flatlines. Similarly, my heart rate and breathing also significantly drop, sending my body into a near comatose state—not unlike when one drowns in an icy pond. I can survive for up to 30 minutes in such a manner, which is lucky because that's how long the average episode lasts. But afterward? POOF! I immediately snap out of it, feeling relaxed, refreshed, and rejuvenated! It's like Summer's Eve... for the BRAIN!

How does it work? Here's my theory: The Hills is so utterly devoid of drama or content that the brain enters a deep meditative trance—like staring at a blank wall or watching paint dry. However, there are just enough tiny pinpricks of interest to keep one from going into an irreversible autistic state. For example? Lauren Conrad's mustache. Or Audrina Patridge's donkey teeth. Or that Lo Bosworth resembles a bunny rabbit getting a rectal exam. Or that Heidi Montag looks like a sex cyborg from the year 3082 that was sent back in time because she was awful in the sack. Or that Spencer Pratt and every other douchebag on this show make Douchey McBaggerson, the grand marshal of Douche Town's annual Douchebag Parade say, "C'mon! How am I supposed to top that?!"

So if you're suffering from pre-election PTSDFFYA, join the millions of Americans, like me, who watch The Hills. (Warning: Side effects of The Hills may include nausea, vomiting, night sweats, blind staggers, rickets, and painful rectal itch.)

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