(This picture from the What’s Coming To You archive, reminding everyone that if you’re going to act like a bitch you better be in the kitchen making me dinner.)

Perez Hilton is to this profession what Sarah Jessica Parker’s womb is to her, ugly and beyond useless. And while it hasn’t been my stated goal to tear that weird, whiny megalomaniac down… let’s just say that feather in my cap would be a big, male peacock euphemism. He’s garnered some noise about this 7+ minute masturbatory, ego-boost video blog he posted on YouTube and his own site, and it has provided me my first angle of attack. It is titled “On Dating & Men” which is an adorable affectation that almost makes it look like he’s a real actual writer. Kind of like when you see a baby in a sailor suit, and you throw up in your mouth a little and hope for his sake his mom dies and he gets placed with a family that actually loves him. I sure as shit am not posting the video here (you can click the link), because that would just give him even more exposure than he deserves, but here are some excerpts for you to guffaw at.

The crux of the speech is just how super hard it is to date, both in general, as a celebrity, and as a connoisseur of cock. It is a hard-hitting, insistent push on the boundaries of how much we’re supposed to give a shit about the love life of any celebrity, let alone a negative Z celebrity, and one can’t help but grunt and tear up at the pressure. Was that too subtle?

“I just need to put this out there in the Universe. Own it, give it away, and hopefully… be free from it, learn from it, grow from it, and also express how I’m feeling and what I want and need and maybe some of you will relate to what I have to say.”

Great, so for the next seven minutes, fans of Perez (they exist) can expect to have imposed upon them a greasy, sacharine bitch-burger that he readily admits is pretty common and relatable. Sign me up for that! I can’t wait to hear about the personal growth of a dude who makes a career out of being a celebrity parasite, all topped off with a Santa list of the shit we’re not laying at his feet like we should be. Continue, sir.

“So, for the longest time, I did not want to date. [super punctuation] … I didn’t even want to get naked with someone… I was extremely overweight, and I didn’t want anyone to seeing me naked. So for the longest time — I’m talkin’ loooong time — after i started doing the website I was practically celibate. By choice.”

Yeah, that is definitely why you weren’t getting any. Because you chose not to. Try to Brillo the image of a fat, naked Perez Hilton the fuck out of your mind as we strap ourselves in for this ride.

“In my mind, I thought ‘Gosh, when I get in shape and start lookin’ good, it’s going to be so easy to date.’ WRONG! I have become painfully aware that dating is. not. easy…”

Thanks for the update, Roger Lodge. Nobody has ever had dating trouble before, especially after a “self imposed” period without practice. In fact, I would go so far as to say this love fest couldn’t get more self-indulgent – -

“AND dating is even harder when you have a certain level of fame… AND dating is even THAT MUCH HARDER when you’re me.”

I gotta stop saying that. Mira! It’s the world’s tiniest red piano playing just for you, Perez. Nevermind you wrote, produced, and starred in it.

He then goes off on this Chicken Soup for the Soul for Gays for Dummies trip, in which he employs every cliche (I hate having to use that word ever, and I’m adding it to the list, you bastard) and trope you’ve ever heard about the difficulties of dating, peppered liberally with the least creative (and sometimes kind of gross), 13-year-old girl poetry metaphors. It’s not worth quoting here, but let me paraphrase: *ahem* Dating is like picking a scab and picking and picking and picking and I just want my wounds to heal and you have to get past Perez the celebrity to get to me and Perez is me but only partly me you have to learn the real Perez and people in LA are so fake and I thought I knew how to spot fakers but I was so wrong and dating is like hitting a bullseye its all about timing in relationships and its SO HARD and I guess if it wasn’t we’d all be in relationships…

Spare me. Oh, wait there’s still more than 2 minutes left? Well, at least I saved you guys from five minutes of Saved By The Bell story hour.

“And there was this one guy, whom shall remain nameless [groan], who totally played me. He PLAYED ME so. hard. Let me tell you something, I do not make out with my friends, so don’t make out with me if we’re friends, if we want to be more than friends… then we can make out.”

Then he made a face like a constipated Incredible Hulk and made some kind of unattractive groaning sound, and continued on about how being hurt sucks. Making out? Being hurt “really sucks”? Put it in your pink diary with the dainty ineffective little clasp, you second rate diva. We get that you’re gay, dude, but you’re also purportedly – as the sistas like to say – a “grown ass man.” This guy is the ugliest high school freshman girl I have ever seen, and somehow he is one of the premier bloggers in this, the heyday of blogging. Although, I have to say, blurbs under pictures saying “You go, girl” does not a blogger make. He has influence and fans, and hob-knobs with celebrities who don’t even like him. And he makes a crap load of money! When the Teacher’s Manifesto comes out, militantly demanding better pay and a better dress code, a big picture of his ass better be on the Kinko’s glossy cover. You thought Haiti was bad, I can’t wait to see what Pat Robertson has to say when the devil cashes in his deal with this incredible dweeb.

You think you have it bad, Perez, with people wanting to suck you off to get closer to real, actual celebrities? Frankly that sounds like gravy laced with gold flakes to me. Take a look at the people out there with real dating problems. Like also-ran Democrat John Edwards, who finally came out today as the father of already admittedly his mistress’ kid.

Edwards earlier admitted that he had an affair with Rielle Hunter while he was campaigning for the Democratic presidential nomination. Hunter gave birth in February 2008 to a baby girl. She is widely reported to have named the girl Quinn. [Widely reported? What the hell kind of journalistic fact-avoidance is that?] Edwards denied that he was the girl’s father for more than a year, saying the affair was over before Hunter became pregnant.

It takes some real stones to admit paternity the rest of the world already knew about anyway. I swear to the great FSM, when I am supreme ruler of Earth and all the Human space plantation colonies, I am appointing Maury Povich as Scandal Czar. It will be such a fucking party every time a politician shtupps the wrong gold-digging bimbo that the world’s power will go out with all the popcorn we’ll be microwaving. We’ll be all popping the Red Duck (the cheapest, most excellent champagne on the market) and yelling at the TV like black people in a movie theater every time they announce a baby-daddy. Isn’t that enough to get me elected Emperor? Or, barring that, enough at least for the acknowledgment Perez Hilton is getting?

P.S. I hope you all appreciate what I went through to write this. Perez’ blog wasn’t transcribed or anything, for good reason, so I had to do all of that myself. You know, rewinding bits to get the wording right, in the face of the ultimate adversity: listening to his grating patter for any longer than I had to. That is how dedicated I am to loving you, the reader, and hating that guy.