It only took Slate's American Idolator blogger Jody Rosen, like, 11 days β€” just an Ice Age in blogtime, Jo-Doll β€” to address the issue of our fresh-faced defender of the American tit-ocracy Antonella Barba. So why does it feel strangely empty? Let's read between the lines, shall we?



America finally sent Antonella Barba home last night. It was the right and proper thing to do.



There is nothing right and proper about anything else America did involving Antonella Barba. I know, because I work at Slate, which keeps strict policies against the downloading of pornographic materials that do not imply federal perjury or obstruction of justice charges, but a source familiar with the custodial department told me the office tissue supply was at its lowest since Schaefer snagged that copy of that Lynne Cheney book.



So why do I feel strangely empty?



Oh man, is that possible? I mean, hypothetically, how many times would it take to make me literally empty?

Is it because, thanks to all those leaked photos, I feel I know this girlβ€”her hopes, her dreams, her Cuervo shots?

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Cripes, where was all this shame when I was role-playing Dash Snow?

Presumably, the good folks at Maxim will pay her a better hourly rate than she received for her wet T-shirt romp in that war memorial fountain.

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I guess I'd better change that file name from "Famous War Memorials." Oh wait! I'll just link to it!

We'll Always Have The Fountain [Slate]

Related: Antonella Barba Speaks Out [Jossip]