Holly's bat sh*t crizazy. No one cares.

So we remember the days of yesteryear, when the folks were working and Playboys were easy to come by, just as long as one would clean them for fingerprints and put them *exactly* back where they belonged.

One would sometimes have to make sure one's footprints were erased from the fun rug that one could spell his name in in the folks' bedroom.

But one digresses.

We realized this morning that ever since new job, we haven't been on the TMZ. At all. We've been more with the regular news cycle sites and, gasp, things like local newspaper online comment sections.

So this morning, we checked out the TMZ and learned all about this.

If the E! producers had any balls, they'd let that sh*t implode. On camera. Everyone loves a good plastic meltdown, and Holly is so going to lose her mind.

GO TEAM KENDRA/BRIDGET!

There. We feel better now, and we shall go back to reading the Poynter and caring about things that matter, like the world on its slow burn to destruction and Obama's presidential run and updating our match profile and all of these things.