Seriously I do not typically support violence, but I’m making an exception.

Just put her out of her own misery.

Heidi has released a new single, “Fashion,” which is, predictably, like the worst thing ever.

Listen at your own risk.

It was bad. So bad. To Montag’s credit, she trumpets Heidiwood’s prices of $10 to $60 for any given item — compared to the triple-digit tags on L.C.’s line, that’s a sure sign that she at least she understands her demographic. And yet everything we saw still gave us sticker shock. Paper-thin tanks for $27? Flimsy, panty-line-molesting dresses at nearly 40 bucks? Sure, that’s a steal compared to Marc Jacobs, but not far enough removed from what you’d pay at the Gap for something that’s at least 100 percent cotton and unlikely to give you a rash. When $37 seems exorbitant for a dress, you know you’ve got problems. In fact, it cemented our suspicion that Heidi is turning into Paris 2.0: terrible singer, lame boyfriends, famous mostly for on-camera pouting, and excessively eager to merchandise herself, regardless of actual quality.

Luckily, it’s possible no one else is interested. Not only were we alone in visiting Heidiwood, we were the sole shoppers at that Anchor Blue, period, exposing us to the naked curiosity of the employees. “Are you a … fan of Heidi?” one of them asked. We murmured something unintelligible, much like the previous day when we called to confirm the clothes’ arrival and the store clerk said, “Are you … um … interested in the Heidi Montag stuff?” He might as well have enquired, “Are you eating glass?” But the store’s emptiness ultimately saved us — with customers nearby, we’d have lacked the guts to open the dressing-room doors.

There’s a reason, by the way, that we only photographed Montag’s designs looking unattractive on the hanger and not on ourselves: No self-respecting grown woman should allow herself to be seen in these garments. Only two of the twelve items have sleeves, and just one — a pair of jeans — extends past mid-thigh. In fact, only one other thing extends past the upper thigh: a dress that would have been mildly acceptable had it not been made from the kind of cotton you usually only see on Target’s discount panties. At one point, we faced each other: One of us wore black short-shorts with a one-inch inseam (half a thumb, for real) and a zebra-striped tank with a faux-chiffon back bow; the other, a white-denim, butt-cleavage-baring skirt with a backless teal top that’s baggy in the bust and tight at the gut — perfect if you haven’t eaten pasta in ten years and have ginormous implants (sound familiar?). The stuff was the complete opposite of flattering. We looked like rejects from Rock of Love II with Bret Michaels; stick us on the hood of a car and Whitesnake would’ve appeared, guitars in hand.

The girls from Go Fug Yourself, discussing their experience with Heidi Montag’s fashion line in NY Mag.

Ack!

Those shorts!

I feel fat just looking at them. Like, I don’t even know if my vagina could fit in those.

In fairness, this article was written by intelligent, educated, mature adult women. Which is not exactly Heidi’s target demo. These thing’ll fly off the rack at Old Navy and shit, purchased by 11-year-olds who are rocking those sexy, ultra-skinny legs that most of us normal people associate only with pre-pubescence.

Here’s Heidi Montag “rapping” on TRL this week. I’m embarrassed for her. Which is nothing new. I’m usually embarrassed for her. So is the entire country. Heidi Montag is just, like, an all-around embarrassment.

Like, this one time, I was really drunk at a party, and Tupac’s “Changes” came on, and for some reason I knew all the words, and so I grabbed a can-opener, of all things, and used it as a mic to rap along to the entire song. Many people took photographs, and they still laugh about it to this day. Like, “Remember that time you rapped with the can opener at that party in San Diego? Wanna see the pictures?? I still have them!” and I’m like, “Oh, God, no. No pictures. No talking about that. Please. Burn them.” But, like, Heidi Montag essentially did that sober in front of a national audience. Very, very tragic.

Here’s Heidi Montag backstage at her “fashion show” for her “fashion line” which will be sold through Anchor Blue.

OMG.

Okay, look, I like to think that, if I had a body like that, I’d still have better sense than to dress that way. Especially at an event where I’m supposed to be the resident professional. I don’t know if that’s true, but I’ll never again have a body like that, so I’ll never have to find out. When I was 14, I used to dress like that. And I looked damn good. All the men at the bus stops thought so.

Ha ha, I remember in 8th grade, we had a class “field trip” to a homeless shelter to help serve food. It was so funny. I went to this absurdly pricey private school, and they’d always have these little events to encourage us to mix with poor people. As an adult, I understand and appreciate what they were trying to do, but, as kids, we just didn’t get it. We didn’t hate poor people, we just didn’t understand what you were supposed to do with them. Like, twice a year they’d have these “mixers” with the local school for homeless kids. It was pretty much the most awkward thing ever. I think, as uninterested as we were in talking with those kids, they were even less interested in talking with us. We’d just stare at them and be like, “Um, can we give you a makeover?” and we were genuinely trying to be helpful, but of course, in retrospect, it was very awful of us. I think the whole thing just furthered the divide. We were trying to be nice, but I’m sure we ended up confirming every single stereotype those kids ever had about rich people. They were probably anti-motivated to go to college and get good jobs after meeting us, like, “I don’t want to do anything that might make me remotely like that.”

But anyway. The whole reason I’m telling this story is that, like, they took us all to the homeless shelter, and we were all dressed pretty much like Heidi Montag. Like in our little rich-middle-schooler tiny tops and tiny shorts and make-up caked on and Kate Spade purses in hand and they just paraded us into this inner-city shelter filled with homeless old men. Worst. Idea. Ever. I distinctly remember one of them looking me up and down and being like, “They didn’t make ‘em like that when I was 14,” and, at that moment, I realized that this whole trip had been terribly, terribly ill-conceived.

So I guess what I’m saying is that Heidi Montag looks like a trashy teenage wannabe slut.

“I’m honored to have Heidi’s support and I want to assure her that I never miss an episode of ‘The Hills,’ especially since the new season started.”

John McCain, in response to this.

Okay, you know what?

Mad, mad props to McCain for this.

Well-played, Mr. Senator. Well-played, indeed.

When some intrepid reporter actually used precious breath to ask Heidi Montag who she’s voting for, she responded: “I’m voting for John McCain … I’m a Republican and McCain has a lot of experience.” I guess, at that point, Spencer said something to admonish her about talking politics in interviews, and she responded, “I don’t think anyone cares who Heidi Montag votes for,” which is pretty much the smartest thing she’s ever said in her whole life.

This whole exchange raises a very important question, and I’m sure it’s on all of your minds right now: Heidi Montag is old enough to vote?

Heidi debuted her new single, “No More,” after The Hills aired on Monday night.

At first, I really liked the intro, and I was like, “Holy shit, is this thing actually going to be good?” I really wasn’t sure what I’d do with myself if it was.

Thankfully, though, once Heidi starts singing, the whole thing’s atrocious. I mean really, really bad. It’s amateurish and simplistic and the vocals are basically synthesized and the lyrics sound like they came straight from the history notebook of a heartbroken 8th-grader.

Listen for yourself here.

Just give this up, Heidi. It’s not working.

Heidi had an opportunity to talk to Us Weekly about the new fashion line she’s designing, but opted to use the time instead to bash Lauren Conrad.

“Lauren’s line is not necessarily something I would wear,” she says. “She’s trying a high-fashion thing, but it’s a little overpriced. Mine is fun and flirty for the everyday woman. Most people can’t afford $200 for one dress … When we were in school, I was the designer, and she was in, like, product development.”

When you were in school?

Heidi, you were at FIDM for, like, all of two weeks. You didn’t even make it through one semester before you quit to answer phones for Brent Bolthouse. So let’s not go bragging about that focused design education you received, okay, dear?

Also: shut the fuck up, Heidi.