Every year the BCU staff celebrates two major literary holidays. Of course I am speaking of the releases of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition and it’s counterpart, Maxim’s Hot 100 List. We sit around the conference table by candlelight, sipping tea and exclaiming triumphantly with each turn of a page.

Until this year.

Sports Illustrated did a fine job holding up its end of the deal, showing us incredible shots of Brooklyn Decker, Bar Rafaeli, and countless other beach bombshells in barely-there suits, which explains why that magazine is still floating around here somewhere, crumpled and dog-eared into oblivion.

The Maxim Hot 100 List Issue, on the other hand, was a grade-F, moldy bread disappointing. It was a disappointment worse than the midnight viewing of the Watchmen,  and even worse than Jimmy Dean’s Chocolate Pancake Covered Sausage.

First off- Maxim selected KATY PERRY as the number one hottest girl.. KATY PERRY, MAXIM? How can you choose someone who, while by all means being very good looking and all, looks EXACTLY like a less hot version of Zooey Deschanel?

But this isn’t where my disappointment ends. Guess who wasn’t deemed “hot” enough for Maxim’s top 100? Mad Men’s Christina Hendricks. The redheaded phenom with a rack that is unparalleled in today’s itsy-bitsy-pre-pubescent body craze. Also excluded was Slumdog Millionaire’s incredibly gorgeous star Freida Pinto.

Somehow, though, Kelly Ripa got on the list.

Kelly. Ripa.

What is this world coming to?