“Top Chef” returned to Bravo to kick off it seventh season last night, and it’ll have to be awfully good to be exceed Season 6, even though Kevin totally got hosed. But there’s already a lot to like about the new season:

1. The first person kicked off was some disgusting hippie with dredlocks down to his ass. You see that, white people with dreds? EVERYONE HATES YOUR UNHYGIENIC FILTHY IDIOT HAIR.
2. Host Padma Lakshmi is still enjoying the bounties of recent motherhood. If you know what I’m saying. I mean she really fills out a dress. She just has a certain glow about her… tits.
3. Useless catchphrase-spewing twat Toby Young has been replaced by actual chef Eric Ripert. But forget Ripert’s qualifications: you could put a Golden Retriever in a space suit and it would provide better commentary than the malignant Young, a man so bad at everything he does that the only reason he’s had any success at all is that he recognizes how loathsome he is. Die in a fire, Toby.
4. Former “Bachelor” Andrew Baldwin said this as an insult to someone’s food: “I wouldn’t serve that to my kids.” As if his children are barn animals he keeps in a pen outside. God, I hope that’s true. That would be awesome.

But the main point was #2. Yowza. I think Padma’s breasts are why this season is in D.C. — she’s spending a lot of time at the Department of the Interior, getting those protected as a national monument. I imagine there’s a lot of paperwork to get through.

Unless you watch “Top Chef,” you probably don’t know who Toby Young is.  Aside from playing the dickhead British judge on that show, he also wrote the atrocious memoir How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, an account of how great he is at being a complete douchebag.  Oh, and he wrote this after the election:

Americans deserve approximately half the praise they’ve been heaping on themselves because, after all, Obama is half-African-American.

So I’m kinda having a hard time working up the sympathy to feel bad about him getting hit by a car while riding his bike without a helmet in London.  As Vince said to me, “I suppose this is my fault for wishing for this so hard.”

[Gawker]