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Call Jon Gosselin a douchebag if you want, and let’s face it, it’s not that hard to do, but what do you expect? He was married to a raging, emasculating cunt who had more babies jump out of her than Mexicans in a Honda Civic at a traffic stop. He could either cheat or blow his fucking brains out. So, he did what any normal guy would do. He went to the Wet Republic ultra pool and chatted up a bunch of Vegas whores. A bunch of fugly Vegas whores, but at least they aren’t wearing Keds and bitching about a Home Depot receipt.