So we were sitting there around 10:30 last night, more or less hating ourselves for just having spent a half-hour of our life watching Entourage. Had it always been this obnoxious? Did we just earlier not notice because we needed the comedown from The Sopranos, needed a half-hour of self-impressed vacuousness in which we could decompress? Or was it newly, differently bad lately, specifically last night? Good thing, then, we've got Vulture and its Entourage Guilt/Pleasure Index. Adam Sternbergh examines last night's installment — including, as he points out, the most unpleasant mental image ever conjured by a television show — and declares the episode almost entirely guilty. Good to know it's not just us.