The cat’s out of the bag on this one. “Secret Diary of a Call Girl” blows hard, probably more than one way.

It takes a concerted effort to make the subject of paying for sex seem boring. I mean, even if you deplore the idea of people paying or getting paid for sex, at least there is some form of emotion or excitement involved.

But this new show is so bad I doubt even the most fevered of moralists would be able to stay awake through one episode to build up enough pissed-off indignation to shoot e-mails and call in to radio talk shows.

Granted, a 30-something male from Texas who loves “Star Wars,” comic books and Chinese candy is nowhere near the target audience for this new show beginning June 16 on Showtime. Funny, neither was “The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants,” but I was able to enjoy it. I was even forced to watch episodes of “Sex and the City” during my wife’s recovery from gall bladder surgery.

You know, it did not suck as bad as I thought it would. But “Secret Diary of a Call Girl?” Major load.

It’s about a “contemporary woman” living in London who gets paid for screwing. Oh, sorry, she’s a “high end call girl” who is proud and loves her life and job. I guess that’s plausible enough. So why is it so bad?

Morality aside, because there are better shows where one might question the morality of their themes, but “Secret Diary of a Call Girl” is straight-up dull. Nothing is worse than having sex with someone who lies there and does nothing, and that is what watching this show is like. It just lies there.

Like most things coming from good old London, this show seeps with pretentiousness and nihilistic goop.

Speaking of goop: Due to the nature of the programs, some might draw parallels between this and “SATC.” But that would be a surface judgment because the only connections between the two are big cities and vaginas.

Unlike “Sex and the City,” “Secret Diary of a Call Girl” is void of story and character development. Then again, to be fair, at least this new show’s characters do not look like chewed-up pieces of beef jerky dipped in makeup.

But, then again (again), I’d rather have beef jerky than be bored.