The 800-Pound Gorilla

OK, there's no pretending it didn't happen. It did happen. I did it. I'm not exactly sorry for what I did, but I am sorry for the way my words have been perceived by some. In the past 24-hours I've received an e-mail from a member of the national press and a personal phone call from the McGreevey administration admonishing me for yesterday's post.

I want to make perfectly clear: The Rabbit and I have never, to best of our collective knowledge, met. This seems odd in that we've probably attended more than a couple of the same weddings, hold dear at least a dozen friends in common and I've known her name for years. But the fact is I wouldn't recognize her if she were sitting on my couch. I would also like to say that I have never heard a single one of these common freinds give her anything less than a stone rave as a person.


Finally, I would like to point out:

That while I was clearly a man on the edge of a psychotic break, I admitted twice that the dog angle was what really got to me in light of a disastrous four-year "romance" (Judges, can I get a ruling on this? Is that the right word?) in my past.

I encouraged her to avoid me.

I invited her to share my love of "Gilmore Girls."

I encouraged her to think better of herself. Lucy was a bitch, andf if the Rabbit is half as cool as our mutual friends claim, she shouldn't lump herself in with that bitter spinster-in-the-making (note: hugely differently from "happily single"), football-snatching-away jerk.

I was so knocked out by the term "fuckmunch" that I'm probably gonna drop it on some poor unsuspecting soul's ass tonight.

And I wrote a haiku for her.


Anyway, Rabbit, I hope we're cool,
SR

Update: Oh, yeah, one more thing, if you look at the links, she's been listed under "Cooler Than You" since before the unpleasentness.