Looks like Emily has gotten her $200 designer knickers in a twist. Don't know what she's got to be so pissy about. Judging by some of the things she's said about me to the other Cotillion girls, she oughta be ashamed. But she's got it in her head that I'm all jealous of her fabulousness. Really chicky, get over yourself. You're a groupie from Detroit who has suddenly gone pious. Prior to 2000, the only ones who ever heard you say the words "OH God" were the roadies from your brother's band. So really - we're not all that different, are we?

In case you're wondering, the love affair is over between me & the Princess. I got an email last week from a reader who has been in contact with her via messenger. Just to give you an idea of what a sincere gal she is - her grandfather is alive and well. I suppose that's a good thing. But Em and I were supposed to get together a few months ago - I even rented her a hotel room here in Toronto - and she calls me up at the last minute with a sob story about how her grandfather died. I should have taken a hint. Old Pops is fine, thankyouverymuch, and she apparently had dinner with him last Sunday. So she's a liar. I emailed her, and called her to the mat over it. I was hurt. Maybe I said some things. But who friggin lies and tells you someone is dead?

Oh, and Beth? Thanks. At least I know who my real friends are.