The first email I received said only two words – HOLY SHIT! – and it only got more entertaining from there:

• May the Joy of Christmas not piss on you any more than it already has.

• Seven years is pretty good by today's standards...especially in SoCal.

• Some of us have even more pathetic lives where reading about someone else’s life is a highlight of the day.

• Who knows, maybe Troy will grow tired of that baby factory and want a new wife that can actually chase him around the track!

• The Haagen Dazs/Match.com stage is all part of the healing process.

• Are you available for a long distance relationship with a slightly over weight, middle aged, hamster hung man?

• At risk of raising a sore subject, what's Chris going to do with that new Z on his chest? Sort of narrows the pool of candidates for future love interests, I would guess.

• Not that I'm trying to make a buck off of your unfortunate situation, but does the new/old last name mean that your signature on my helmet will be more or less valuable?

• He'll be absolutely miserable. Meanwhile, you'll be stuck in a love triangle with the Bostrom brothers, with occasional visits from Nicky Hayden.

• I send your way: a virtual pack of the best hot chocolate mix, virtual teddy bear in racing suit, and virtual *not weird in the way that I’ve never really met you* hug.

• So buck up, and most of all, drink up. As my immature friends back in high school used to advise: take a drink; be somebody.

• My life is full of trials too. I had a tangerine flavored Diet Rite explode in the freezer. Since you bared your soul, I must confess that this happened a week ago and I still haven't properly cleaned it.

• Feel free to come to Florida anytime. All the men here are either lame or gay. It's perfect.