Who’s the pussy?

Received this e-mail a few moments ago …

To say I love this e-mail is to delve into the greatest of understatement. It features all the hallmarks of excellence. In no particular order …

• Irrational and inexplicable capitalization.

• “Friends” “in” “quotes.” Are they not my friends? Or “friends”?

• A whole lot of anger.

• Best of all—irony. I’m the pussy? R-e-a-l-l-y? I’m the pussy? My name was attached to the words I wrote. There are no less than, oh, seven identifiable ways to contact me. You know my name. You can get my bio on Wikipedia. My Facebook page is there. My Twitter page is there. But … I’m the pussy? Me? Jeff Pearlman? Not anonymous fuckyou@gmail.com loser?

What’s wrong, buddy? You too scared to put your name behind your words? Your feelings a little hurt? You afraid an unarmed 49-year-old writer is gonna beat you up?

Pathetic.

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