Ok, Maxim. You talked, I listened. When you called me the Unsexiest Woman Alive, I went out and did something about it. The customer's always right, even if my real customers are schlumpy single women who have two cats and every album Carole King ever made.

It wasn't enough that I got a nose job. No--you wanted perfection. You can't deal with a real woman--one with a discount clothing line in bankruptcy.

So I did it. I went out and had my facial mole removed. I'm going to mail it to you. If you put it in a Petri dish with some water and a dash of amino acids it will someday grow into something as beautiful and talented as me.

Are you happy now? I'm good enough for Matthew Broderick (28th on VH1's list of 100 Greatest Teen Stars). I ought to be good enough for your target demographic -- single guys with Ali G boxed DVD sets who prefer to read your rag in the bathroom for some reason.

No Sex in the City for them is what I'm guessing.