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Sometimes in the pursuit of a hearty chuckle a guest-editor-blogger goes a bit over the line, making a joke at the expense of a defenseless person who, no matter how frequent and frightening her e-mails are, has feelings and emotions just like the rest of us. It doesn't happen often but, when it does, it's time for that guest-editor-blogger to stand up and say, I'm sorry.

If that happens during the week that I'm here, I promise to do that.

In the meantime, more mail from Nikki Finke. In the interests of ending this feud in its tracks (I don't want my tenure at Gawker to be remembered for an ongoing altercation with an element so unstable that they haven't yet assigned it a place on the Periodic Table. Dammit, I was here when the lights went on at Radar!) I'm going to reprint her corrections (after the jump) as I received them and step away from this fight. Which is a shame, because shower people sort of turn me on. Anyway, that's that. I will Finke no more forever. It's Coen's job now. AB
[Thanks a lot, twat. —JC]

From: Nikki Finke
To: tips@gawker.com
Date: Wed, 11 May 2005 14:41:53 EDT
Subject: WHAT? here are all your errors, and please print my correction:

— I've never written a note of apology for anything I've ever written. Not on stationery or by email or even phone. Also, I ran out of personal stationery something like 10 years ago.

— I hate Chardonnay. In fact, I dislike all alcohol, both the taste and its effect (the latter because I am an insulin-dependent diabetic). I don't do drugs either. Sorry to burst these peoples' fantasies about me, but I'm ridiculously square. What in the world are they on?

— I hate baths. I'm a total shower person.

What's next? Boxers vs briefs?