Damn you, Bill Simmons,

You’ve been my man-crush for the last few years.

When I accepted this seven-figure deal from Fourth and Fifty, I even took a pseudonym that would show my man-love in a creepy, Single White Female way.

I didn’t make it up, but I took it, even though it is dumb as s---. Just for you.

[Ed. Note - Your "manager" made up the pen-name for you.  I accept no blame.]

But you’ve gone too far. I was oksy when you started dabbling with podcasts. I figured it was “a college thing,” and you needed to spread your wings. But all of those sleepless nights, waiting for you to post an actual column?  It’s just been too much.

You haven’t called, you haven’t written (except for The Mag). It’s been two weeks and nothing but those damn podcasts! Face it—you’re addicted to the ease of talking to your friends and calling it a day instead of putting time into our relationship—errrrrrr...your columns.

Life isn’t easy, Bill Simmons! This can’t be a one-way street! And don’t blame it on your damn book. I read your last book and you know what it was? A collection of old articles! Your “new content” was limited to musings about how you feel about what you wrote! Which I read cover to cover.

That’s it. My man-crush on you is over. Don’t come back. Don’t try any mop tactics. I’m moving on. I’m even changing my name so I don’t have to think about you every time I blog. “Blog.” Even that word is dead to me now.

From now on, please refer to me as “DJ Abraham Lincoln.” THE Random Guy is dead, much like your heart.

To everyone else, DJ Abraham Lincoln is now accepting applications for a new man-crush. Let me tell you a little bit about myself: I’m a Scorpio, I enjoy long walks on the beach, and I think I’m morally superior to everyone else. I think this because I am morally superior to everyone else. And what’s most importantly is, I really don’t like sports that much. [Ed. Note - How DARE you!!]

Don’t get me wrong—I like the “idea” of sports. I love me some NBA TV. I’ll sit through an entire day of the NFL draft. I’ll even do some fantasy. But watching actual sports is generally boring. I only watch the Texans and Rockets, and occasionally Coogs And if I miss a game or five? No big deal. I’m a renaissance man, as long as that means playing video games, painting miniatures, riding my high horse, and watching sports occasionally.

So for the two people who will read this, please feel free to suggest man-crush candidates in the comments section. And don’t suggest any douches like Rick Reilly—when journalists make themselves the story, they invite at least parody and at worst excommunication. Hopefully the latter. Hey ESPN, here is a suggestion. Instead of giving Rick Reilly a vault full of gold coins to swim around in like Scrooge McDuck, why don’t you give him an ultimatum that he can’t use the first person in any article for a year?

Back to the point. The International Federation for Man-Crushes will carefully review each suggestion and pare it down to a list of three, assuming that there are three. I will make the final decision.  Early front-runners are Shane Battier (but I need more flash), Anderson Silva (maybe too good), and NBA TV’s Rick Kamla. Aaron Brooks would have been in the mix if not for the Petsmart incident. The Federation is willing to accept quasi-sports figures or even fictitious figures like the UnderArmour guy who protects this house.

Sincerely,

DJ Abraham Lincoln

[Ed. Note - This post was submitted before Bill Simmons posted an epic 2-part mailbag on ESPN.com.  Now the THE Random Guy is wavering like a teenage girl whose cheating boyfriend wants her back.  Please.  PLEASE!  Submit candidates for a new literary-man-crush.  We need to show THE Random Guy that there are more fish in the sea.]

[Photo from the 2006 Webby Awards]