A Promise.

Dear Friends,

Recently there has been some concern about the amount of times a certain B. Vilanch has come up in conversations with, well, just about everyone I've come across over the last few years. Now, some people have accused me of being grossly obsessed, and some people (I'm looking at you, lawyers of the aforementioned B. Vilanch) have accused me of harrassment and stalking. It should never have come to this, but I feel I should make one thing clear:

I am not obsessed with Bruce Vilanch, nor am I stalking him.

There. I hope we're all satisfied now. When I was talking to you, Blake, and I went off on what you deemed "a crazy tangent that is a sure sign of mental illness" about what would happen if you fathered an alien version of Bruce Vilanch's child, whether you'd marry said alien, or dodge child support, I was merely posing a question of ethics. I could have mentioned anyone else, perhaps an alien resembling Charles Nelson Reilly, and it would have gone without such a remark. And when I spoke to you, dear Mother, and I mentioned wouldn't it be nice if we all had the soul and body of Bruce Vilanch, and how if he died I'd find a way to clone him, or make every effort to carry his legacy on, you spoke of disowning me, or at least taking me out of your will. Why? Why, I ask of you? How has Bruce Vilanch ever wronged you?

But nevertheless, the world is as it is, and I have been asked never to speak of Bruce Vilanch again. I have been asked by friends, family, colleagues, acquaintances, strangers, and the lawyers of Mr. Vilanch, and I shall respect this request from henceforth. This is one name you'll never hear escape my lips, or witness my pen write from hereafter. My apologies to those who feel I have scared them or wronged them.

Much Love,

Gregory S. Orme, Ph.D.