Tell me about the rabbits, Trista

from the desk of Kitty Winn

Dear Kitty Winn, prescription

A few months ago I slugged it out with a few dozen other girls on a popular TV show. I won the affections of a lunkish Midwestern kinda guy. Everything was really dreamy for a few weeks, but then he looked at another girl in a bar! I did what any self-respecting person with crazy eyes would do and hucked the engagement ring at his head! I mean, I’m his fiancée! That alone should demand he pluck out his offending eye. We had a connection! And he didn’t see it that way. I like the idea of making a guy get down on his knees to re-propose every few days. I think guys like that too, it makes them feel like they have a special job to do. But then he just got all weird on me and wouldn’t spend the holidays with me. What’s with that, I’m his fiancée! And then he didn’t love me anymore. But I’m his fiancée! I have a ring! Should I keep it, Kitty? I won it fair and square.

-hella crazy

Dear Helene,

If I had one of those automagical Tivos, I would have zapped right past you, because you scare me so much. But I needed to see Trista lead Ryan around like a trusty St. Bernard. Yes, you do have crazy eyes. But Ryan seems to be on some serious veterinary tranks. Is he slightly retarded? Or is it just that rocky mountain high. At any rate, I hope Trista doesn’t let him pet her pretty hair too long. He’s got big strong hands.

Stay away from me,


P.S. Sure, keep the precious, go right ahead! Fine by me!

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