This column serves as a notice to all those girls who wanted me when I had a girlfriend. That’s right, I said when ! After four years, I’ve officially been "let go," and while this should be a sad thing, I can’t help but see it as glaring opportunity for me...and for all you luscious vixens with a craving for some Bradley.

Jen, remember when I was with my old girlfriend and you told me that you’d totally hook up with me but were sure my girlfriend, I mean, my "ex," would beat you up because she had a black belt in Ninjitsu? We’ll have no fear because if she touches you, after we touch each other, I’ll go Ninja Turtle on her ass with a bo, two katana blades, a pair of sai and one end of some nunchucks...and I don’t care what her restraining order against me says.

Karen, remember when you confessed that you could tell me anything because you felt so free and unthreatened by me. Remember how we’d hang out till early in the morning singing the Children’s Aid Society jingle and how close we came to hooking up but didn’t because of what’s-her-name? Well baby...its time you got some charity from the Snuggle King.

I’m sorry if being this forward makes me sound like a horny frat boy, I know I’m not in college anymore. Of course...I did spend my years in the fraternity house staying sober and being responsible because somebody (cough, cough) encouraged me to be the president of the can you blame me for being excited to go a little crazy?

Darleen, during Green Eggs & Kegs IV, junior year, you told me how you had a crush on me and wanted me since freshman orientation. Now, at that time I told you I didn’t think of you like that and sent you off crying, but I know some of those old feelings are still spite of your new boyfriend...who you’re engaged to...right? Aren’t I what you were waiting for, before you settled for your future husband?

In 2-3 months I can personally guarantee to all you lovely ladies that these extra pounds I’ve put on over the last few years will be shed off and my track-star physic will be back in prime condition. I can’t promise all my hair will be back, but "you-know-who" used to say I was a "cute-bald," not that I care what she thinks. Not having around to cook me breakfasts in bed and prepare dinners for me is going to be the healthiest thing for me, ever.

As a side-note, I want to tell all my old college buddies that whenever you guys want to hang out, I’m down to order a few everything-pizzas, drink like madmen and watch the Gumby DVD box set. (Jake, I know that shortly after graduation you developed that acid-reflex condition, so if you want get together and order a salad or some toast, that’d be cool too. Also, I understand that the rest of you won’t have time to hang out until you graduate law school, in 2005, but "no worries," rush...I’ll be waiting...alone.

Melissa, are you still a huge Ryan Phillippe fan? If you are, maybe its time I bulked up the Ryan Phillippe section of my DVD collection. Come over this Saturday after work, if you’re in New York, and we can make a triple-header out of Cruel Intentions and AntiTrust.

Also, my darling Lori, don’t think that my mentioning you all the way down in this column has anything to do with those nasty and completely humorless remarks I made sophomore year. It was wrong of me to say you’d be a great model for "the before picture in an acne brochure," or that, "you have the kind of face no one would mind throwing darts at." Think of your positioning on this list as "saving the best for last."

I’ve been tied up for the last few years, and while I could mean that literally, (because me and "So-So in Bed" did a lot of adventurous things) in the context of this column I mean it figuratively. I’ve wanted to get out for so long, and if you don’t believe me, ask my best friend Sara. I told her almost 2 years ago that the shrine I built in my room to "hope-she-sits-on-a-hot-iron" was mostly for show. (P.S. Sara, if the shrine sketched you out, please disregard that drunken message I left on your voice-mail the other night. If it didn’t sketch you out though, call me.)

So if you’re a single lady, or even if you’re not ( wink, wink ) and your present boyfriend is shorter and less physically fit than I am, I highly suggest you take advantage of this limited-time offer. There isn’t enough me for everybody and supplies, while replenishable every 15-40 minutes, are going fast. Act now for a chance to make whoopee with the slammy jam-jammiest Playboy this side of the East River.

AUTHORS NOTE: During the week it took me to write and edit the above column, my relationship with the most wonderful girl in the world was rekindled. I can only say that the kind hand of god must have played a part in convincing my true love to forgive me. I’d like to thank all the girls previously mentioned for having the foresight to know that my princess and I were predestined to get back together and thus, didn’t call or try to contact me in anyway. Personally I’ve learned never to make fun of Sex in the City, ever again, because it’s the best show on Earth and I love it, almost as much as my terrific girlfriend (just kidding, kiss-kiss, nothing could be that good) and for the "dart’s at your face" line, was hysterical.