Back in 1999, in the last 2 thankful months of my ten year stint at a dead end job, I began dating a co-worker. It was one of those blissful affairs, not really grounded in reality. Regardless, I was quite smitten and willfully disregarded friends' warnings of "shitting in your own backyard". Sparing all the details, it ended with a simple email exchange. The gist of my original email was to cut me loose (as there was this weeklong period of suspension). I vaguely recall wording something to the effect of "If you just don't want to do this anymore, please tell me so I can get on with my life". Her response? Look up. The stomach punch of that barren white message bodyon my CRT screen was more painful than the one I received in my one and only street hockey beatdown. (Dave Young, you were tough. But this hurt WAY more.) In the months it took to recover from the breakup, I printed it out as a testament to female cruelty. I would show it to my own sons, should I produce any, as a cautionary tale. I since discarded it: Though it causes me no more pain, I will never forget it. I now have this song (which was subsequently added to the Burn Like Nero repertoire) to remind me. You can find the full eH Factor catalog here: http://www.ehfactor.com (Flash site).