I’m in love with the RIAA’s Hilary Rosen.

I swear, that little record label queen drives me nuts! When the RIAA sued over the Diamond Rio, I thought I was merely infatuated with her. When they went after MP3.com, I assumed that my attraction to her was strictly hormonal in nature. But now that she’s won her hard-fought injunction against Napster, I know that we were destined for each other. I mean, why should Lars have all the fun?

Is there any doubt that Hilary is the most exciting, vivacious, downright sexually breathtaking lady to ever launch a copyright infringement lawsuit? Just being in the same room with the woman who represents the interests of the record labels that have Reel Big Fish and Our Lady Peace under ironclad contracts must be excruciatingly exquisite in sexual tension.

I have this fantasy. We’ll get a little place outside the Beltway. One day she’ll come home from a hard day at the office protecting the copyrights of ‘N Sync, MxPx and Midtown, and she’ll find me downloading freebies, like Matthew Good Band and Joe Jackson, off of the Net. She’ll grab me by the collar, pull my face up to hers and say, “You’ve been a bad, bad boy.”

“Yes!” I’ll answer. “Oh, my darling, yes!”

Then she’ll yank my pants down and put me over her knee.

“That’s for Yngwie Malmsteen.”


“And Superdrag and Chad Brock!”

Spank! Spank!

“And John Anderson, The Neville Brothers and Bruce Hornsby!”

Spank! Spank! Spank!

And then she’ll sue me. God, I can hardly wait.

Our love affair will know no bounds. We’ll be the hottest couple in history. Bigger than Bogie and Bacall, more illicit than Bill and Monica, sexier than Trump and… and, well, whoever he’s with. It will be glorious.

In fact, you might even say our romance will be one for the records.