She is woman, and she is real.

Many choose to doubt the existence of my beautiful lady friend, Karen Mackenzie-L'Amour-Gretzky. These cynics and haters would have you believe that the entire life of a beautiful Torontonian princess is nothing but a lie. Well, quite frankly, I am outraged, sirs, and these injustices will not stand.

First of all, she's got three last names. Anybody who knows me knows that I'm a lazy writer; why would I go through the trouble of coming up with three separate perfectly authentic Canadian surnames for her? I simply wouldn't. I couldn't. And I didn't, because those are her three last names, jerks.

Certain TGS writers like to harp on the fact that I sometimes don't speak to her for weeks. While this is true, it's only because she's on assignment in Canada and neither of us have land lines or international cell phones.

And no, we've never been in the same room. I met Ms. Mackenzie-L'Amour-Gretzky on CompuServe, and as a mother of three growing tots, she hasn't really had a schedule that allows for visits to New York. I can't visit her because she only has a single bed, and her twins' cribs are in the room with her. Also, she's concerned about me getting bedbugs and doesn't want me staying in mite-friendly Canadian hotels. I'm thinking of getting some money together and renting a place up in Ottawa, but I don't know, the upkeep on that sort of thing must be a bummer.

But ultimately, you need look no further than in my heart to discover that Karen is real. But in order to hush all the doubters, I will update this space with evidence as it piles up. Get ready to eat your words, Frank, Toofer, Liz, and Writers Who Never Talk. You can't handle the truth.