Pardon Me While I Gush Ms. Strasser, I stumbled upon your page by accident and while I envy not your celebrity or your awards, I would gleefully skin an infant for your wit. Each of your essays contains at least one brilliant line that provokes a bout of hilarity so severe it risks failure of the central nervous system. The one about spam emailers being paid by the exclamation mark caused a spasm somewhere deep within my ribcage that is only now beginning to subside. But then, when I think I've got you pegged -- a funslinger for hire, a skilled practitioner of the acerbic arts --  you crack my sternum with an unflinchingly honest, point-on observation of the inner life. It's like being tickled to exhaustion with a ball peen hammer. (Actually, it's nothing like that but I enjoy the image.) Your formidable writing chops are eclipsed only by your bravery.  I get twinges of paranoia when the cashier at Best Buy asks for my zip code; you bulldog your demons in full view of every peg- toothed slackjaw with a computer and a phone jack. You are a mighty, mighty talent. While I do not doubt you will soon be a box- office dynamo in addition to being a television icon, I hope you will continue to write. A freshly minted Strassernista, Mike Home Syndicated Column News Archive Good Day New York While You Were Out Lovers Lounge Fashion Police Photo Gallery Video Gallery Mailing List Books and Music Resume