Here is an official response, approved by Eric Schaeffer, author of I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M STILL SINGLE: Regarding the Gawker.com post "Did Judith Regan Intercourse With Eric Schaeffer?", the answer is no. Eric Schaeffer appeared on Judith Regan's television show a couple of years ago and almost signed a book deal with her. While he is fond of her and finds her very sexy, he never had anything other than a professional relationship with her. The blowjob came from another publishing house.

We went on a second date, and she said, "I want to have a baby in a year and a half," and I said I don't want to have babies for five years. I risked that deal going away. And so I said, "I guess we can't date." And the book deal went away. Surprise, surprise.

The Barnes & Noble was packed, and not everyone there was a friend or relative of Eric's. "I think I only know about half of you!" he exclaimed on arrival. He shuffled up to the lectern, sweaty and red-faced in a plain white t-shirt. "We're just going to hang for five minutes, give some bridge and tunnel people time to get here," he explained, then quasiapologized, "I hate making people wait."

My fellow audience members took the opportunity to chat while they waited. The largish ladies to my right were discussing a recent outing to DSW, but I was more interested in the couple to my left. For starters, they were a couple. Was this like a date for them, I wondered? "Well, we've been married for a while, but I guess it still counts as a date," said the 30ish man half of the couple, who was very redolent of cigarette smoke. "Actually, Eric's movie Fall was one of our first dates. We've been fans ever since."

"So do you just like his movies, or have you read his blog?" I asked. The man hadn't, but his wife had: "No, I don't think he's creepy. I think he's just being honest." Unfortunately, the beginning of the reading precluded my getting to know those crazy (really! crazy!) kids any better.

Highlights of the reading:

"I like Jewish women. They're smart, attractive, and straightforward."

A bit about how he thought a rural, overweight woman would be overcome with joy that a "semi-cute, marginally-famous New Yorker" had viewed her Nerve profile.

A bit about his love of America's Next Top Model (Noooo!) which, he explained, is an outgrowth of men's primordial desire to "bash a woman on the head and drag her back to his cave."

It is not.

Eric wanted to make the reading "fun" for us, so he gave us a choice: After he'd read two chapters from his book, one about his fear of herpes and another about his quest to become #1 on Nerve, he asked for a show of hands as to who wanted more stories and who wanted a Q&A. I was the only person who raised my hand for a Q&A, and was thanked by Eric for my honesty. I sneaked out seconds later. I had personally interacted with Eric Schaeffer, and I was going to have to live with that forever.

Earlier: Eric Schaeffer

On how it all began:

All kids who are 6 are rubbing it somewhere. If you as a parent don't think yours are, you are in abject denial.
But actual sex with family members is a big leap from rubbing it somewhere.
You mean actually sticking it in for two seconds and having her run and tell her mother that this isn't a good game anymore?
Whoa, that's a whole other level...
We were both 6, so it wasn't like that. We played Mommy and Daddy. We were both kissing. And then it got stuck in and then ... you know, I fucked my little guy friends when I was 6!
I read that you peed on your guy friends at 6, but did you have sex with them too?
Yes.
Were you the top?
I was both top and bottom. These were friends! We would crawl under the covers and play bat cave and somehow a dick would end up in someone's ass. [Laughter]

Women tend to do this thing — white women, not black women. But white women do this thing where they'll clearly be sending all these vibes and then when you approach them they'll look at you like they never fucking heard of you. That's frustrating and makes me feel like an asshole. Because I'm not wrong. They weren't looking at the clock over my head. They were sending vibes.

A narcissist is a person with an out-of-control ego with an inferiority complex. I'm certainly not the first — only self-regard at the expense of everyone else. I don't know what your experience of me for the last few hours is, but ... do I seem like that? Like I'm just trying to blow smoke up your ass because you're writing an article about me? "Self-absorbed" might be the term, though I don't like it, that I'm more willing to claim.
Self-absorbed is a lot closer to how I think of a narcissist — someone for whom everything is in some way a reflection of themselves, the kind of person whose every act of kindness is actually a moment at which to think of themselves in a good light.
I don't think anyone else in the world thinks that's what narcissism is.

Earlier: Gawker's Coverage of Eric Schaeffer

So then we got a couple emails from friends asking us if we were okay about this "Eric Schaeffer thing." We really had no clue why people were reacting so strongly to the "Eric Schaeffer thing" was but we deduced from these emails that posting excerpts from his loony ramblings had created this 10,000 percent increase in our fans. We were so grateful and excited that Eric Schaeffer had made it so easy for us to get so much mileage out of such chip-shot posts. We didn't really have time to put a ton of effort into them, you know, because we only ever have about twenty minutes to work on anything, but honestly, with someone like Eric Schaeffer, a long blockquote of his own writing is a better example of what's wrong with him than any kind of analysis on our part could ever be. Besides, people will still be reading Gawker long after the small, sad, scared failed screenwriters who spew hate because they can't get laid except by their fellow scary Nerve personals users either for lack of talent or gumption, have been forgotten; not that Eric Schaeffer is among this crowd, you know, we're just sayin... So we just went on about our day enjoying the nice feeling that some stranger had performed this mitzvoth on our behalf.

For a week our website kept climbing and climbing. Amazing letters were pouring in from all the women who have ever been completely skeeved by their dates with Eric Schaeffer. It was amazing. Day after day.

Thank you Eric Schaeffer. We love you. Man, how great. So we went to Eric's blog today to find out how he felt about our writing about him. Apparently he felt too hurt to contact us personally and had written on his blog to share some of his pain.

Guys, we were sooooooooooooo disappointed. We know that Eric Schaeffer is trying his hardest to be interesting, funny, smart — he certainly states often enough that he is! — but he is none of those things. He was trying his best to be snarky and mean but he was so banal and sophomoric and uncreative about it it made us embarrassed for him. We mean the biggest reviewers in the world writing for the most important papers in the world have taken their best shots at Gawker over the years, and while misguided and like all hate gossip obvious declarations of their own self hate, at least they were well written. Eric's vindictive rant was just so, seventh grade... but then we realized, he must actually be some kind of seventh grade school paper that a school put up on the internet. So these people writing, and the readers writing in were actually little seventh graders — after all, we've established that Eric is a pedophile! — and then we weren't as disappointed. We mean, we'd hoped that they'd have better taste than to go for Eric, but maybe he offered them some really good candy.

And then it made sense why Eric had written an incredibly long rant on his blog, deciding it best to express his feelings in that forum, a seventh grade news letter, rather than express whatever feelings they had directly to us, you know, like an adult. He felt more comfortable in their element.

Although we weren't as disappointed in Eric now that we realized he could purposely misinterpret us and call us out for being homophobic, anti-gay children. That actually concerned us very much.

What he did make clear by writing a super long rant on his blog was that he is obsessed with us. And since we do want to help him be happy and free, we want to give him the gift of the truth straight from our mouth. We know it will make his day, so kind of like The Make A Wish Foundation granting gifts for emotionally and mentally handicapped kids, we thought we would clear up a few things for Eric, who can't get enough of us.

To keep it short and sweet. Eric, you doth protest too much. Just too fucking much huh? Like on and on and on and on protesting? Yeah, you really really really think we're anti-gay and sophomoric blah bede blah blah. Couldn't be that your feelings were hurt because we didn't like you, could it? Doh! Na. You just want to help the public to an informed opinion about just how much you weren't into Gawker.

Eric, we're sorry we don't like you. Really we are. We wish you had the grace and dignity and respect not to lie about your millions of fans worldwide, which, to some extent, you know you did.

But the most important thing at this juncture is that we forgive you all for all of your transgressions. And as proof, here's our olive branch, Eric. Just so you know we're sincere. We want to give you a really really serious gift in hopes that we can make up and better understand each other and in doing so, we can help make your life happier and freer.

What we're about to say is the deepest. It won't ever get any deeper. So take a deep breath. Sit down. Prepare. We didn't make it up. People have been offering it up since the beginning of time in different ways but it's always the same message. And we want to share it with you in a language you can understand.

For those of you who are already down with its premise, or even more so, down with it in your heart, (meaning all our faithful readers) it won't come as any surprise and you'll get chills. It's unavoidable. It's staring into the face of God (whatever that means to you as long as it's a loving and abundant conception. And for you atheists, you're not left out of this party either, not by a long shot, it's the secret to your euphoric experience here in this lifetime even though the earthly experience is the be all and end all for you. The effects are equally as beautiful.)

It's a motherfucker. It's gonna fuck your shit up big time.

Ready? Really ready? Here it is.

We are you.

OH SHIT!!!! THAT'S RIGHT!! NO WAY!!!!

We... are... you.

In every way. All the time. Without fail.

Anything you think, feel, say about us... is how you think, feel and speak about yourself. I know it's a little confusing so let us break it down and make it reeeeeeeeeeeeally simple.

If you were to say, something like, oh I don't know, "Gawker is anti-gay" What you're really saying is, "I'm anti-gay."

If you were to saying something like, "Gawker editors are small, sad, scared writers who spew hate because they can't get a job either for lack of talent or gumption" What you're really saying is "I'm a small, sad, scared writer who spews hate because I can't get a job either for lack of talent or gumption."

Ahhh yes, now you're catching on... I knew you would. Yeah, it's a bitch isn't it.

Namaste,

Gawker

The Cool Kids [I Can't Believe I'm Still Single]

Earlier: Eric Schaeffer Gets A Taste of His Own Meds

I admit it, I'm insane. But after I saw his movie "Fall" in 1997, I was a little obsessed with him. I thought his craziness was kind of charming. And when I read his blog, none of it really surprised me. It all seemed sort of....earnest. I liked that there was actually a guy in New York City looking for a wife. I keep getting guys who want to cheat on their girlfriends with me.

Hey Sandi, no I wasn't just being nice. I would have been up for chatting or getting a coffee but I'm a recovering alcoholic for many years and the whole drinking thing is a dealbreaker for me. I'm glad you're taking steps to deal with it but if you've been "detoxing" on and off and are still a "light" drinker that sound sketchy to me, like you're still in denial about the role booze plays in your life. I may be wrong. Only you can know for sure, but I would suggest not drinking at all and checking out some AA meetings and see what you think. Namaste, e

Earlier:Eric Schaeffer Thinks You're Asking For It

Eric Schaeffer vets a date by feeling her out on the touchy subject of child-rape:

"So you're saying I'm not allowed to rape that," I said dryly but
since I'm not the Antichrist, obviously joking.
"I understand what you're saying. I mean, the hot pants, halter top,
and makeup do make her look thirty instead of thirteen," April said
with a breeziness that boded extremely well for our chances,
like-minded non-PC comic sensibilities being crucial . . . and a lack
of sexual abuse in her past.
"But no. You're not allowed to rape that."
She passed the test . . . Or had she? I needed to be sure, so I
burrowed softly.
"I mean, where's her father when she's getting into that outfit?" I
said with earnest condemnation.
"Dressing her in it. After he's raped her." She wasn't joking.
Serious trouble.

I mean we're men. We're wired to see a woman, smash her on the head
with a bone, drag her unconscious body back to our apartment by the
hair, and fuck her. I think you all should give us a break and, in
fact, a little credit. We have successfully bucked that arcane
evolutionary desire and have replaced it with the infinitely more
civilized hour of ANTM every week. I think we've come a long way baby.

I can't resist sending in my own "Eric" experience... I went to a uh, "dating event", with a girlfriend (okay, it was speed-dating... I had a boyfriend at the time, but a girl friend of mine pleaded for my support, so I gamely went along). He approached me before the event and said, "I know you... do you know how?" I'd never seen him before in my life, so I said no; do we go to the same gym or something? He then said he'd seen me at a certain downtown meeting (yes, I am 12-stepper too) and always thought I was "hot". He wanted me to leave with him and go have coffee; I explained that I'd promised to stay with my friend & maybe we'd chat after the event was over. Of course, he was first at my little table... we had to fill out a questionnaire & one question was "Why are you here?" with answers ranging from "For a laugh" to "I want to get married and have babies". Guess which answer Eric picked? Yep, marriage. Also, he'd lied about his age to get into this event, which required everyone be less than forty years old.

Anyway, he was kind of funny and intelligent, so we did end up checking each other's names off the list that told the organizers that they could share our e-mail addresses with any guys we liked. Eric e-mailed me immediately and we went back and forth a few days, doing a little more get to know you type conversation. The two things that made me end the correspondence were: he gave me a few compliments, then demanded I tell him something equally flattering about him because he needed to feel attractive too (I couldn't think of anything to say)... this struck me as very whiny and needy, qualities that I was not looking for in a man. The second thing he said that I found highly objectionable was when I asked him what he did all day (he said he was unemployed at the time)- he gave me a laundry list of activities, including prayer, yoga, meditation, and MAKING LOVE TO HIS HAND. I think that's when I "suddenly" realized I was much, much too busy to date (him) at that time. I was the recipient of several wounded stares when I saw him at meetings after that, but he did back off. I did meet the man who is now my husband shortly after that experience. Eric is still single, which is still a shock. That hand must be tired.

Earlier: Eric Schaeffer Relapse

He, honest-to-god, is unaware of how much bullshit he feeds to everyone and, most sadly, to himself. if he were aware, he would probably freak-out from the calorie content.

OK - so i choose to remain anonymous because i really have nothing against this guy. in fact, i still think highly of him as a writer and have nothing against him as a person. But, that said, yes, i dated him, yes, he's a Narcissistic (with a capital N - and please correct that spelling if i'm wrong, but he is not worth dictionary.com-ing) NUTJOB and i just think it's hilarious how much play he's gettiing on Gawker.

i also know how much time he spends surfing the web, probably reading each and every blurb about himself as he masturbates at 2 am while eating non-dairy chocolate. and hating himself for it. so, since i have nothing against him, i would rather he not feel hurt by yet another girl announcing from the cyber-rooftops that he is the nuttiest nutjob i've ever met who lives in the deepest depths of denial that i have ever visited (all of which i will testify to in court). he, honest-to-god, is unaware of how much bullshit he feeds to everyone and, most sadly, to himself. if he were aware, he would probably freak-out from the calorie content.

i have honestly never met a man who is so obsessed with himself, and yet, seems to spend all if his time HATING himself and adoring himself at once. i guess that's all wrapped up in the same nutjob issues that make him the entertaining weirdo he is today. thin line between love and hate, right?

i was reading your posts about him (a friend forwarded to me, despite the fact that i thought he was out of my life) and this one finally made me cave and write to you:

"We tried to resist, we really did. But much as we'd like to ignore this in the hopes that it'll go away, we can't help but heap scorn on it (even though that is exactly what it wants). Such is . . . our job. Anyway, meet Eric Schaeffer, a 5'8'' semi-failed screenwriter whose blog is the latest addition to the stable of the Rudius (ugh, we feel like we just said "Voldemort"!) blog empire of sickmaking, unfunny douchebaggery. He's looking for a woman to spend the rest of his life with, but he has some pretty stringent requirements: It's nothing personal. I LOVE everything about women as they get older. Women over 45 are divine. They've dropped all their shit and really sink into their bodies and beings but.... BUT unfortunately, babies are done."

Guess what his name is among me and my friends? VOLDEMORT. Which kind of makes me think, whoever wrote that, do i know you? He became so insane that we couldn't even say his name, then he became "he who shall not be named", then....well, you get it. He is now referred to as "V" in correspondence among my friends. and he basically said that "i love everything about women as they get older" thing to me verbatim. he recycles: women and words. the more i read about him, the more i realize how many women have had the exact same experience as me. we should start a freakin' support group like his beloved AA. (he's not as crazy about it as they say. he doesn't care if you have a glass of wine around him.)

Here's the one i haven't read about, though:

I am different of all these other fabulous gawker ladies in that, yes, i do believe he's a little gay (what 'straight' person isn't? come on, just a LITTLE) and won't admit it (but he does truly love women, i am sure), but, YES, i actually do find him attractive. In fact, i am a sucker for big baby blues on neurotic writer-types. go figure. i'm not proud. and he's 5'8". maybe 5' 71/2" but girls are being mean. let's judge him on what a NUT he is, not on his height, which is not his fault.

anyway, we met on nerve (a shameful period of my life that is now OVER), it was the same story as the other chicks. soon we were making out (like i said, i find him hot, don't judge me! and he is actually a fantastic kisser). we made out, got to what, first base? that's IT and before i know it he sits me down and says, "OK, now i need to have that talk," i just met this guy. yeah sure, i saw IF LUCY FELL, like 10 years ago with my mom, but WE JUST MET. "would you get an HIV test for me?" by the way, like the other girl said, he wanted a blow-job ASAP. yeah. no thanks. your dick is not the number one priority in my life. he does this to elle, in fact, in IF LUCY FELL.....(the HIV thing).

we KISSED. yeah we made out the first day we met (stop judging, gawker, we just made out. it was like high school and it was fun.) next thing i know he is planning the possibility of sex, babies, marriage and hey, if all MIGHT happen, then this chick better get tested. Thing is, he is extremely intelligent (all the most dangerous are) and he knows that he puts all his stresses and fears into HIV and being a hypochondriac. so it created this silly drama for half a hot minute. we had some fun. i realized what a nutball he is and decided that i would happily watch his movies and enjoy him from afar, but would recommend to Bloomberg that he quarantine the city from this guy. looks like from all the people who have had my experience on gawker, maybe we need a PSA warning fathers to keep their under 35 daughters away from him.

when it was over, he was very very concerned that i still like him and that i have 'good feelings' about knowing him. that man spends all his time doing things that make people not like him, then he gets upset if people don't like him.

anyway, chalk me up as yet another who can confirm his LOCO-ness, but also chalk me up as one girl out there who is willing to admit that he ain't so bad, he don't mean no harm, and he really is cute in a neurotic-NY-writer kinda way.

i laughed for days when a friend told me his BLOG was called "I can't believe I'm still single."

still laughing.

fuckin' hilarious.

poor schmuck.

something poignant about how pathetic he is, no?

jesus - look at the length of this email. we LOVE talking about this guy! i blame you, Gawker!

;o)
c.

PS - be fair. if you post this, don't just post the mean stuff, post that at least one person has some nice things to say about him. i'll repeat: polite, hygenic, fiercely intelligent, cute, embraces weirdness, non-judgemental. (you know, add that to all the freakish, narcissistic, gimme-a-break, treats women like baby-factories stuff....)