Mr. I Habitant. "Hab" to his friends, and, more importantly, to his division rivals. The guy who up until about a few days ago was in the playoffs. I knew it was him the moment I saw the letter. I start to remember things now: His stupid clothing, his music -- Latin, Bulgarian, whatever f**king world music was trendy that week--stupid laugh, awful cooking smells. I can't remember anything good about him at all. I never liked him much then, and I f**king hate him now...