If you like what you've read here at yourhub.com, let me be the first to say, "Thank you. I think you're swell. Can I buy you a doughnut?"

If you've taken something you've ever read of someone else's to make your own or were considering doing this, let's take this moment and have a quick visit. Mmkay?

I experienced a bright orange Christina Aguilera fake tan shocker last night. While executing a yahoo search, I found an entire paragraph I'd written at yourhub.com on a site I didn't immediately recognize. Thinking it was one of those mirror sites which uses content for advertising, I clicked the link, expecting to see a yourhub post, along with the usual mirrored content. What I found, instead, was, verbatim, something I had written posted at someone else's blog on myspace.com.

There was no mention of me as the author, and no apropos pictures of me looking like Angelina Jolie. That's two strikes. Three strikes would have been including carrot sticks. Carrot sticks always add crunchy orange insult to injury.

Don't get me wrong. It's flattering that someone is using something I wrote because they thought it was good enough to be in their general vernacular. Still, when it's my intellectual property-- and I'm just not all that intellectual-- I need all the help I can get. Don't take that away from me. I need it!

If you're the unwitting offender, you might not even realize that the writing you liked legally belongs to someone else. You might not realize it's actually plagiarism, and that it's as wrong as fishnets with culottes.

I liken it to this. You gave birth to beautiful children. On a whim one day while looking at photo albums, say I decided to tell everyone they were mine, and posted pictures of them on my website. Understandably, you might be offended. After all, it was you who spent 24 hours in labor, with really bad hair, probably were under-medicated for pain, and while the nursing staff was talking about cheeseburgers, you were stuck sucking down ice chips.

If someone patents a Rubik's cube move that warrants his name being plastered on web sites, he's earned that. He has the carpal tunnel and the Mentholatum to prove it. Likewise, let's say I enjoyed a stunning success with a secret spice in my meatball surprise. The resulting popularity might mean that everyone wants a bit of my Mrs. Dash epiphany, even it's still my recipe.

I won't take credit for your kids or for that man's mad Rubik's skills. Please don't take my Mrs. Dash from me. It's my flavor-filled tongue-twangy happiness in little confetti buds.

Like most other people, I have no false hopes that I'm going to be awarded the Erma Bombastic Award for Hilarity any time soon, but I am a writer nonetheless. What I write at this site, I own. It's in the super-secret decoder ring booklet included with every yourhub.com membership. And Travis told me so.

If you're a fan of my work, God Bless you! I love you. I want to adopt you. May all of your children be strapping like stallions and look slim in plaids. I'll bake you cookies. I want to know more about you, because you've taken an interest in something I've said. Maybe we really have a lot in common. And I'm flattered that you like what I've written. We can play Barbies. Or GI Joes. Or GI Joes who loved Barbies who said they have a secret (on the next Jerry Springer!).

It's nice to be liked. But if the lovin's only for my words that you took and put down as your own, then we're going to have a problem. If that's the case, you might still have my sweater, too. And my garden tools you borrowed last winter. And that book on yoga poses for beginners.

Long story short: Plagiarism is Naughty. Malevolent like a thumbtack on a chair. Super bite- Marv- Albert naughty. Like swapping the toothpaste with the hemorrhoid cream and wondering why your lips are puckered, but your rear end is minty fresh while- you- might- even- like- it- a- little -confusing- bad.