I know I've been a little distant lately, Todd. I mean, both literally and figuratively. We don't talk much anymore and I've really only been back to Alaska twice in the past two years, once if you don't count appearances by my uncanny body double. I still don't see how that results in you deciding to support Joe Miller instead of my dear friend Lisa Murkowski for the Senate seat. You've been telling everyone it's because you believe in Miller's platform more than Murkowski's, but we both know that's not true. You may be able to fool the folks in the media who don't know you from Adam, but you can't fool the woman who once shared your home, your life, your bed. You haven't got a political bone in your body. That's why when that shadowy cabal from the GOP came to Wasilla looking for a new recruit from your anointed bloodline their leader said, "Forget it. We'll take the wife."

You're trying to get back at me for something, aren't you, Todd? You've always been so passive-aggressive. You've also made it a habit to go after every house fly with a crate of dynamite. So I'm not around a lot these days. Big deal. You've got plenty of people to keep you company, like those damn ice fishing buddies of yours. I'm surprised you haven't manufactured more reasons for me to stay out of Alaska so you can sit in some shack with Buck, Bill and Carbine Phil knocking back cans of Nattie Lite and pretending you can get some half-frozen fishstick in waiting to bite on your badly strung line. Every worm you ever wrapped fell off the hook, Todd, but that never stopped you.

Or maybe you're getting back at me because of what happened to Mr. Squeakers. I could tell by the look in your eyes that you didn't believe me when I said I left enough food in the cage for the entire week. Well, I did but that didn't stop the little idiot from chewing off his own leg just because he wasn't born with sense enough not to. Honestly, Todd, what kind of man keeps a hamster for a pet anyway? Why can't you get a slobbering hound or some ugly snake to make you feel like you're god of something? I know it hurt when Squeakers bought the farm, but it probably saved you an ass-whooping down at the bar for being an overgrown child.

I bet you're still steaming about that thing I had with Anderson Cooper. No matter how many times I apologize, no matter how many times I sit in Dr. Hazelwood's office letting that over-educated headshrinker turn me into the bad guy, you still won't let it go. If that's what this is about, and I'm pretty sure it at least partially is, you need to grow up and move on. I've told you a million times, it was on the campaign trail where things were really weird. When you're sleep deprived, hungry and constantly on the move, it's really hard to process the slick maneuvers of a hard-hitting journalist with dreamy eyes. And anyway, he's queer as a three dollar bill. Half the time he had his eyes closed and the other half he was staring at a poster of Daniel Craig he keeps in his room. It didn't mean anything and I didn't even know what I was doing.

So, please Todd, don't be a dick about this. It's not too late to slap our name on Murkowski's campaign and tell Joe Miller you had a lapse in judgment. Nobody expects politics out of you, but I have to carry this crap around all damn day.