I did not write any of those emails to Sarah Palin. Nor did I tweet her no tweets. So stop asking.
– That picture of a pouch? That’s not my pouch. I’m not the only grownup in the world wearing that pouch. Swag from a movie is one of my perks, is the only reason I wear that pouch. The movie was a blockbuster and I took 50 of them.
– That list and description of Paris Hilton’s exploits at the Beverly Wilshire with Mitt Romney, Newt Gingrich, Herman Cain, Gary Johnson, Fred Karger, Michelle Bachmann, Jon Huntsman, Rick Perry, Paul Ryan, and Rudy Guiliani – not all at the same time! – is not mine. Nor do I know the bellhop there who provided the list for a couple ounces of blow.
– That screenplay for Sarah’s daughter to read and possibly star in was not mine. Besides, it was totally, absolutely soft core and could have been filmed in Alaska, at a motel near her home, assuming that they have motels up there.
– That request to become Sarah’s speechwriter, with sample speech, was not mine. After that one she sent a couple of goons to punch the writer in the nose and make him promise to never, ever write to her again.
– That email scolding her for sending the goons wasn’t mine either. A copy went to Obama and offered him the writer’s services, just to spite her.