Dear Mr. Giuliani,

What's happening? I know you're very busy hanging out in Florida right now, but I wanted to drop you a line and show a little moral support on what must truly be one of the most lackluster and disappointing nights of your political career.

I'm gonna give you a little advice. When I was in high school, I became a competitive long-distance runner. Not a great one, not even really a good one. I was already good at lots of things-- long jumping, spelling, speaking, whatever, but not running.

I once made the mistake of inviting some family members to a track meet to see me compete; I thought the cheering would give me endurance. Instead, as I huffed and puffed my way towards two six-minute miles, I found myself making the eight loops around the track to the tune of my hulkish older cousin Michael's booming voice. He would heckle me each time I lunged for the straightaway: "GO FASTER!!! YOU'RE LOSING!!!" At that point I vowed never again to invite family members to an event I wasn't going to win.

See, this is kind of where you've gone wrong. Not only have you put all your nominasian-seeking eggs in one gross, balmy, Floridian basket--you guaranteed a win in tonight's primary and told the entire free world to watch!! Are you some kind of masochist? What do you think your mother thought when she read this [sub-]headline??

Here, I'll tell you what my grandma thought: "(clucking tongue) Ayy-ya, Giu-yani so shame, he not even first loser. He COMPETE to be second loser!"

Then again, I'm pretty sure my grandma would spit on a bronze medal. But there you go.

Save a little face, Rudes, it's time to call it a day.

Hugs,
Diana