So in Wednesday's New York Times — a paper I enjoy reading while having my problem areas tweezed and sculpted into a topiary — I was shocked to find Maureen Dowd mentioning me in her column about Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.

She's pissed that I called him a "foul-smelling fruitbat" — a description I know is true, since I have confirmation from insiders that he smells and is a fruitbat. She says I'm "small-minded" and "heavy-handed," which means I have both a tiny brain and big hands.

Hey Maureen, you know what they say about men with tiny brains and big hands.

She then cites President Reagan as a shining example of how to deal with evil, which is weird considering Dowd and her paper always saw Reagan as a big joke. She fails to mention that Reagan managed to scare the pants off the Commies. Remember, "We begin bombing in five minutes?" I do, Maureen. I do.

Oh, how I dreamt of the day Maureen would finally notice me. But instead of calling me up to go hot-tubbing with Frank Rich, she chastizes me for making fun of an Iranian madman.

Maureen, what does he have that I don't? Is it the hair? The jacket? The desired destruction of the Jews? It's his degree in traffic management, isn't it?

I can change Maureen. Don't write me off just yet. Just tell me what to do. Mahmoud will chew you up and spit you out. He's got hoes in different area codes! Quite frankly Maureen, he's just not that into you.

But I am. I'll wait. When he's done with you, just call me. We'll have margaritas. I'll even wear the jacket — maybe pants. I won't like it, but I'll do it… for you.

And that's my gut feeling.

Greg Gutfeld hosts "Red Eye with Greg Gutfeld" weekdays at 2 a.m. ET. Send your comments to: redeye@foxnews.com