Jessica, please stop calling

Well, here we go again. Phone calls at all hours of the night. Love letters left on my doorstep, their I's dotted with little hearts. Oblique references to our relationship in songs that sniff the Top 40.

Jessica Simpson is available again. And she's after me.

We've been down this road before. Jennifer, Lindsay, Angelina -- they've all sought sweet solace in my arms. But Jessica, she's in a class by herself. Tenacious with a capital T.

Don't get me wrong. She's great, really, but I just can't keep up with her. All she wants to do is play chess, visit art museums, read policy papers. That girl has needs, and they're all the intellectual kind. Not that I condone it, but no wonder Nick turned to strippers.