Mel Gibson and I have another little heart-to-heart

No, Mel. You and your new girlfriend don’t look at all ridiculous.

I know we’ve had our little differences in the past few years. My main problem with you not being that you’re a bloated, drunken, misogynistic, anti-Semite. My main kvetch is that you’re a stupid, bloated, drunken, misogynistic, anti-Semite. But, I’ve let that water flow under the old bridge.

And let’s face it, if you’d found me when I was 22, I would have jumped on your crazy train and rolled it on down the line. Of course, when I was 22, you were 35 and still had a career, a few marbles, some semblance of discretion and, well, hope. But, that was back when your wife was still thinking you were salvageable, too.

But, none of that matters any more. You’ve found your new little sugar tatas, and you look very happy. And again, not at all ridiculous.

So, here’s my quibble: Let’s look at this as a financial analysis. This time last year, you were worth more than a big “B” billion. Adjusting for some market erosion, it looks to be that your soon-to-be ex will walk away with about $400 mill (community property state, big guy). And now you’re dating a Russian singer who, while not outside the realm of age appropriate, is Russian. Though not to say all Russian women are, ahem, fiscally romantic, but they do have a bit of a reputation. I’d be thinking really carefully before you put a ring on your honey’s finger. In the blink of an eye, she could get tired of massaging your wrinkled old ego, and decide she wants half, and not the half that contains you. I’m just saying. Be happy. Just don’t get too happy.