Michael and Barbara Ledeen were out of town.  They left a few things in my safekeeping, and -- listen, I know it was wrong -- I decided to try his Ouija board to see if it would be as lucky for me as it has been for him.

I'm happy to report that it was.  No, I didn't get his old friend Angleton.  I got Osama.  He was, you'll be happy to hear, bitterly unhappy at the news accounts of his life which have appeared in the world press since he went to sleep with the fishes.

ME: How did I get you?  This is Ledeen's hotline to Angleton.

OBL: You get one free call here, and I took the first open line.  My luck -- it's to an infidel woman.  It's been that kind of a year.

ME: Did you see that Obama is hoping to ride the successful raid on your compound into a second term?

OBL: You bet I did.  Fat chance of that.

ME: Why do you say that?

OBL: Listen.  If anyone can tell you the costs of overdoing something, it's I.  Well, Saddam's here and he could, too, but let's be honest.  When you run to every camera and open mic, giving yourself  a pat on the back for the work and bravery of others, when you are so wimpy that people laugh at the notion of a Rambama superhero  action figure, and when all your domestic programs are proving unworkable and economy-destroying, plugging me isn't going to take you over the finish line.  And then there's his Mideast policy.  Is he insane?  George Mitchell just announced that he's leaving.  In my wildest imagination, I never would have believed how thoroughly Obama botched the so-called peace process which he wanted to make the highlight of his term.

Then he ignores the continuing revolt in Iran and its progress toward nuclear weapons, looks the other way when Assad keeps mowing down the  civilian opposition, and forces your ally Mubarak out of office without even knowing who's next in line to  the presidential palace.  I couldn't have created a president more likely to cause the Middle East to explode.

ME: He doesn't seem to be able to see a step ahead, does he?

OBL: You can say that again, person of the female sex.  Look at Libya.  It's a deadlock now, but that fruitcake Gaddafi (I call him "Queen of the Desert") could have been taken out in days by you.  Instead your president diddled, waiting for NATO and the U.N., refusing to take the lead, starting and stopping.  Now Moammar claims to be alive but in a place where no one can find him.  Where's that?  In Obama's office?

ME: Well, of course you are biased -- and since he was the president when you were killed, I suppose I can see your anger.

OBL: So now what is he doing?  Leaking bit by bit stuff they claim they found in my house to keep people thinking about me and how I was killed on his watch.  I wonder how Joe Biden feels knowing I told my followers not to even bother assassinating him because he was too insignificant!

ME: I wonder how Biden feels knowing that the leak came from those in his own administration.

OBL: Yeah.  Well, there's that, too.

ME: Not all of the leaks show you in your best light.  I mean, there's that big cache of pornographic videos and CDs they found in the compound.

OBL: I know they said they couldn't be sure it was mine, but I also know that it was done to demean me.

ME: You're not fooling me.  Of course it was yours.

OBL: I can't tell you how I feel knowing that those military guys are getting their noses into my stuff like that.  Fatima Does Doha, Bambi in Bahrain, The Sword of Damascus.  Damn, I wish I had those CDs with me here now.  I haven't even seen a cute goat.

There's really no empathy in you Americans.  If you look, you can see my so-called "million-dollar mansion" was a hovel.  Really a pigsty -- you should pardon the expression.  None of the people who lived here could bother to lift a finger to keep things clean.  They were too busy bitching at me all day long to do any work.  And that "million-dollar mansion" story pales before the "evil mastermind" fable.  Evil mastermind.  Evil mastermind.  Some evil mastermind.

Can you imagine what it's like living in the same dump with three wives, Allah knows how many kids, and no kids' TV programs, no cable, no YouTube, no theme parks, no fast food, no LEGOs, no malls to shop in?  Nothing?

Day and night for years just screaming, yelling, fighting, filth, and they expect me to be an evil mastermind under these conditions?  What do they think -- I'm one of those action figures who can operate under the most foul circumstances?  It really would have been better if I lived by myself in a nice damp cave.  I coulda kept my wits about me.

ME: How do you occupy yourself then?

OBL: Well, I'm counting the days until Moammar gets here.  I suppose in January 2013, a new president who has more on his mind than golfing, vacations, fundraising, and White House soirées will get elected.  He'll step in the Oval Office, blow the dust off the desk, look around, find Moammar, and -- boom -- I'll have someone to commiserate with.

Listen, the fella who monitors these things is signaling that my time is up.  If I get another chance to use the Board, I hope I get someone more suitable to talk to.