Hello all! I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas, a Happy Hanukkah, a Kwanzaa-y Kwanzaa, a Spongeworthy Festivus and a Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious Solstice. And if I left anyone out, well, I don’t really give a shit.

I had a wonderful Christmas, thanks for asking, and I was particularly touched this year to receive so many warm wishes for the holidays from all of you, both via e-mail and the holy tabernacle that is Twitter. It made me feel a little like the baby Jesus must have, only I didn’t get any gold, frankincense or myrrh. So maybe bump it up a little next year.

In honor of all of those kind messages, I thought I’d take this opportunity to return some of yours. That’s right — I’m opening up the mail bag, and stepping all over Matt Labash’s stubby, little toes. (I don’t know if they’re actually stubby or little. I just imagine them to be when I dream about him. Which only happened that once, after some bad chicken curry.)

So with apologies to Matt, and thanks to everyone who are bored enough to write me, here goes! (If I didn’t answer your question, it wasn’t very interesting. Or it was incriminating.)

You said on Hannity one night that you wanted a new shotgun for Christmas. Did you get one? — Jim J.

Sadly, I did not, Jim J. Either Santa has joined the Sierra Club or my parents don’t want to encourage my bloodlust. It’s okay, though. My arsenal is fairly healthy. And this year I had the pleasure of GIVING a new shotgun to my best friend for Christmas. He loved it, of course, and said it went a long way in converting him from Judaism. “If giving out guns is part of Christmas,” he said, “I could learn to love that dude!”

How are you going to spend New Year’s Eve? — Carrie K.

I’ll be in the Big D, Carrie K. Dallas, Texas, shooting some skeet, eating some barbecue, and making terribly unoriginal jokes in the cowboy-penis genre. Like, “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” And “I guess everything IS bigger in Texas.” And “Would you mind not pointing that thing at me?” I know, I should set higher goals.

What’s your favorite venison recipe? — Bill H.

Glad you asked, Bill H. I make a rich broth with butter, beef stock, sauteed onions, mushrooms, red wine, soy sauce, garlic, salt and pepper, and pour it over some pan seared steaks. It’s simple and delicious, and I’m quite sure the deer prefers this preparation to others.

I always wanted to know. Do you keep up with the news when you go on vacation? Or do you actually try to have a life? — Susan S.

The short answer, Susan S., is yes! I enjoy my vacations, but I also keep up with the news. Not because I actually care all that much about anything that’s going on in the world, but because my job would be that much harder when I returned from vacation. Catching up on a week’s worth of old news, commentary and Twitter posts is painful and laborious. So I find it’s better if I just keep up. And good thing, too. Or this past week I would have missed…absolutely nothing.

Did you get patted down at an airport over Christmas? And if so, please describe in detail. — Brian J.

Alas, I didn’t fly this Christmas, Brian J. But thanks so much for the inquiry! I can tell, you’re a true patriot who cares greatly about our national security. In light of your impressive diligence, I’ll be sure to keep you posted on any future gropings during my travel this upcoming year.

What’s your New Year’s resolution? — Bentley M.

Same as every year, Bentley M: Watch more TV, gain weight, exercise less, drink more, waste money, treat my friends with disdain, spend more time alone, help no one and squander my success. I’m always trying to do this, see, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think.

Any 2011 political predictions? — Sarah C.

Hey, Sarah C.! That’s my name, too! OMG, cool coincidence! Like when you’re driving around and see someone else in the same car as you, and you try to get their attention with a knowing look that says, “Hey…isn’t it cool that we both drive a ’95 Toyota Tercel? We’re car buddies!” And they just look at you like you’re crazy, because no one would be excited to be driving the same car as someone else, especially if it were a ’95 Toyota Tercel, so you fake some kind of in-car business to attend, like fumbling with the radio or adjusting the mirrors so they don’t think you’re actually crazy, but just really preoccupied with whatever’s going on in your car, as if it’s super important. And then you speed off, and you start thinking, “Well he was a jerk. It IS cool that we drive the same car. And if he were a decent human being, he’d have thought so, too. I bet he’s just really unhappy. And can’t see the rare beauty of a situation like this. Man, the world’s a messed up place.” And then you’re depressed the rest of the day. Why you gotta be such a jerk, Sarah C.? You know, I DO have 2011 predictions, but now I’m not going to share them with you. Maybe next time you’ll be more excited that we have the same name. We need to celebrate the things that bring us together, instead arguing over the things that drive us apart. And now I’m depressed.