As you've probably noticed, lately we've cut back on our coverage of former HUD spokeshottie Dustee Tucker. We didn't want to make life too creepy for her, now that admirers are spying on her at Mexican restaurants, posting Craigslist ads about her, and hitting on her at Starbucks.

We've been brought out of retirement from writing about Dustee Tucker, however, by her appearance in the Style section of today's Post. Staff writer Neely Tucker (no relation) has written an article about her his fancy weekend at the polo games, in which Dustee figures prominently.

It's our favorite piece in the section since Laura Sessions Stepp's wingman piece. So we thought we'd write a little something -- especially since we've received dozens of emails this morning asking for our comment on Dustee's return to the public eye.

More about Neely Tucker's article, and Dustee Tucker's appearance therein, after the jump.

Here's Dustee Tucker's first appearance in the article:

[W]e were out on the field with everybody else during the divot stomp. This is a break in the match where people drink champagne and say things like, "Hey, the brown thing isn't a divot !" And we met Dustee Tucker, who is from Dallas and is in public relations. We asked her how she would describe the event, and she said:

"It is truly the beautiful people of the day. The champagne is free-flowing and smiles are abundant."

Did we mention Tucker is in PR?

Ah, Dustee! We sure have missed you -- your good cheer, your positive spin, your way of always seeing the champagne glass as half-full. And the Post apparently liked Dustee's quote as well; they used it as the pull-quote at the top of the jump page.

The ever-helpful Dustee served as Virgil to Neely Tucker's Dante during Neely's descent into polo club hell. Dustee led Neely into "a big white tent on the east side of the field," where she gave Neely "the lay of the land." Sounds hot.

Sadly, the Dustee appearances are the best part of the piece; the rest of it isn't particularly interesting. Neely Tucker rambles on for a while, in stream-of-consciousness fashion, trying to sound breezily amused by all those wacky, polo-playing rich people. It gets repetitive quickly.

Some of you had even harsher words about the article. Here are some excerpts from the many emails we received about it this morning:

"Completely insipid."

"Has the Post has designated Monday as 'stupid article day' in the Style section?"

"Can't. Get. Away. From. Dustee. Seriously, polo? WTF?"

"Are Post Style reporters, who are supposed to be clued in, really clued out? The reporter never connected Dustee with Dustee, never mentions the pay-to-play spin La Dustee had to put on her boss's comments, or where she went on vacation. I am so disappointed. It's like return of the 'Wingman.'"

Thankfully, Dustee makes another cameo near the end of the piece:

Somehow it got late. The shadows were coming on. People were leaving the Ambassadors' tent.

Dustee Tucker floated by again: "The champagne is free-flowing and the . . . "

She wore her shades, the ones with the light brown tint.

Ah, those shades -- not to be confused with Peter Wallsten's. We're glad to see that the Post appreciates Dustee as much as we do.

In closing, we'll leave you with this riddle submitted by a reader: "The article is written by one Neely Tucker, and my question is, what are the odds that two women named Tucker would both have made-up names with double E's?"

It's a fitting final thought -- about as substantive as the article itself.

Correction: Neely Tucker is a man. Damn those Post reporters and their ambiguous names! (Yes, Dana, we're talking about you.)

As one of you points out, "Neely's also a very serious journalist who's covered war, famine, death, and all kind of atrocities, so he's well-prepared for any Dustee encounter. See more at http://www.neelytucker.com."

Polo, Anyone? [WP]