On erotic arts

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Randall Tobias, director of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID)
Re: Fantasy fun

Dear Ambassador Tobias,

Laurence Shandy here. I know you've come under fire recently for your implication in the prostitution ring allegedly run by Deborah Jeane Palfrey. I want you to know that you have my total, unquestioning support. According to Ms. Palfrey, her organization did not provide illicit and illegal sex to high-ranking members of the Washington, D.C. élite. Instead, her company, Pamela Martin and Associates, offered a generous menu of delectable young women who would give you a deep-tissue massage -- on your back, might I add, which is perfectly legal -- and engage in some light, relaxing chit-chat. They may have come to your house, but they did not come in your house, and no law was broken.

For some reason, the media seems to have difficulty believing that you would hire a nubile young fawn to simply work out some of your shoulder knots. They are implying that you actually had sex with these women. Haven't they ever heard of the erotic art of abstinénce? You yourself have been one of abstinénce's biggest proponents. In your role Director of Foreign Assistance, you have spread the gospel of abstinénce throughout the third world as a healthy alternative to a painful death from AIDS.

Kudos to you, sir. I, for one, have had first-hand experience with the more media-friendly AIDS alternative, the common latex condom. I agree with you. The things don't work! They're rough as hell, for one. Why, a few years ago I almost had to give up an ongoing sexual relationship with the Olsen twins for all the chafing. Fortunately, Ashley (the smart one) had the idea of lubing up my rubber-clad member with a handful of spunk from her sister's eyebrow. And guess what? Nine months later, the Olsen twins became the Olsen moms. Thank God their list of recent sexual partners was as an Albertson's receipt, or my streak of unclaimed fatherhood would have come whining to a halt!

And besides, a few visits from buxom congressional interns with sacks full of lavender oil would be completely ruined by genital-to-genital contact. It goes against the very art of abstinénce. You build the tension. You nurture it. You inflate your scrotum with so much spunk, you could ride your testicles like rubber jumping balls. Then, you unload them into your good lady wife.

Or, in my case, into Lou Dobbs' brown-eye.

Keep the faith, Ambassador. You'll win in the end.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman