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Dear Debbie,


I'm sorry, but I will not remove that photo I posted on Facebook because you found it sexually explicit.


Imagine my surprise when I read your sext message. I did a spit take and was like, "Come again?"


Despite your attempt to have the photo in question removed by reporting me to Facebook, I will, nevertheless, honor and defend your—shall we say—"particular" sexual proclivities re: buildings with blacked out windows.


I must have been abstinence on that day in high school when the teacher exposed the students and undercover police to all varieties of sexual explicitness. (I did squeeze out a passing "D" in Sex-Ed, however, after some rigorous after-school-in-the-parking-lot activity. Indeed, had I not mastered this discipline, my ass would not smart as it is.)


And so it seems, that old chest nut of a Christmas poem was partially, at least, incorrect:  apparently, while all through the house no creature was stirring, something else was. I am not here to judge a person on what they find sexually explicit. Unless they want me to, in which case I charge a small fee—I'm available either hourly or overnight—and can I bring a friend?


I understand all too well that my sense of humor may not be your particular tea bag. This may be hard to get, but knee-jerk reactions make us all limp.  Ghandi said something to this affect, and I paraphrase: a pink-eye and a pink-eye give the whole world pink-eye.


I see no reason why, in this holiday season, we can't closely embrace and fondle and celebrate our sweaty differences in photography and, perhaps, night vision video. Laughing and pointing, I would argue, would be appropriate in this situation. We just might find that we have more in common than we think. Like our underwear or magazine collections or taste in black men.


Was it not from the Bible, after all, we learned that the limb would one day lay down with the loin?



Merry Christmas,

Richard (That's-Long-For-Dick) Forste

DEC 2014

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