A random letter received and printed by Wired Magazine:
Today I received an electric mail from "Erection Problems" telling me that I had the apparently unique chance to make my "squib" a "real space rocket" and raise me up to "the seventh sky of sexual satisfaction."
WHAT THE HELL?!
Of all the impertinent things to offer a man.
We can put an alleged man on an alleged moon, but we can't seem to protect ordinary, law-abiding chaps from great big stinking servings of crass opportunism and depraved filth whilst they try to eat their mid-morning muffin.
Who is responsible for this, and can they be punished immediately? Please advise.