To: Readers of Phil’s Proof
From: Phil
Date: July 31, 2006 Night-ish
Subject: What do you want?

After my first post, a literary tour-de-force, I came right back and delivered even more hot ‘n steamy action. I spoke about geezer politicians and about Hollywood blockbusters. I poured my heart out in a beautiful retelling of a personal encounter at a coffeehouse, then delighted the musically curious with a smashing orchestral piece. I wrote about beautiful women and how we should treat them. And then the e-mails came.

What was the verdict? Great! Terrific! Fantastic! Ass-clenchingly good.

So I got compliments from friends and strangers who were all, ‘we love you!’ and ‘you’re so fucking hot!’. Then there’s the hate mail from the disapproving mothers who were all, ‘you disgust me with your juvenile shit’. And let’s not forget about the shitfaced teenaged boys who wrote in just to tell me, ‘I ain’t reading no ten page post, yo’.

Then there’s the e-mail I got from Don Foley, nominated Best Actor in the Sundeis Film Festival — who, when he’s not kickin’ ass on screen, likes to program in Java, play the fiddle, and speak Cockney.

Fuck, I even got a letter from the girl crossing the street telling me to keep my eyes on the road and away from her firm ass. And just for the record, your ass was so not firm. Bitch.

See, that’s great. Really. I’m dazzled. I’m flustered and flattered. Oh, look at me blush like a little schoolgirl.

But see, there’s something I forgot to mention.

Of all the wonderful posts I’ve written and of all the witty repartee I’ve imparted, you my readers chose to single out one in particular. In the past week, this singular and unimpressive post has garnered me more hits than any other section of Phil’s Proof. More excitement, more comments, and more love than any other.

I have two words for you: suck face.

So I realized something. You can even call it a fucking epiphany. What do readers want? I mean, what would it take to really push this blog from just ‘good’ to ‘great’? What would it take to transform Phil’s Proof from an unassuming and pleasant evening conversation to a full-out keg party with bikini clad women mud wrestling under a disco ball with little blinky lights?

Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. Pure, unadulterated, hot, steamy sex.

So from now on, Phil’s Proof is gonna be all about sex. All the time. I wanna know when you’re doing it, how you’re doing it, and how you’re liking it. Right now.

So for the benefit of my next post, tell me: do you like to be the spanker or the spankee?