Letter found in my in-box today, no greeting, no salutation, no signature, just:

How come you nearly never make animals mating, or girls with their viginas showing?

Every now and then I find myself staring fixedly at the ceiling over my desk, shaking my head slowly and wondering where, exactly, my life took this bizarre turn. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do, and as an internet artist, I am (or try to be) bulletproof, flameproof, and expect freaky behavior practically as a matter of course. But still. Had you told me, as a starry-eyed young anthropology major, that I would someday be receiving–I suppose “fan mail” isn’t too far a stretch–such as this, I woulda thought you were nuts. (And if you told me about the dragon people, I woulda…I dunno what. Sung a protest chant or something.)

The mystery of where exactly the “vigina” is located, I’ll leave for another day.

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