Of the many letters I have received since my death upwards of eleven moons ago, the majority have shown an unhealthy preoccupation with my erotic life.
Though I consider this curiosity an especially acute form of perversion, I am also aware of my responsibilities to the many admirers who have taken the time to write me. They are, after all, my fans. Being an American icon, I feel compelled to answer their most frequently asked questions.
Q. Is there sex after death?
A. For most dead persons, no. For Protestants, no. For practicing Mormons, very probably. For Catholics who have chosen the purgatory route, definitely. For Islamist terrorists, the opinions are mixed. For voting members of the Dead Rights Party, it depends. On what? you ask. On whether your urn has been outfitted by the robotic device designed and manufactured by Myles na Gopaleen, Jr. and Associates, a.k.a. the Myles Junior Think Tank (MJTT), and whether you have purchased the Luxury Edition, which includes all the right sex organs. The $25,000 basic robot comes with a 36 month, 36,000 miles warranty. The Luxury Edition, which will run you $100,000, is warranted for 10 years or 10,000 orgasms, whichever comes first.
Q. Are you now, or have you ever been, married?
A. When I was alive, a woman back in Panhandle County proposed to me daily. Her name doesn’t come to mind. And no, I’m not presently married. Incidentally, I took the Luxury Edition option and am presently assembling a small harem, consisting of a mix of similarly-outfitted women and living ladies in the eighteen-to-sixty-four-year age range. For more information, you can usually find me at the Hôtel Adios Watering Hole or vicinity. Ask for Orville . . . Oh yes. The woman’s name was Florence. Owned and operated the only bar and grill in town. Proposed to every male patron who walked through the swinging doors. Her father died before she was born—at least that was the general theory. It would explain the need. I don’t imagine there was that much of a lust factor. She must’ve been, oh, in her eighties.
Q. When you were alive, did you have any extra-marital affairs?
A. I wasn’t married, so No.
Q. What about the ladies? Did you fool around with any married ones?
A. I tended to keep away from that type. Lots of jealous husbands, and bear in mind that this was back in Panhandle County, where a cuckold’s best friend is his 12-gauge shotgun. So I specialized in widows. They tend to be grateful. I picked up this insight from Ben Franklin, the guy who invented electricity. Lived half his life in Pennsylvania, the other half in Paris. Paris was probably where he got his theory about grateful widows. Never been to Paris myself. Wonder if they’ve got a branch of the Dead Rights Party? I’m thinking of starting an auxiliary branch. Motto: American Voting Rights for dead Frenchwomen and their deceased English-speaking parrots over the age of etcetera.
So there you have it. My erotic life.
Now, get out the vote! And you yourself might also want to vote.