I haven’t yet written about the importance of lube to senior sex. I was concerned that’d be TTMI for most people (too-too much information). Instead, I’ve stuck with little stuff. Making one’s own hand-dipped condoms (you can customize the ribbing to match your vajayjay’s rifling). Recycling and selling second-hand vibrators (at the thrift shop up the road, where the customers are always satisfied). Home-made lube (a woman can formulate it to give herself the right combination of sly glide and delicious friction).

Ya know, your writing is such a welcome break from the silly thoughts bouncing around in my head. You have a beautiful, lyrical way with words. “Oh, to be a thought in that mind of yours. To play around all day, never having to leave. Never to be translated by a voice box, reverberating on the edge of the air.” Your writing is what I’d expect to hear at a literary salon. Mine is what the barflies scribble on their cocktail napkins at the low-brow bar down the street. (Which, by the way, is where my editors hang out.)