Reading the story about Bill, Monica, and the cigar (“Cigar, Anyone?” 8/28), I visualized reporter David Carr in a fluorescent-lit room, wearing a surgeon’s gown and mask, using antibacterial soap to scrub his significant other’s genitals, eyes averted, his mouth puckered in an O of disgust.

Perhaps the reason people don’t give up on Clinton through all this is because normal people aren’t a pack of thin-skinned Puritans. I was disgusted by sex when my mom first told me about it, but I grew up eventually. I’m sure once Mr. Carr reaches puberty he will change his mind as well.

Arlington, Va.

via the Internet

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