It was a few years ago (how time flies!) that I offered Stan our spy and fisherman of renown in Florida, a painting as gift for his services rendered to le Mouching. (Services that often border on the illegal, which is out of order to reveal here. Also, I choose to keep my mouth zipped.)

For those of you who don’t know Stan, above and beyond his fishing abilities, he is one of the best spies on the american continent. He is capable, simply with the force of his scrutiny, to sink the most sophisticated North Korean submarines that sneak into our rich, warm water to fish the tarpon, bonefish and permit.

Stan’s wife, (about whom we don’t joke ’cause she’s one smart cookie) on examining the painting (oops, I almost wrote “masterpiece”!) cried out: “Pfffttt! I do as well as this pornographic slut in her platinum wig!”

And here is the proof: the talented Sharon did it better and with more modesty.

Hats off, cherished friend; your life-sized statue in carrara marble sits majestically in our offices at the Hotel Crillon and already hordes of fishermen from all over the world have come to lay coins at your feet, like the tourists who throw coins in fountains with florentine sculptures.

(Our banker is finally breathing normally!)

(Our banker is finally breathing normally!)