Shalom and hang loose from Marty's cousin Conrad!! I went to Woodstock with Marty's dad Mickey back in the day (does the summer of "69" have any sexual innuendo, cuz?).  All you need to know about Marty's peculiar past  is that the best man at his father's wedding was a German shepherd (Gladys the pumping pup). Just want to say I love you, Marty, and admire you letting your perverted thoughts and penis figuratively hang out there in cyberspace and literally hang out there with your girlfriend and others (un)fortunate enough to know you.  My generation had Woody Allen for neurotic, sex-crazed Jewish humor, you  youthful Internet setters have Marty Beckerman:  tropical Alaska's hunk of burnin' Hebrew love  wet dreaming about  burning bush.  Cherish Marty, or I'll be forced to blackmail him with his Bar Mitzvah and soccer team photos of so long ago.   L'chaim and have a Happy Super/Fat Tuesday!