I am sorry. Sorry that you have had to put up with dick pictures. No amount of sympathy though will suffice, I know.

The fighting cock. The gristle and muscle of the most absurd of appendages. Sperm injector at its most clinical and useless dangling lump of flesh when spent and useless.

Am I wrong to find it sad that as a species we are reduced to such base behaviour, that when faced with a brave and creative woman the first thing we find to do is to whip our dicks out, take a picture and send it to her? What does that say about us? What does it even prove? I honestly regret the unwelcome over familiarity I have shown you in the past but at least you cannot accuse me of that. It reminds me of a news article I once read (I cannot find the reference now, sadly) of a female long distance runner who when running in the middle east had to endure men stopping and openly masturbating by the side of the road as she passed in her tight shorts and sports bra.. At times she feared for her safety, and with good reason; these guys had rarely (if ever) seen a women so undressed. 

I found no eroticism in your latest work. No subtle massaging of my cerebral cortex. Nothing. 

I am not gay, nor homophobe. This was not meant to pander to us men, this was driven to the sisterhood. This was a message to those girls who wait in the shadows and are not going to emerge until the testosterone levels dip to an acceptable level. The other half of the sky.

May you find your way to their hearts Missy; it would be a shame if you did not.

Bless your little cotton socks,