Apparently
we have struck a raw nerve with
many of our DanFan wives, a heretofore
remarkably tolerant and sympathetic
segment of our beloved constituency.
In fact, it appears that we have
inadvertently tapped into a hitherto
subterranean streak of libidinous
longing amongst our wives and
loved ones for the body and soul
of one Owen C Wilson, who some
journalists have begun to call "The
Butterscotch Stallion".
Fellas, this thing
is real — we
know that for a fact. Sales at
our concerts of Steely Dan babydoll-type
t-shirts have fallen off to almost
zero. Mickie the Merch Man is
desperately attempting to reconfigure
his now-worthless stock of b-dolls
into babushkas or mu-mus or
shawls or whatever may appeal
to our less immature ladyfans.
Things have gotten a little frosty
with Miss Carolyn and Miss Cindy
too.
So we urge you
to be on your guard against anti-Dan
reprisals as threatened above
and other even more troubling
signs of this dangerous syndrome
which we call Subliminal
Stallionitis.
Here are a couple of things to
watch for: |