Anyone who's been obsessed with sex for as long as Missouri state Sen. Matt Bartle has must be into some freaky shit.
Earlier this month, the Missouri Legislature finally passed the Lee's Summit Republican's anti-strip-club bill. It was the last, desperate gasp of a man haunted by mammaries. Bartle has been trying to regulate Missouri's adult industry since 2005. You have to wonder what goes on in a man's mind when he wants his name to be synonymous with ruining small businesses and interfering with individual freedoms. In his nightmares, is he watched by unblinking pink areolae? Does he keep a ball-peen hammer in his car's glove compartment to punish unbidden lust? Will becoming the face of the anti-nudity brigade help him mask some even darker desire, diverting suspicion from himself?
We can't know a man's inner thoughts, so we're asking for your help. If you can prove that you've had a sexual encounter with Bartle, we'll give you four free tickets to the July 11 Sublime concert at City Market.
You might ask yourself: What kind of Matt Bartle sex story will win me concert tickets? Truth is the only criterion. Maybe his tortured past involves transient hookers. Perhaps there was a gay experiment one brave night in college. Hell, maybe it was only a furtive hand job in a parked car. The offer also extends to any strippers who may have performed a grind routine on Bartle at any time, whether at an innocent bachelor party or on a night when, on the long road home from Jefferson City, he was one of those guys who comes in wearing sweatpants.
There's good cause for our suspicion. Earlier this month, Christian-right leader and anti-gay activist George Rekers was caught with a male prostitute procured from rentboy.com. In March, it was revealed that the family-values-flogging Republican National Committee dropped almost $2,000 at a West Hollywood strip club known for its bondage-themed stage shows, in which men and women simulate sex while hanging in nets. Just last week, former U.S. Rep. Mark Souder, of Indiana, resigned after admitting an extramarital affair with a female staffer. It's a documented trend: The Republicans who crow loudest about family values tend to be the ones paying leather-clad midgets to dance on their throats.
But we're not just going to take your word for it. We're serious journalists, and we'll need proof. Obviously, not everyone is going to have DNA samples, so it'll do if you can, say, describe Bartle's penis in lurid detail, mimic his sex noises or show us his 'O' face. We'll be happy to protect your identity, provided you aren't living a double life as a moral crusader against boobies.
E-mail your tales of shared lust with Matt Bartle to email@example.com. And remember, even if you don't like Sublime (the band has a new lead singer to replace the dead guy), the face value of all four tickets is roughly $150, so you can probably make some cash off the deal.
Hope to hear from you soon.