I'd never met Dianna. Still, I decided to e-mail her back. As a sex columnist, I was interested in where it might lead. "I find you interesting, too," I wrote. "Where are you?"

Dianna never returned my e-mail.  Dianna, however, wasn't the only junk e-mail of a sexual nature that I responded to. In fact, I responded to nearly every e-mail of a sexual nature that came my way, for a week or so.

The responses to my responses were few. Three, in fact. From Candie Clementine I received a few sentences, "Waiting for you to enter me. Pick your night."

From Mona I received a paragraph, "Can you make me scream, big boy?" She wrote some other lewd lines. She also provided a phone number. The area code 613. Ontario, Canada.

From Scarlet I received the following: "Doctor, doctor, give me the news I've got a bad case of lovin' you. No pill's gonna cure my ill I've got a bad case of lovin' you."

These words sent off the alarm in my head. I'd heard them before. Sure enough, Scarlet had typed in the chorus to Robert Palmer's "Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor)."

To Candie Clementine I replied, "Where are you, CC? How can I find you?"

To Mona I replied, "I don't know about screaming, Moan-a, but I can definitely make you yelp."

I thought a little humor might go a long way.

To Scarlet I replied, "A pretty face don't make no pretty heart. I learned that, buddy, from the start. You think I'm cute, a little bit shy. Momma, I ain't that kind of guy."

If these words sound familiar, I took them straight from Palmer's song.       

At the end of last week, I received a response from Scarlet. "I know you like it, you like it on top. Tell me, momma, are you gonna stop?" More lyrics from "Bad Case of Loving You."

"Stop?" I wrote back. "We're just getting started."

I'm still waiting to hear from the other ladies. As these interactions move along, I will keep you informed.