The letter is from Molly, a sandwich maker from the Bench area. She writes:

Dear Madame Amber: My boyfriend, Kyle, insists on blasting music every time we make love. Normally I'd be OK with this because a little mood music always greases the gears, so to speak. But Kyle only listens to BOB-FM, and that's the only music he'll play while we're getting frisky. If you're not familiar with BOB-FM, their schtick is that they play anything. That means you could hear The Beatles, followed by Prince, followed by Incubus, which might be great if you're having a backyard bar-b-que, but it doesn't work so well in the boudoir. Seriously, have you ever tried to maintain a good rhythm going from Green Day to Jim Croce? One second you're flying along in pure bliss, the next you're trying not to get depressed because there's a wet spot on the sheet. My boyfriend, of course, says he doesn't even notice the music after things get going, which makes me so mad. Help me, Madame Amber. If I hear Bobby McFerrin again while I'm involved in the Congress of the Cow, I just might become permanently frigid.

Dear Molly: You obviously haven't been with your boyfriend very long, otherwise you'd think BOB-FM is a relationship-saving (or at least a relationship-extending) gift from the heavens. I speak from experience here. After things get a little stagnant and repetitive with between you and that special someone, you've got to do something to rekindle a bit of that old magic. That's where BOB comes in. The two of you must take it as a personal challenge to keep things going smoothly no matter what the next song is. Anyone can be a champion lover if the beat is always the same and the instruments never change. But the day your man can keep stroking when the White Stripes roll into Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass is the day you'll know the two of you have something really special. But let's face it. That will probably be at least three or four years down the road, because I've yet to meet a man who can endure being Rickrolled while doing the nasty, and that inevitably happens if you're coupling to BOB as much as you should be. It's a complete game changer, let me tell you. The only other thing that can stimulate such an immediate withdrawal of blood is a photo I keep of Hillary Clinton naked. It's a Photoshop job, of course, but I've found there's no quicker way of getting out of a bad relationship than by whipping that baby out and making him look at her. Then I tell him that I think Hillary is so hot. Works every time. Anyhoo, have fun and remember that Mister Mister can make your relationship stronger.

Need help with your relationship problems? Madame Amber can help. Drop her a line at madame@uncleboise.com.

Madame Amber looks forward to the day she starts wearing diapers again.