Most of the emails this blog receives are boring beyond words. Every once and while though, something interesting sneaks in amidst all those scam inquiries from African monarchs. Last week, I received an email from a call girl living in NYC. "Alexa" writes A New York Call Girls Confessions (no apostrophe) and, for those still mourning the loss of Belle de Jour, get ready to dry those teary eyes. Suggested reading? This post about a job interview arranged by a madam with possible ties to the Russian mafia and another on a client named "Mr. Miyagi" (warning: nudity).

Alexa wrote in about the speeding ticket I received in Washington. Her advice? Ignore the fine and keep the speedometer firmly planted on 60 MPH.

I put this advice to the test today and did something I thought I may never do again: cross the Columbia River. My moratorium on the state of Washington lasted all of a month.

I still haven't paid the ticket, so every time I passed a cop my heart leapt into my throat. What was I doing up there? Taking pictures of cheesy motorcycle murals, eerie house pets and a certain volcano with a perpetually upset tummy. I tried to resist the siren's call of Mt. St. Helens but it really was just a matter of time. The photos will be posted next week, a full three weeks after everyone officially lost interest on the subject. The next feature up to bat? An entire article devoted to Seattle's new public toilets. It should be up on the site sometime Saturday.