DEAR READERS: Something about the recent column on lingual frenectomy really struck a chord with people – quel mail volume! Why all the interest? It can't be explained away by my own role in the narrative, however lurid or out of character (I hardly ever spit blood at people, in public). All I can tell you is that a passel of strangers wrote, my brother wrote ("You had a back-alley frenectomy!?"), My Friend the Rabbi wrote, wincing sympathetically, and another friend wrote with a personal experience to share. Hers was therapeutic, she reports, and she hasn't noticed any difference in reach since the (painful) stitches came out. Nor does she much care, being convinced that people like my correspondent have had their brains addled by (written) pornography, wherein massive, prehensile tongues perform tricks no human appendage was ever meant to.

Love, Andrea

Dear Andrea:

I used to have webbing that reached to the end of my tongue. This guy and I were in a rambunctious 69 when his dick popped outta my mouth. When he shoved it back in, it went under rather than over and "r-r-i-i-p." Suddenly my eyes watered, and I tasted blood ... but being the trooper I am, I said nothing; it didn't really hurt, and I didn't think much of it. But all action stopped when he saw blood trickle from the corner of my mouth.

I went to a doctor at a clinic, who asked if I was a homosexual and had AIDS (not if I was at risk, mind you), right here in good old San Francisco. So being the big ol' homo that I am, I told him exactly how the accident occurred. Good times! I happen to be able to stick my tongue out about an inch further, for all those lucky men out there, since my webbing was completely ripped out.

Love, Lickety Rip

Dear Rip:

Way to rip membranes, dude! Welcome to the frenulum-free club. And sorry about that dick of a doctor.

I'm choosing to believe that you, like the few people whose stories I was able to dig up on the Web, actually did gain some tongue extension. I'm getting a lot of different stories and assuming that there are a lot of different outcomes. Of course, there's always the possibility that it's all in your head. Either way, you're happy, and that's what counts. Harsh on your friend, though, huh, when he saw you lift your head from his crotch with blood running out the side of your mouth? Just for a second there, it must have been like staring into the abyss.

Love, Andrea

Dear Andrea:

I've attempted to cut my tongue web on my own several times, to no avail. It proved extremely painful and only healed back. I've decided that when I get some money, I'll have an oral surgeon do it with a laser. This is due to a disturbing thing that a doctor who did see my last and greatest attempt said. She saw it and said it was a good thing I didn't go any deeper, or I would have severed a tendon in my mouth, and I wouldn't be able to talk. Do you know what she's talking about? And how much do you think the surgery would cost? Also, I was wondering if you would know how much it would allow me to extend my tongue. Oh yeah – if you're curious, it's a fantasy of mine, not trying to compensate.

Love, DIY Guy

Dear Guy:

Tendon, schmendon. The good doctor just wanted you to stop trying to Ellen James yourself, and so do I. Good grief.

I've been poking around under the various tongues pictured in The Atlas of Human Anatomy. I couldn't find a tendon as such ("a band of tough, inelastic fibrous tissue that connects a muscle with its bony attachment"), but there are muscles and nerves aplenty, many of which, once severed, could leave your tongue flapping uselessly in the breeze. Not to mention numerous giant, pulsing, blood-filled arteries and veins. If you must do this, then please get an oral surgeon and pay whatever it costs. It's apparently quite cheap, and some surgeons will toss it in for free if you're having something else done. Got anything else that needs cutting?

Love, Andrea