Locking the article has also become necessary to prevent the constant reinsertion of a section with the heading “Like a Cowardly Slug That’s Just Spotted a Pile of Salt,” detailing at length the uncharacteristically unsatisfying night we shared in a Paris hotel last summer. As I made clear several times on the talk page of our sex life, that was a completely unrepresentative occasion and is therefore excluded from the article on the basis of a lack of notability.
From the column description:
Lynsey G. has taken odd writing jobs where she could get them for a few years now, and one day woke up to realize that they were all about sex. With gigs at three porn magazines doing DVD reviews, set copy, interviews, and more, a book in the works about swingers, and now this column, it appears that she’s deeply mired in smut. This column is more or less a place for her to rant, rave, and muse about the weirdness of watching people screw for a living.
I’m looking forward to reading more.
