Recently I made the decision to devote more time to the Tales of Sin and Virtue, updating it at least a couple times every week. Since it might be difficult hammering out thoughtful essays with that regularity, I figured I would make up the difference by providing visitors with voyeuristic glimpses into my own life. Substituting quantity for quality is, after all, the American way.

If I were asked by a major magazine or primetime television show what it's like sharing personal information through the Tales, I'd say it's very much like pointing a video camera at your own genitalia and inviting other people to view the tapes. It starts as a ridiculous joke, with very low potential for long-term amusement. Then you begin to discover that your genitalia are far more pliant than you expected, capable of providing hours of entertainment. Sometimes you discover yourself doing innovative things on camera just because you want to provide your audience with a novel view of your genitalia. You discover it's far more satisfying than you ever expected.

Eventually, many casual visitors (over 1,500/week) stop by to look at the tapes of your genitalia. Some return from time to time, to check up on what your genitalia have been up to. Friends and family come by to peer at the tapes with surprising frequency, drawn by a mix of fascination and revulsion often reserved for car wrecks. Perhaps they are drawn to the sight of the real you beneath the clothes they see everyday. Perhaps they just don't see you very often, and they figure watching a short clip of your genitalia is better than nothing. Sometimes they call you to say that your treatment of your genitalia seemed a little rough this week.

Actually, no one asks me what it's like to write the Tales, because I think most people I know consider my online genitalia display to be at best, well, masturbatory, and at worst, sick.

For example, I went to a dinner party over the weekend that seemed to present great potential for a Tale. I'm rather new to the scene of Susan's friends, and outsider status tends to give one an oversimplified but plausible perspective. As far as the Tales of Sin and Virtue are concerned, the simplistic perspective is practically my specialty. It was a perfectly delightful evening, but the complexities of the interpersonal relationships seemed ripe for online exposition. This plan came to a screeching halt when Susan advised me strongly that I was cordially invited dick around with my relationships with my own friends before I started in on hers.

This was one of first real experiences with prior restraint, and possibly restraint in any form. I've revealed some things in the Tales that, in retrospect, seem ill-advised. There was that time when my dad found out about a death in the family from my webpage before I got my shit together and called him with the news. I admit I could have handled that one better. Most recently, the essay examining the benefits of submitting myself for human drug trials drew an outraged email from my mom, who invoked my middle name to demonstrate her intense displeasure at the idea of me damaging my genetic heritage for a few shekels and a cheap thrill.

Susan has a point in that it's unfair to do unto others less potential damage than I am willing to do to myself. So I've decided to institute a policy of Damage Points, in which I have to cause at least as much trauma to my own personal life as I inflict on others. It's very much like Weight Watchers, the popular diet plan which someone I know is using, only I can't tell you who until I divulge something of equal Damage Point value about myself. I also give credit for the idea to Aristotle, who wrote that "An unexamined life is not worth ruining," and, of course, Ken Starr.

In Weight Watchers, foods are assigned a certain "point" value, and you're limited to a certain number of "points" per day. You can eat just about anything you want as long as you stay at or below this number -- for example, 27 "points" for someone who is only slightly over their desired weight. Beer is worth three "points". I'm all for a diet which allows you to drink up to nine beers every day, even if you're prohibited from eating anything else. The word "point" is actually trademarked by Weight Watchers, and I'm paying them royalties every time I use it, as you should be, too.

The great part about "points" is that if you go over your target, you can work them off through exercise. Damage Points are just like that: any time I want to savage the lives of others or slapping up embarrassing info about them on the website, I only have to calculate the Damage Point value and preemptively divulge information of an equivalent value from my own trove of secrets. Look for revelations about which close friend's spouse I secretly despise, how I discovered the guilty pleasures of voyeurism and encouraged others to join me, and how I once dispatched a romantic rival with a hex. You'll be spared, however, the distinguishing features of my genitalia.