It’s another week and I again find myself compelled to use this weekly space to address a public concern.

By now you’ve heard of Brett Favre’s aggressive pursuit of Jets sideline reporter Jenn Sterger and, more recently, Kanye West’s ill-advised and x-rated correspondence with several MySpace admirers — correspondence that landed him and his member in the news and on the auction block.

It’s nothing new. Sean Salisbury got fired from ESPN for it. If you’ve ever left your phone at a frat house, it’s probably happened to you. But it’s got to stop; not because it’s harassment, but because it’s so, so sad — like watching a little kid try to climb back up the slide.

So to the Brett Favres and Kanye Wests of the world, I implore you: Stop sending out-of-context dick pics.

Much the way I am baffled by construction worker cat-callers, I wonder what possible reaction you expect to elicit with such unsolicited advances. What, pray tell, is your success rate? How many close-cropped images of your ding-a-ling have sent women rushing to reciprocate?

And if they were teetering on the edge of submission to your affections, has a j-peg of your j-unk ever sent them over?

Let me let you in on a little something on behalf of myself and my gender. We find you attractive in spite of your penises, not because of them. To be honest, they’re a little weird and totally out of place. (I’m not saying coslopi are a thing of beauty, but at least they’re politely tucked away, out of sight.) And taken in isolation, apart from the rest of you, your schlongs are truly jarring.

I know it might be hard to hear this, but when met with a picture message of your lone disco stick, our reaction is never, ever “Oh haaay, let me hop on that.”

It’s not that I don’t understand the allure of nudie pics — I tend towards Rihanna’s position on the issue. I don’t fault Portland Trailblazer Greg Oden, for example, for his bravado. What I don’t understand is in what world a person would feel driven to send another person a picture of *just* their Johnson, and what they hope to accomplish.

It’s vaguely threatening, first of all, and it’s definitely desperate. If you do insist on sending unwanted, unexpected images of your trousersnake, Favre, at least have the decency to groom.

And for chrissake, capture your pecker at its most picturesque. Know in advance the image will only be passed around and laughed at, and a lazy attempt won’t stand up to the competition.