Dear Gennifer with a G: Get a life, Ms Flowers, a seasoned bimbo watcher tells the woman who is still cashing in on her claims to have been Bill Clinton's lover

Can we talk?

Look, just because the summer movie season is with us, does not mean Bimbo: The Sequel is gonna coin it at the box office. You tried passing yourself off as Bill Clinton's paramour two years ago and it didn't play, not even in Peoria. Or Pinner.

Now you're hawking this tape titled 'Setting the Record Straight'. But what makes you think anyone wants to buy your double-cassette package (57 minutes) plus transcript (76 pages) for dollars 19.95? What makes you think anyone believes it's really the Prez talking dirty on the phone with you? More to the point, who cares if it is, as all he reportedly says is 'babe' and 'uh huh'. I admit, I'm a fan of Bill, but that's not my point. This is not good business, Gen. This is not the stuff of which American entrepreneurs are made.

I read that you said: 'This isn't just about Bill Clinton and his womanising any more than Watergate was about a minor burglary.' Sure, Gen, and marketing tapes makes you Henry Ford. You think you can trade your big hair in for a Hillary coiffure and it makes you a policy wonk. You said you wanted to get the truth out. Tired of people calling you names. Get a job, Gen. Get a life. Get a J.

The thing is, you look like a woman scorned. When the press turned its attention to Paula Jones, the Arkansas state worker who accused the President of sexual harassment, you were forgotten. As a naked capitalist, you ought to understand that competition is the very heart of American business.

Think of the greats of your trade, of the really estimable bimbos who have gone before you. They didn't sell out for dollars 19.95. Think of Donna Rice who did for Gary Hart. Or Fawn Hall, Ollie North's super-shredder.

I'll tell you something. When it comes to telephone tapes, the late great Tricky Dick Nixon notwithstanding, you could take a page from the British book. When Charles and Di were having their differences, for instance, you could dial Diana's love-chat line. Now that was value for money.

'What are the distinguishing features of Bill Clinton's penis?' some shock-jock apparently called out at your press conference, but you demurred, as faint-hearted as a Victorian maiden. If you wanna make a buck, put up or shut up.

You remind me of those 'good for you' breakfast muffins which are, in fact, a con. As New York Magazine reported this week, 'one fat-ass muffin touting itself as healthful' turns out to have as many calories, as much fat, as FIVE BIG MACS] I'm afraid, Gen, it's starting to look as if your product is all fat and no protein. As someone once said: 'Where's the beef?'

Still, speaking of meat, if you're desperate for political work, there's always Dan Quayle. After all, he spells potatoe with an e.

Yours (the complete works) for only dollars 49.95 double-tape album or CD,

(Photograph omitted)