The vicissitudes of young Richard Nixon

And I wasn't too happy about the anonymous parody I got in the mail shortly after that, titled "The Farting Quaker," with a picture of me like a train engine chugging butt-backwards--was it my fault I had stomach problems? Some agent of the Phantom, I supposed, like all pornographers and irreligionists. I was used to it by now, I'd been called just about everything as far back as I could remember. When I was in high school, our Latin class put on a play based on Virgil's Aeneid, it was maybe the most romantic thing that ever happened to me--I was Aeneas and Ola was Queen Dido and we wore white gowns and fell in love--but even then they started calling me "Anus" and not even Ola could keep from giggling. Years later, when I was in the Navy, I realized we could have called her Queen Dildo, but we were all too green at the time to know about that. It was amazing we knew about anuses.
--Robert Coover, The Public Burning