Who says print journalism is dead? It’s not at the New York Post, which sent intrepid reporter Mandy Stadtmiller to spend a night with America’s first legalized male prostitute, “Markus.” Oh boy.

Yes, the Post flew Stadtmiller to Vegas with $500 cash for a session with the lazy-eyed, Asian symbol-tattooed ex-Marine, who just so happened to be homeless before he landed the “surrogate lover” gig at the Shady Lady brothel. Stadtmiller claims that she didn’t have sex with the “well-endowed” stud, but she totally got nekkid with him!

“So,” Markus says after leaning over and kissing my knee, “we’re going to get undressed and then take a shower. Then we can both inspect each other to make sure there are no discrepancies.”

Minutes later, as we’re standing naked in the shower, he’s examining me like a second-rate gynecologist and nodding.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, cooing that I’m “practically” an 8 or a 9. “Everything looks great down there.”

Oh. My. God.

“You have a beautiful body,” he tells me. He kisses my back. “You even taste good,” he says. Then he brings out his little “trick box,” as he calls it, but such is his luck today, he can’t find the lubricant he says is crackerjack for making women climax.

Again, Stadtmiller insists that she did not do any sexing with the “prosti-dude,” but the trip did allow her to advertise the fact that her fun-box is as pretty as a kindergarten finger-painting! Or something. The whole piece reads like a Mandy Stadtmiller personal ad if you ask me, so fellas, if you’re interested, here’s her email addy: mstadtmiller@nypost.com

Personally, I think ANIMAL should have sent Kari Ferrell “deep cover” on this one. Perhaps I’m a bit biased, but I have a feeling the resulting story would’ve been much more interesting.