On assignment

Dear readers,

For the next week, I will be on assignment in sunny San Diego, California covering the annual Comic-Con International. One of the costumed courtesans pictured above will receive my seed. Don't try to find me, dear readers, for I will be deep undercover as a character from the emotionally retarded nostalgia of a 26-year-old computer programmer.

Meet you back here next week.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, level twelve half-elf

On security

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, president of Iran
Re: Spying squirrels

Dear Moody,

Still haven't heard back from you about starring in Detroit Dick: A Matt Jade Adventure. Paul Haggis and I are still banging out the script, though, and I think it's going to do for fascistic Islam what Haggis' Crash did for America's racism problem -- and by that I mean simultaneously glamorize and trivialize it. But we're making good progress here. Pull off the baby birthing scene and you might even snag a Golden Globe nom.

But I'm actually writing to talk to you about this recent squirrel bust you've made along the Iranian border. You do realize the arrest and detainment of fourteen squirrels for suspected espionage seems a little paranoid. I mean, why not simply execute them? They're delicious, you know. And lean.

I'm just saying that you don't want to turn your great nation into some kind of prison state. At this rate, half your population is going to be incarcerated Western activists, woodland rodents, or uppity women. Look, I realize being 4'2" has to frighten you. The world seems like a big, dangerous place, where even the smallest of creatures could take you in a paw fight. But I want you to climb up on your step stool and look at yourself in the mirror. You are Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, president of Iran. So what if you're not tall enough to ride Space Mountain? You know what lives in space? Science. And science is a tool of the Great Satan.

Chin up, Moody. When you go visit those incarcerated squirrels, why don't you take a knee, look them in the eyes, and release them? After all, it's the fucking gerbils you should watch out for.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman


Video Bonus
Here's an informative video on cooking up one of my favorite autumn recipes. Squirrel melts.

On medicine

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Gordon G. Gallup, Jr., Ph.D.
Re: Semen therapy

Dear Dr. Gallup,

Notable literary bon vivant Laurence Shandy here with a personal matter I'd like you to clear up. Ever since the publishing of your groundbreaking paper, Does Semen Have Antidepressant Properties? (spoiler alert: yes), five years ago, I have been dismayed to see the torrent of criticism leveled at you and your findings. I hope I'm not making an embarrassing or potentially heartbreaking assumption here, but I'm sure your body produces semen. This, however, does not negate the validity of your scientific finding that semen is a potent and addictive mood elevator for women. There's a reason it's called spunk, you know, and any aspersions cast upon your research or your motivations simply because some of that life-giving manna shoots out of you from time to time (again, sorry if that's an incorrect assumption) is nothing more than sexist bigotry at its ugliest. The gender Nazis can't argue with science.

But even though I do not doubt the reality of your discovery, I notice that my own semen does not seem to have the effect on women (or men) that you say it should. Sure, I've done my fair share of seed spreading. You should see the bills for the gauntlet of lawyers I keep on retainer to shoot down paternity suits. I have no trouble bringing back repeat customers, either. But I am grounded and humble enough to know that my sexual prowess is probably due more to my massive wealth and smoky good looks than with any chemically addictive properties of my baby batter. Also, I have not found that a face, pink, or stink full of my bull gravy has any antidepressant effect on its recipients. Indeed, my sexual partners are just as likely to burst into tears after our encounters as they are to flash a smile. I wouldn't tell that to just anyone, but you're a Ph.D., and I trust you.

Is there something wrong with the chemical makeup of my love liquor? Or is it a problem with presentation? Do you think the emotional dissatisfaction of my coital cohorts has anything to do with my insistence on having sex only in the presence of a licensed notary public? I've tried concealing my legal team behind a two-way mirror, but I find the resulting experience to be lacking in both peace of mind and sexual potential. I'd hate to cut myself off from the opportunity to invite my notaries to join in the fun. Have you ever gotten kinky with a document stamp? I recommend it.

I hope you can advise me on this delicate matter. If you need a sample of my tallywacker tallow, I'm sure I can find someone within a thirty mile radius of your labs who will consent to a genital swab. Or, perhaps, a more intimate arrangement could be made.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On elevating the discourse

Dear readers,

As a legitimate and devoted journalist, I would be remiss if I did not correct a factual error in my letter to the Los Angeles Archdiocese earlier this week. All of the 500 victims of the clergy's penises are not receiving the same monetary compensation, as I originally wrote. Instead, they will be payed varying amounts based on the severity of the raping and the length of time the raping lasted. Also, twelve of the original plaintiffs in the class action suit have died of suicide or alcohol abuse since filing their complaints, so their share of the loot will be skimmed off the top.

I apologize for any inconvenience caused to the Archdiocese.

Speaking of legitimate journalism and ridiculous religiosity, I came upon an insightful interview conducted by Mr. Ian Murphy of The Beast with Ken Ham, president of Answers in Genesis, the creationist museum. I know first-hand how difficult it is to gain access to Mr. Ham, so I commend Ian Murphy on this impressive "get".

On comparisons

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rep. Keith Ellison
Re: Bush vs. Hitler

Dear Rep. Ellison,

Beloved raconteur Laurence Shandy here. I'm sorry I haven't found the time to address you sooner. I try to at least send a letter of greetings to any freshman representative within the first few weeks of his or her term. Especially to one as groundbreaking as yourself. Not only are you the first Muslim member of Congress, but you are also the first representative I with whom I would have sex more than once. With your dark and dashing good looks, you're like a manlier Obama.

Don't tell him I said that.

As an inexperienced new legislator, I understand how you might make the kind of mistake you made during a recent speech to a gathering of Minnesota atheists. Kudos on speaking to a group whose brains can operate at a capacity to dismiss the existence of God, or, as you pretend He's called, Allah. But when orating to a crowd with more than a passing acquaintance with critical thinking skills, it's important to be on your logical toes. Which is why I found it rather unsettling that you compared the attacks on the World Trade Center a few years ago to Hitler's burning of the Reichstag building. Hitler, in this analogy, would equal George W. Bush.

I find this comparison a bit faulty for several reasons, a few of which I'll outline now.

1. Bush rushed to war without a reasonable plan to rebuild Iraq, but Hitler killed six million Jews.

2. Bush failed to show leadership skills in the handling of Hurricane Katrina, whereas Hitler killed six million Jews.

3. Bush approved a policy of unlawful imprisonment and torture of terrorism suspects. On the other hand, Hitler killed six million Jews.

4. Bush pardoned a loyal friend convicted of perjury. Conversely, Hitler killed six million Jews.

I hope you'll find these facts useful in your next speech. If you need any more advice, feel free to contact me any time. I'll be in Washington later this year, in fact. I know how lonely a freshman congressman can get.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On compensation

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Tod Tamberg, spokesman, Catholic Archdiocese of Los Angeles
Re: Payouts

Dear Mr. Tamberg,

Like the rest of America, I was taken aback by the revelation this past weekend that the Los Angeles Archdiocese will be paying a $660 million settlement to those boys and men who have been abused by its priests, bishops, and various other cross-dressing employees of the Church. And by "abused", I mean raped. Catholics have never been ones to hide their affluence. I've been to the depths of the Vatican. I've seen the gold-plated Ottoman penises. But flashing a nearly billion dollar wad right out on the public stage? It's like fanning your wallet in a Turkish bazaar.

As part of this settlement, five-hundred rapees will receive over a million dollars each. Frankly, I think you're sending the wrong message here. I don't know any young boy who wouldn't line up and bend over for a shot at that much money. Do you realize how many Playstation 3s a kid could buy after that? What's a little priestly semen in the orifice when you're talking about digital surround sound and an endless stream of video games? Sure, these kids might suffer from irreversible sexual dysfunction the rest of their lives, but who needs a healthy sex life when you can afford to entertain yourself?

Well, it's too late now. The world knows how much the Church is worth and how much it's willing to give up in exchange for a little silence. Get ready to have your doors knocked down by hundreds more tearful, red-assed teens looking for a payout. My advice? Get a couple more thrusts and spurts in before signing whatever their attorneys throw in your face. After all, there's no uniformity among the five-hundred you've just paid off. Some of them were raped for years straight. Some of them may have just been a summer fling. And others could have only experienced a single night as a holy cum catcher. Since they're all getting the same payout, why not get a little more for your money? It won't last forever.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman


Video Bonus
Here's comedian Louis C.K. to teach you, dear readers, a little more about the Catholic church.

On training

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Edward Sondik, director, National Center for Health Statistics
Re: Teen sex

Dear Dr. Sondik,

America's sweetheart Laurence Shandy here. I recently read your reckless and telling statement in an Associated Press article on the lowered teen sex rate. According to you and your cronies at the CDC, a nation where teens are refraining from sexual intercourse is a nation where the risk of sexually transmitted diseases and unwanted pregnancies is significantly reduced. In your eyes, a land of pubescent prudes is a good thing. Even a healthy thing.

Obviously you bring a certain bias to the table in this debate. A man of your age and social bent has most likely spent his seed inside a vaginal cavity a time or two. This isn't to say you're a family man, or even a heterosexual. I won't make any political assumptions about you, sir. But even the gayest of my gay friends have impregnated one or two females by the time they hit fifty. There is only so much filtration in a Jacuzzi.

So, you probably come at this issue as a father -- as someone protective of his child's well-being. Perhaps even overprotective. I'll grant that a plague of genital warts, pussy discharge, and tract infections would not be the best thing for our public high school system. And I'll even go so far as to thank the lowered teen sex rate for saving one or two hotel janitors from fishing a dead baby out of a toilet after prom. But you're missing the bigger picture here!

Granted, it would seem like a good idea to not hand some Shi'a fundamentalist a gun and train him how to most effectively remove the head of his neighbor Sunni. But that's exactly what our nation's finest are doing in Iraq. You have to weigh the bad with the good, and there's no other way to train a robust and effective police force. What they do with that training is a risk, but don't you think it's a risk worth taking? How else can we win this thing, sir? Do you want us to lose?

It's the exact same situation over here in our own backseats and suburban homes. Teen sex is a training ground. It's insurance that when I find myself on assignment in some backward mid-American wasteland covering the opening of the world's largest Costco for some brain-dead editor at The Nation, that the nineteen-year-old trade school dropout I pick up at the local watering hole won't need written instructions in how to get me off. It's the very definition of the social contract. Were we to plunge into the dystopian world of sexless teenagers you so callously promote, where would that leave me and every other American who believes that barely legal shouldn't mean barely experienced?

Think about the implications of your words the next time you open your mouth, Dr. Sondik. In fact, it just might be the healthiest thing if you didn't speak at all.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On milestones

Dear readers,

Today marks the 50th Letters from Shandy post. Whether you choose to celebrate with family and friends or quietly at home with a bottle and a box of Kleenex, I'd just like to thank you for making Letters from Shandy the global phenomenon it has become.

Now, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, mister Cliff Richard!

On infatuations

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Nigella Lawson, host, Food Network's Nigella Feasts
Re: Cease and desist

Dear Nigella,

Please refrain from haunting my dreams.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On sanctity

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. David Vitter - (R) Louisiana
Re: Whoring

Dear Sen. Vitter,

I don't know you, but I feel for you. Being implicated in a Washington sex scandal is tough on the mind and the body, and I should know. Few remember the incident involving myself, Henry Kissinger, and a rubber glove full of embryonic medical waste, and I suppose I have Watergate to thank. Just like 9/11 swept Gary Condit's intern murder under the rug of public consciousness, so did the discovery of Nixon's plumbers keep Kissinger and I out of the headlines for very long. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there's always hope that a national disaster could remove the glare of the spotlight from your eyes. God willing.

And God is what I want to talk to you about today. Many are slinging mud at you over this scandal because you happened to champion a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage out of a desire to preserve the "sanctity" of marriage. Some are calling you a hypocrite who betrayed the sanctity of his own marriage by paying to have sex with prostitutes behind the backs of your wife and four children. But I know better.

I can see that breaking both the law and your wedding vows was the only way to bring even more sanctity into your marriage. I am fortunate to have a fully functioning brain, so I don't believe in God. But I do understand that He works in mysterious ways -- primarily as a fixer. Why should God pay attention to you if you asked Him to bless and keep your perfectly healthy, functional, adultery-free marriage. No one can fix what isn't broken. But by exchanging your taxpayer-funded salary for the chance to ejaculate inside an anonymous whore, you opened your marriage to an otherwise occupied God to play a larger role. Like Harvey Keitel in Pulp Fiction, God can be called upon to sweep into a bad situation and make it right again. Now, your wife has God on metaphysical speed dial -- calling upon Him night after night to make sure you don't soil the reputation of your family and constituents ever again. And you have the glowing righteous peace of mind that comes with asking and being granted forgiveness for your sins. God is now the "plus one" your marriage always needed. He is the trois in your ménage.

Don't pay any attention to the pundits and blowhards who would question your devotion to an imaginary deity. Instead, hold your head high and know that God may be on someone else's side, but he will never be in their bed.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On meeting a need

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Microsoft National Broadcasting Company (MSNBC)
Re: Predators

Dear MSNBC,

Latin-American singing sensation Laurence Shandy here, writing to thank you for your wonderful Independence Day gift. For ten hours straight on our nation's birthday, I was able to sit down with my family (that I know of!) and watch pervert after hilarious pervert meet his fate through the candid camera justice of To Catch a Predator: Raw. As much as I'd like to add an exclamation point to the end of that title, I'll refrain out of respect for accuracy. But what an exclamatory time we had here at the Shandy household!

Every July 4th, I like to invite my mistresses and their children to my Dakota Building flat for fun and fireworks. The kids work the barbecue grill while the ladies and I retire to the bedroom with fresh cocktails and a bag of bottle rockets. This year's celebration had all the makings of a bust, however. I can usually count on the kid-hypnotizing Disney Channel to weave a soothing spell from my assorted plasma screens, but the young actress who plays Hannah Montana on Hannah Montana made it known she didn't want to be subjected to her own singing any longer than necessary. Honestly, I'm not sure whether she was one of my mistress's children or one of my prestige invitees, but I didn't push the matter. But when I scanned the channels looking for an appropriate substitute, all I could find were benefit concerts and disingenuous speeches. Independence Day is no time to wax poetic beside some dead soldier's grave or let Tony Danza emcee a patriotic musical extravaganza.

So you can imagine my relief upon discovering a marathon of pedophile busting on your under-appreciated cable news network. It's refreshing to know your news directors were willing to eschew the obligatory jingoistic pap and deliver the family-friendly goods. I listened to the joyful sounds of children's laughter as they witnessed one sexual deviant after another cornered and lampooned by Curtis Hansen. Hansen is to Predator as Bob Saget was to America's Funniest Home Videos. In fact, all that's missing from your hidden camera footage is a humorously high-pitched voice-over. That is, of course, if there's anything missing at all from such a fine program.

Sometimes the joyful exclamations of the children in the other rooms were so loud I could barely hear the M-80s exploding in their mothers' vaginae. And I can think of no greater compliment a broadcaster could receive.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On celebrations

From: Laurence Shandy
To: America
Re: July 4th

Dear America,

Happy birthday.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, patriot


RESPONSE
From: America
To: Laurence Shandy
Re: July 4th

THANK YOU FOR CONTACTING THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. YOUR QUESTION/COMMENT WILL BE PROCESSED IN THE ORDER IT WAS RECEIVED.

On leaking Libby

From: Laurence Shandy
To: George W. Bush, president of the United States of America
Re: Scooter

Dear George,

It's two-for-Tuesday margaritas at V.J. Clitfrigger's, so I'll get right to the point. I think you've made an enormous mistake in commuting the sentence of former White House aide Scooter Libby.

I know you think you've made a concession to the Libby haters by refraining from a full pardon. From now on, Mr. Libby will have to check the convicted felon box whenever he fills out a job application. He's a marked man now. An outcast. He will have to learn to live on only his wits, speaking fees, and book advances. Life will never be the same for him thanks to your brand of tough leniency.

You're right to say Libby's punishment didn't fit his crime. In fact, you'd be right if you said he committed no crime at all. He was never on trial for leaking Valerie Plame's name to the press. The case against him hinged on a conversation he had with Tim Russert. The perjury charges stemmed from the fact that Russert and Libby had different recollections of the conversation. Deputy Secretary of State Richard Armitage has confessed to leaking Plame's name to Bob Novak, whose column outing the undercover C.I.A. agent was already sent for publication when Libby and Russert spoke. Of course you know all this. You're an information junkie. You listen to the paper being read to you cover to cover every morning. And of course Libby doesn't deserve jail time simply for remembering a conversation differently than someone else. Anyone with third-grade critical thinking skills can see that, and you're at least that cunning.

But you have to think of the bigger picture here, George. An incarcerated Libby could have been just the salve needed to heal the wound caused by this war in Iraq. The people are losing confidence in you, George. They wonder why we're overseas policing a civil war, and they want answers. But even more than answers, they want blood. Watching a jumpy YouTube video of Saddam Hussein's botched hanging wasn't enough. Rather than someone to answer why there were so many lies leading up to the war, the people want someone to answer for those lies. Scooter Libby was a gift horse, George, and now you're shining a flashlight down his mouth.

If you let Libby loose, they're just going to go after someone else. They may even decide to hold someone responsible for the war responsible for the war. Can you imagine it, George? It's not too late to change your mind. I'm sure you can find some constitutional justification for it. Call it the Loop-de-Loop Doctrine, for all I care. Just get Libby in an orange jumpsuit. Then the American people can rest easy knowing that justice has been served. Somebody will finally suffer for the crimes of your administration. And when they'll take anybody, somebody will most definitely do. That's what justice is all about.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On star making

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, president of Iran
Re: Oliver Stone

Dear Moody,

L.S. here. Just flew back from the Sandwich Islands last night, and boy are my arms tired. Some kind of tropical v.d. has been rampaging that place for weeks. Couldn't dip my wick in anything without wrapping it in banana leaves and spraying it with Raid. Suffice to say, I cut my losses and beat it myself most of the trip.

You know how it is.

Anyway, I'm writing to let you know I think you're making a big mistake. So, Oliver Stone's just another face of the Great Satan, and you won't let him make you the star of his next film. In fairness, I can see how you might be hesitant to work with someone like stone. He hasn't had a hit since, what, J.F.K.? Time has not been kind to either Kevin Costner or Joe Pesci's wig. Still, as long as he doesn't dress you up in some ridiculous hairpiece, I think you'd come out of this with some dignity. And why would he need to slap a wig on you, with your luxurious head of oiled mane?

This is your chance to finally make a positive impression on the West, Moody. For too long you've been portrayed as nothing more than a pint-sized powerhouse of murderous Jihadism and delusions of grandeur. The world is tired of seeing you as some kind of desert Napoleon drunk on undeserved power and witlessly beholden to the apocalyptic designs of an outdated and plagiarized religion. Make a fresh start, Moody! And do it in L.A., where fresh starts are born.

Okay, let's forget about Stone. He's a has-been, you're right. I'm thinking you should get your foot in the door with someone a little more popcorn friendly. You need a hit factory, my friend, and I know just the guy. What do you think about Michael Bay? Sure his movies are pedantic and cloying and one step above explosions porn, but isn't the history of your country almost the same thing? This would be perfect for you! I'm thinking a kind of tongue-in-cheek action/comedy. Something like Beverly Hills Cop. You don't want people to think you take yourself too seriously. Frankly, you're already seen as a little too sanctimonious after that whole "the U.N. was blinded by my glowing holiness" thing. We need to know you're just as good at taking jokes as you are at taking down. Tehran Secret Police? No, that's a little too ethnic. Our title needs to be a spoonful of sugar, if you know what I mean. How about Detroit Dick? There's a huge Muslim population in Detroit. I read about it in a John Birch Society pamphlet. And the word "dick" means "detective", but it'll also let the public know you're owning your reputation. It says, "Yeah, I know I've been a dick. That's just who I am." You'll really corner the "unlovably lovable" market.

Now your character needs a name. "Mahmoud" isn't going to work. What about "Matthew"? It's simple, it's bold. Don't worry too much about the whole New Testament connection. Jesus is mentioned in the Koran, right? As a prophet or a palm reader or something? Look, the important thing is it'll play in the red states. So, "Matthew Jade". How's that sound? Detroit Dick: A Matt Jade Adventure.

Instead of searching for the resurrected 12th Imam to usher in an Islamic apocalypse, why don't we have Jade fighting a gang of terrorists who are trying to resurrect the 12th Imam and usher in an Islamic apocalypse? I know this is an issue close to where your heart most likely is, but you're going to have to give a little in the presentation. Whether you're ushering in an apocalypse or your character is trying to stop it, the message gets out, right? Think of it like this: Raiders of the Lost Ark showed the Judeo-Christian God to be a merciless face melter, but that didn't stop the world from believing.

No publicity is bad publicity, Moody. Or should I call you Matt?

You have my agent's number. Let's have a breakfast.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman