Letters From Shandy

On understanding

2007-12-11T10:43:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Deborah King, health and wellness author
Re: Colorado shootings

Dear Dr. King,

Thank you for your Huffington Post column on the recent tragedies in Colorado--namely, the crazy fuck who shot all those people. As one who tends to shun those who would offer their exorbitantly priced health and wellness services, I normally wouldn't have come across your article. My animal fight or flight instincts would have chalked the shootings up to just another fuck with a gun and a head full of crazy. If I hadn't been trolling the Huffington Post for updates on how awful the Bush administration is (update: it's still awful), I never would have experienced your eye-opening words of wisdom.

As you kindly point out, your travels as a health and wellness lecturer have given you a unique look into the hearts and minds of the American people. You've shrewdly observed that the average upper middle class white people who come to your lectures in search of answers to life's overwhelming upper middle class white people problems are, in fact, stressed. Maybe you're right in your hypothesis that the crazy fuck shooter was simply a hormone-ravaged and over-stressed crazy fuck shooter. And can we blame him? After all, how can one be expected to face adolescence with any sort of non-murderous calm in the face of such urban spread? Until you reminded me, I'd forgotten that in the past I could simply take a walk through nature to unwind myself after a long, near-homicidal day of living. But since all forest land was destroyed via executive order and the techno-fascist megalopolis assimilated my local parks, there's nowhere for me to go--much less a young man trapped in the concrete jungle of Colorado.

And I'd almost forgotten about 9/11. You're right--no one feels safe anymore. We all awaken to the paranoid glow of our color-coded terror alarms. We're too busy being patted down by security to feel secure. If only we could enjoy the golden age of safety our parents enjoyed--ducking and covering under their flimsy wooden desks. All they had to worry about was the threat of global thermonuclear annihilation, while we run the risk each day of encountering a swarthy guy with a box cutter.

Thank God you're here to tell us how to stop these hormonally unbalanced, emotionally overloaded crazy fucks from shooting up our churches and schools ever again. I can't wait to take your advice and "unplug from the rat race", "re-connect with my humanity", and "weave a strand of peace" into my day-to-day life. Let's just hope all those crazy fucks out there do the same, or look out!

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

RESPONSE
From: Dr. Deborah King
To: Laurence Shandy
Re: Colorado shootings

Laurence,

Thanks so much for your comments - really on point!

Best,
Deborah King

On making headway

2007-11-30T09:45:00.001-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Reese Witherspoon, actress
Re: Salary

Dear Ms. Witherspoon,

Congratulations! No, I'm not talking about your recent split from husband Ryan Phillippe, although I suppose some kudos are in order there. I'm sure you'll sleep better at night without that droopy monotone buzzing in your cranium, and you'll make more successful morning trips to the bathroom without worrying about tripping over your ex-husband's perpetually pouty lower lip. How did you deal with that thing, by the way? Did it rest in a kind of bedpan on the floor? And what about the drool problem?

Anyway, as happy as I am that you've finally cut the dead weight, I'm even happier that you've been named the highest paid actress in our great nation! Now you can finally afford to fix your face. It warms my heart to know that even the pie-faced and butt-nosed among us kind climb the ladder of Hollywood success all the way to the top. Of course, it didn't hurt that you gave all the stepped-on masses below you quite a view. From the neck down, you're quite a looker!

However, you may want to hold off on the reconstructive surgery for a spell. Who knows whether you've risen to the top of the pay heap based on your talents and not your handicap? After all, it seems a little hard to justify a $20 million price tag for an actress who didn't even have the lead role in her most successful film in five years. In fact, your monetary value could be directly related to your appeal among America's dumpy. Soccer moms across this great land can peel their husbands away from the emotionally numbing television long enough to go see one of your romantic comedies, then come home and not feel so threatened when they look in the mirror. There's something to be said for such a talent. Maybe that's why Scarlett Johansson's movies never make any money. I take one look at her perfect proportions, and I almost want to kill myself. And I'm better looking than you!*

That said, you may want to go under the knife after all. The young Sissy Spacek had kind of a so-ugly-you-want-to-fuck her appeal, but now that she's hit middle age, it's more like a so-ugly-god-she's-so-ugly "appeal". If you don't want to waste away your golden years playing the mother of the girl who falls in love with her dog on the Hallmark Channel, a little nip and tuck might do you wonders. Just don't spend all your money in one place.

Unless, of course, that place is your face.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

*As judged by the readers of the July 14, 2003 issue of Teen People.

On clarification

2007-11-27T08:49:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: The Guy on Craigslist Who Used My Article to Make a Political Point
Re: The Use of My Article to Make a Political Point

Dear Guy on Craigslist Who Used My Article to Make a Political Point,

I'm not really sure what kind of political point you're trying to make by using my Vanity Fair article on the practical uses for dead Iraqi children. You were responding to a particularly anti-Muslim post on the San Diego Craigslist site, and you mention something about a photo of 9/11 and "Ameritards".

First of all, no photo of 9/11 accompanied my article. It is, instead, a photo of Muslim women and children running and screaming from an explosion in Iraq. As New York City is, in fact, a city--not some desert wasteland with a single lightpost--you should have been able to stave off this error using simple context clues.

Second, my article does not blame "all Muslims for the actions of GWB". I'm assuming here that by "GWB", you mean George W. Bush, though if you're actually talking about Geoffrey Winslow Bates, screen star Kathy Bates' less popular son, then I apologize. I don't blame all Muslims for the actions of George W. Bush. In fact, I don't blame all Muslims for anything. It's silly to go making blanket accusations against such a huge group of people. Unless, of course, one would like to blame all Muslims for practicing the Looney Tunes-esque absurdity that is Islam. Which I would, and I do.

Regardless, my article was not meant to be political in any way. With its helpful hints and do-it-yourself spirit, it's really no more controversial than an episode of Surprise by Design. But instead of telling you how you can make the most of your old drapes, I'm offering suggestions as to how to use all the adolescent body parts that would otherwise be thrown in Halliburton's collateral damage bins.

That said, the World Trade Center towers would still be standing in all their retro '70s glory if it weren't for the murderous Islamic doctrine so cynically and inhumanely fed into the fallow minds of Muslim youth born and bred to follow the arbitrary laws laid out by an illiterate, child-raping warlord from the 7th century.

Also, 9/11 had nothing to do with the war in Iraq. What are you, an Ameritard?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On misplaced anger

2007-11-26T11:43:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: The Government of Sudan
Re: Jailed teacher

Dear Sudan,

Don't you like how I didn't call you "the" Sudan? I've done the research into your beautiful country, and I found out that you're not a "the". In fact, there are very few countries that are "the"s. Ukraine is just called Ukraine. The Netherlands is... Actually, isn't Holland really The Netherlands? I don't know, and, frankly, I don't care.

See, I'm not an insensitive type. Just because I'm white and of European Christian decent, and I'm not totally ignorant to your customs and ways. Sure, when people mention "The" Sudan, they can't help but harp on guerrilla fighters abducting young boys and mutilating the genitals of young girls, but there's a lot more going on in your fine country. However, you make an even worse name for yourselves when you overreact like you've just done.

You can't go throwing British school teachers in jail simply because they let their students name the class teddy bear Mohammed. It's a very popular name, like Whiskers or Sugar Smax (my teddy bear's name). It's definitely not blasphemy, no matter how you define it. And I have to tell you, the West doesn't look kindly upon any country that enforces blasphemy laws. Unless, of course, you're talking about Saudi Arabia, but they're kind of like the rich kid on the block. He's a bastard, but where else are you going to play Neo-Geo?

The least you can do is stave off any hypocrisy charges by cracking down on disrespectful depictions of the Prophet across the board. Why not start with that book you guys like. The Koran? Or is it just Koran? Regardless, that thing is chock full of all sorts of libelous claims about Mr. Mohammed. Are you really going to let malicious publishers flagrantly violate your blasphemy laws by printing books describing your most cherished celebrity as a war-mongering, bloodthirsty, illiterate pedophile with an inferiority complex almost as big as his head?

Throw the literati in jail along with that so-called "teacher". Maybe they can use their "education" to talk about "books". You know, stuff that has no place in Sudan. But no matter how tempted you are, please don't mutilate anyone else's genitals. That kind of stuff is getting harder and harder to explain.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On feeling around

2007-11-19T08:48:00.001-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Christopher Hitchens, Vanity Fair contributor
Re: Waxed junk

Dear Hitch,

Congratulations on your efforts at self improvement. Maybe you're only turning your life around as fodder for your columns, but the deed is done regardless. Hopefully you'll tack a few more days onto the end of your golden years, but it'll be strange seeing the new you. Were we ever to cross paths covering the war-torn ravages of Eastern Europe, I'll be taken aback if I don't find you trolling the ruins of a bombed-out restaurant, locking your lips to the head chef's corpse and sucking away for any taste of semi-absorbed alcohol. If we stumble upon a gang of molotov-throwing anarcho-communists and you don't offer them sexual favors in exchange for a few cigarettes, I'll be shocked. And, of course, I probably won't recognize you if you drop below 180 pounds.

But good for you, and good for your lovely wife. Judging by our rendezvous at the National Book Awards last week, I can already notice an improvement. Sure, you still pilfered the wine glasses from all those who momentarily turned the other direction, but you did it with a kind of youthful vigor I've never seen from you before. And your pride in your newly waxed sack, back, and crack was well-deserved. Those editors and publishers who felt of your baby-soft genitals that evening were correct in dubbing them as smooth as summer cherries. It's an engineering feat in itself that so much scrotal skin could have been pulled so taut.

However, I must tell you that my own phalangial wanderings painted a less than healthy picture. I can't argue with their relative hairlessness, but I must say I felt a few worrisome bumps along the way from your urethra to your taint. Maybe they were only gooseflesh. After all, the non-fiction winner was about to be announced. (Sorry about the loss, by the way.) But with all my training in the fine arts of phrenology and reflexology, I feel I'd be amiss if I didn't warn you that the raised ridge along your life vein doesn't at all jive with the fact that Jupiter was in its western house that night. In other words, I think you have the herp.

If I were you, I'd get on the phone with anyone who left your company only to partake of a few pigs-in-a-blanket. We might have an outbreak on our hands. Literally.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On making waves

2007-11-16T07:01:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Mike Gravel, presidential candidate
Re: Speaking up

Dear Mike,

I tried to watch the Democratic presidential debate last night. I really did. But I find the more debates I watch, the more my head becomes disoriented. Like a retarded kid on a merry-go-round, I don't know what's happening, but it all seems familiar. And the coverage doesn't help. I'm not interested in some manufactured three-way rivalry between Obama, Clinton, and Edwards. I could do without Chris Matthews' wild speculations as to whether Barack will pin Hillary to the ground, penetrate her vagina with an ice pick, and call upon John to bite off her ear.

Although that would at least be entertaining. And we'd all have to bear the uncomfortable pause when Hillary appears for the next debate sporting a diaper made out of medical gauze.

I guess what I'm trying to say is you've let me down. From the beginning of this campaign nearly a decade ago, I counted on you to pipe up as the voice of insanity. The Republicans have Ron Paul and his 9/11 conspiracy theories. You were our last best hope for a sudden outburst of bat-shit crazy.

And no, I don't count Dennis Kucinich. Crazy he may be, but with a wife that looks like that, he has a kind of inherent cool factor you'll never achieve. If the Unabomber had been married to a particularly sodomizable MILF, he wouldn't have received half the bad press he did.

While everyone else posed for campaign ads in front of crackling fires and shelves of fake cardboard books, you had the balls to throw a rock in a river and simply walk away. What happened to that guy? That's the guy I never would have voted for, but I always love to see.

If you don't open your mouth and let the crazy fly, the world's going to leave you behind, Mike. Let's face it, without this campaign, you're really nothing more than some wandering hobo with a terribly ill-conceived outlook on foreign policy. So the next time old what's-her-face is spouting on about how she may or may not support universal healthcare for only illegal immigrants, why not clear your throat, rip open your shirt, and tell America what we want to hear: "The chicken gizzards are loose, and mama's asshole needs a sprinkle! Let's negotiate with Iran!"

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, campaign adviser

On retaliation

2007-11-14T12:01:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: People magazine
Re: Matt Damon being named Sexiest Man Alive

Dear People magazine,

Fuck you.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On the lesser of two fakes

2007-11-13T09:15:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Hillary Clinton, presidential candidate
Re: Planting questions

Dear Hillary,

Nothing against you personally, but I wish you weren't such a ubiquitous presence in the headlines lately. I'd much rather be writing to Barack Obama or even John Edwards. It's not that you're not a looker, Hillary. I'm sure you once did rather well in the rebellious upper-class hippie-in-music-taste-only demographic. It's just that there aren't many women who can fill out a pantsuit in all the right places. Gillian Anderson, maybe, and even she didn't start hitting on all cylinders until a few years into The X-Files.

But I just couldn't let this latest smear campaign against you go unanswered. So you planted some questions at a campaign stop. Big deal. I know there's been a lot of talk about how you're just another establishment candidate lining her pockets with corporate money and putting on whatever face you feel will get you elected. All of that may be true, though you should really consider shopping for another face. Something less, you know, doughy.

Still, there's a wide swath of difference between you and someone like George W. Bush. It's not a question of who plants questions and who has the knowledge, intelligence, and honesty to answer the real, extemporaneous queries of the electorate. Like anything in politics, it's a question of degrees.

Let's take Gary Condit, for example. Remember him? That guy murdered his own intern, and I can't remember which house of congress he belonged to--much less how to properly spell is first name. It could be Garry Condit, for all I care. My point is he only murdered one intern, and that's acceptable behavior. Maybe not for a serf working some monkey job for minimum wage, but congresspeople are held to a difference standard. Allowances are made in politics. Maybe if he'd murdered forty interns, I'd remember which state he came from.

Similarly, there's no comparison between your question planting and Bush's. You train your robots to ask about health care plans and what it's like being a strong-minded woman in a man's world. Fluff stuff, sure, but nothing compared to the questions the Bush camp plants. I once saw a White House staffer dressed in overalls stand up at a Bush rally and ask the president just how much Jesus loves us. And the guy still took fifteen minutes to come up with a coherent answer.

Your campaign be be a scam, but it's less of a scam than some others. Though this kind of insult-by-comparison isn't going to stop anytime soon. Who knows how it's going to rear its head in the future? I do, however, have a guess. When the media confronts you about Bush's impending invasion of Iran, just remind them of your differences with the commander-in-chief. He did it. You simply allowed it.

On second thought, you might want to stay away from real reporters. They don't tend to stick to a script.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On welcoming guests

2007-11-12T10:15:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Joseph Ratzinger (a.k.a. Pope Benedict XVI)
Re: Visiting the U.S.

Dear Ratzo,

I'm so happy to see you'll be visiting me here in the States. Sure, you have to use a trip to Ground Zero as cover, but you and I both know why you're coming here. I think you'll have a great time. Everyone here seems to love you. No one in the media even batted an eye when you changed your name to Pope Benedict XVI. I thought it might take some time for your new label to catch on--maybe you'd have to suffer a few years as the cardinal formerly known as Joey Ratzo. But you have these people eating out of your hand.

Just a couple of tips to iron out the kinks of your visit. It's no big deal, but there are a few major differences between the U.S. and that gold-plated gaud-ville you call home. For one thing, you may slip on a wadded up scrap of latex as you're cruising the New York streets. For what they have in style, your Prada loafers are probably lacking in traction, and they're definitely no match for a cum-filled condom. That's right, Ratzo. They're everywhere. For the sake of expediency, you might not want to stop and pray for the lost sould of every little wasted sperm whenever you step on a condom. Chances are, your liaison from the visitors' center is going to have a stomach encrusted with little lost souls from the night before. It's just the way we live around here. It's a cultural difference that may be ugly, but you just have to overlook it. Kind of like your church overlooks genital mutilation in Africa. Natives will be natives, after all.

Another thing we like to do here is kill our criminals. Ironically enough, we usually catch them by examining their cum. Of course, that's also how we usually exonerate them, but that's beside the point. I know you frown upon capital punishment, Ratzo, but it's just the way we roll around here. Tell me you've never wanted to murder anyone in your life. According to that fantasy novel you're always quoting, desire speaks just as loudly as action. Over here, we just turn our desires into action. Why not stop by one of our fine prisons and flip a couple of switches or depress a couple of plungers while you're here. Just to see how the other side lives. It'll make you seem a little more tolerant, and it'll make for a great photo opportunity.

Before the flashes go off, though, you might want to think about rubbing a little shimmer under your eyes. You kind of have that dark circle, Emperor Palpatine thing going on. If you need a number, I know a guy. You might not want to shake his hand, though. It's probably covered in lost souls.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On Mailer

2007-11-10T08:36:00.000-08:00

Dear readers,

Norman Mailer, the distinguished man of letters whose eyeballs haunt the logo for this very website, has died at the age of 84. Some have said his life served as a model for my own hard drinking, hard living, hard loving ways. On that I can only utter a feeble disagreement. Although it was he who taught me how to make love to a live kangaroo's pouch while writing a great American novel.

He will be missed.

Here I present a memorial video of Mailer rolling in the grass with Rip Torn.

On strike

2007-11-08T10:15:00.000-08:00

Dear readers,

As you may have heard, members of the fantasy novel-esque Screen Actors Guild have decided to kink the entertainment hoses simply because the major Hollywood studios refuse to pay writers for anything they create for the Internet. Well, I'll have you know I write on the Internet (this is it right here, in fact), and I've never been paid a dime for it.

Actually, I probably should have been. Especially considering this website is owned by AOL/Time Warner.

You know what? I'm not going to write a letter today. I've got a case of Absinthe to snort my way through anyhow. See you suckers later.

I'm on strike!

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, rabble rouser

On treading lightly

2007-11-07T09:32:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Pat Robertson
Re: Giuliani

Dear Pat,

I guess we haven't spoken since meeting on that cargo plane full of illegally mined African gold back in the eighties. As the shady looks we gave each other during the flight have already said, I know what you've been up to, you know what I've been up to, and it's best to just go our seperate ways. Still, I think we made the kind of connection only those dealing in shady back room business together can make. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry I didn't send you a condolence letter when you lost the '88 presidential election. You must have been crushed--especially after God told you you were going to win. What a let down.

Anyway, I read about your blossoming relationship with Republican presidential candidate and hero of 9/11 Rudy Giuliani, and I figured this was my opportunity to make up for lost time. You see, as a former comrade in sneakery, I feel like I should warn you off this guy before it goes too far. If I may be so bold, I've noticed your track record with male companions has been a bit spotty. Most of the televangelists you've befriended over the years are now under congressional investigation, and your former friend with benefits Jerry Falwell keeled over and landed neck-fat-first into a legacy of seething, reactionary bullshitery. You should be using your remarkable upper body strength to pick yourself up and dust yourself off--not rolling in the mud pit that is an association with Rudy Giuliani.

I know you two made time on a flight to Israel some years back (what is it about you and airplanes?), but I happen to know the guy. He's bad news. Sure, he might throw some legislation your way if he makes it to the White House. Maybe you'll get a wink as he vetoes some kind of mandatory sodomy bill. But the next thing you know, he'll be shacking up with a younger, more lively faith healer. He likes the newer vintages. By the time you're fed up enough to kick him out of your life, he'll just go sleep on the expensive luxury couch of one of his gay New York buddies. He'll be dressing in drag and performing abortions in no time--and you'll just be hole up in the 700 Club studio chowing down on Ben & Jerry's while sighing wistfully at footage of President Rudy tearing down another strip club.

This is a warning from an acquaintance in the know, Pat. Heed it like you would the voice of God. Unlike His, my predictions sometimes come true.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On omens

2007-11-06T08:23:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Joseph Ratzinger (a.k.a. Pope Benedict XVI)
Re: Nancy Grace's spawn

Dear Ratzo,

You know I'm not one to buy into all that apocalyptic mumbo jumbo your church shoved into the back pages of the Bible. Why all the hiding, by the way? I understand saving the good stuff for the end, but it's a little jarring to be reading epistle after epistle after epistle, and then--BAM--a seven-headed dragon. Anyway, the whole thing seems dotty to me. Assuming St. John wasn't really an underpaid, non-union scribe of the early church with a grotesque imagination, I don't put much stock in the epileptic fever dreams of one of Christ's lesser hangers-on.

But I believe what I see. Or at least I believe what comes down the news service wire. And I have to say the news that two living creatures have slithered out of Nancy Grace's infernal womb is enough to start me browsing Amazon for a Left Behind novel. Well, almost.

I know you're not one to fret over the end of the world, but you predecessor sure was. I've seen the documents. I've been under a cardinal's skirt or two, and I'm surprisingly fluent in ancient Greek. The astronomers won't admit it, of course, and the deeds may have been doctored, but I happen to know J.P.2 dug deep into the Vatican's coffers and came up with enough dough to purchase the world's premiere observatories. I guess what I'm trying to say is maybe your Jesuits and other crazies should have been aiming their telescopes a little lower--maybe right between Nancy Grace's thighs--because only Wormwood could have gestated within that demonic husk.

Don't worry, we still have time. Neither of these twin engines of destruction yanked from Nancy Grace's loins could be Lucifer himself. He is, after all, the light bringer, and I've stared into Grace's eyeholes long enough to know there's nothing resembling light inside her. But they could be the Devil's heralds, in which case we'd better be prepared for Armageddon.

Kick off your Prada loafers, Ratzo. It's time to go to work.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On sympathy

2007-11-05T07:48:00.000-08:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Oprah Winfrey
Re: Abuse

Dear Oprah,

How are you? That's not just an empty greeting. I really want to know how you're doing. Personally, I could never imagine being in your situation. You set up an academy in South Africa to train young girls to be your henchwomen, and here they go getting abused. I wonder how anyone could live with themselves after sexually, violently, and verbally assaulting teenage girls under their charge, but then I realize it wouldn't be all that hard. You know, comparatively speaking. Far less difficult, anyway, then continuing to breathe after realizing you, Oprah, have been let down.

Despite how often your tear-wiped face has appeared on my television to tell me how hurt you are that these girls were hurt, I can't imagine that their hurt matches your hurt. After all, they're teenage girls in South Africa, a country where a little sexual abuse is tantamount to an aggressive "how do you do?". You're Oprah Winfrey. Like E.T. with Elliott, a whole nation is empathically linked with your psyche. Your hurt is our hurt.

As this trial gets underway, I hope the media doesn't become distracted by a few young, abused faces on the witness stand and overlook the real story here. Maybe by setting aside a few minutes of your show each day to draw attention to just how much you're suffering, we can prevent you from ever suffering this way again.

Here's hoping.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On going undercover

2007-11-01T09:57:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Washington State Rep. Richard Curtis
Re: Gay sex

Dear Dick,

Laurence Shandy here. I don't know if you know this, but the media seems to be all atwitter over the allegation that you solicited gay sex from a Spokane man and claimed he stole your wallet after you refused to pay the $1,000 you promised him. Oh, and also you were wearing women's lingerie.

Personally, I don't understand what the big deal is about men wearing women's underpants. If you'd been in a pair of silk boxers, no one would have said anything, and a nice pair of panties provides the same kind of luxurious comfort with just a little more scrotal support. Frankly, I don't know why anyone wears anything else under their trousers. And there's nothing wrong with gay sex by itself, either. In fact, I think the only reason you've made the headlines is because you're the third Republican in government in three months to be popped with a gay sex scandal.

A word of advice: abandoned this "deny everything" tactic your colleagues have so famously squandered. No matter how many times you tell the world you're not gay, there's always going to be the matter of the police report, the testimony of your gay sex partner, and your gay porn mustache. (By the way, don't think of shaving it. It compliments your bone structure beautifully.) Instead, why not just come clean? So you engage in a little gay sex from time to time--how else are you going to know it's a lifestyle you don't support? Don't knock it till you've tried it, as they say.

Look, I'm all the time engaging in activities of which I disapprove. It keeps the mind sharp and gives me more ammunition in my arguments against the practicing of those very same hobbies. I would never vote for the legalization of blindfolding donkeys and treating them like a cheating spouse, but I do it anyway. I can refute the morality of such an act in gross detail, because I've experienced it in even grosser detail.

I'm not saying gay sex should be outlawed or that homosexuals shouldn't have equal protection under the law (although that would make the whole enterprise titillatingly illicit), but I respect your views. And you obviously respect those views enough to explore them to the fullest. Kudos to you, sir.

But next time, try not to offer your wallet up for collateral to a gay prostitute. That's just bad business sense, and no one wants a state legislature who's so careless with money.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On Halloween

2007-10-31T12:18:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

This Halloween, like most Halloweens, I'll be hiding from the ghosts of my former conquests in the broom closet. And speaking of former conquests, enjoy this clip of Vincent Price performing on The Muppet Show.

On playing politics

2007-10-30T07:22:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rudy Giuliani, 9/11 promoter
Re: bin Laden invitation

Dear Rudy,

First of all, 9/11. Now that that's out of the way, let's get to the issue at hand. The Democrats seem to be up in arms about your recent claim that Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama would invite Osama bin Laden to the White House if they were elected president. I know you were just making a crack at their limp-wristed calls for diplomacy, so you don't have to explain yourself. I understand your "shoot first, ask questions never" position. Diplomacy calls for an effort to understand a madman's position. Maybe even to learn a greeting or two in his native language. I know as president you'd be too busy preventing another 9/11 to pop in a Rosetta Stone CD on Arabic. However, I don't agree with you on this. Personally, I'd never pass up a chance to meet face-to-beard with Mahmoud Ahmadinejad. Have you ever caught a whiff of that guy's musk? I broke into the Columbia University auditorium just to sniff his podium. Smelled kind of like dates and human rights violations.

But even outside the realm of overly ambitious diplomacy, I feel you shouldn't be too quick to judge a candidate's open invitation to Mr. bin Laden. After all, the guy's loaded. Politics being what they are, the next president's barely going to have enough time to whack it (or squish it, if the case may be) in the Lincoln Bedroom before they have to ramp up the fundraising machine for the next election. bin Laden may be cold, hard evil, but he's also got some cold, hard cash. And that's Saudi cash, too. The good stuff. I think they're on the oil standard.

Draining the pockets of bin Laden just makes good fiscal sense. One advantage of today's political climate is that there's no indiscretion too egregious not to fall away at the first sound of a half-assed apology. I mean, the Department of Justice's voting rights chief just gave a speech where he claimed there were no elderly minorities because they all die off quicker than whites. All he had to do was issue a little mea culpa through his spokesperson, and all's well. If CNN's cameras happen to capture a blurry shot of bin Laden being ushered into his limo outside the White House's front door, what's the worst that could happen? Obama or Clinton would just have to stand in the press room, lake a couple of softball questions from David Gregory, and give a little shrug. If they're talented enough, they might even try an Urkel-esque "Did I do that?" catchphrase. In a wink, they'd not only be lovable goofs, they'd have a healthy campaign war chest, and bin Laden would have a few less dollars to plan another 9/11.

You know, I just thought of something Rudy. If there's one thing the American people love more than a catchphrase, it's an action-packed sequel. Maybe you should consider extending an olive branch to bin Laden as well. After all, you could always be the hero of 9/11 one more time.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On quality control

2007-10-29T07:17:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Marka Hansen, president of Gap Inc.
Re: Child labor

Dear Ms. Hansen,

Well, this is simply disgusting. How can you sleep at night knowing that under your watch the Gap used unpaid child slave labor to produce its garments? I couldn't believe what I had my secretary read to me. Children sold into factory slavery by their parents? Sweatshops overrun with excrement from overflowing toilets? Beatings with rubber pipes; oily rags stuffed in mouths, as simple punishment for a shed tear?

This is the stuff of Thunderdomian nightmares. And I was even more appalled by this news than anyone else. Just last week I purchased a pair of skinny fit Gap jeans (who says anorexia's a disease?) and the blasted things have already started falling apart. Ms. Hansen, if you're using starving 10-year-olds to stitch these garments, shouldn't the public expect a tighter seam? Shouldn't every fiber of this fabric be covered in the durable salt of an Indian preteen's sweat?

If I wanted my clothes to unravel at a moment's notice, I'd buy pants made by paid adults. Lord knows you're not passing down the savings ($40 for a pair of boxers?), but I understand that. As a libertarian, I have faith in a free market system. I'll fight for your right to make a profit, but I won't let you exploit these children if I'm not seeing any results.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, consumer advocate

On the bright side

2007-10-26T08:04:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dana Perino, White House Press Secretary
Re: Climate change benefits

Dear Dana,

You look nice. I mean, you're looking really good. You always look good, though. I'm not trying to say you sometimes don't. I'm just saying you look particularly nice today. You know what? Let's try this again.

Hi. Laurence Shandy here. You may remember me from your peripheral vision. Look, I know the bloggers and pundits are up in arms over your suggestion that global warming leads to health benefits. But they're blinded by their politics. They don't see the bigger picture like I do. Like you do. Like people like you and I do.

We have a lot in common, is what I'm trying to say. Probably. Maybe we can talk about it some time?

Here's the thing. What with all the bans on public smoking, it's not like a few greenhouse gases are going to collapse anyone's lungs. If anything, they're just making up the difference. And it's not the severe drought that causes the kind of preternaturally arid conditions that lead to massive wildfires. It's the irresponsible campers who take advantage of those conditions.

But you know my favorite part about having a warmer climate? I don't have to worry about climbing naked into a bed full of cold sheets every night. Cold sheets are the worst. What with all the nipple hardening and everything. You know what I'm talking about.

Of course, there are some bad things about global warming as well. In such a temperate climate, you no longer need the warmth of my body to comfort you through the night. But just because you don't need it, it doesn't mean you don't want it, huh? Am I right?

Why won't you return my calls?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On the back room

2007-10-25T09:16:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rep. Nancy Pelosi, (D) California
Re: SCHIP vote

Dear Nancy,

Unlike sick children across the United States, this whole SCHIP debacle just won't die. Now the Republicans in Congress are crying foul over the fact that you've set the vote to override President Bush's veto for this Thursday--the very day you know full well that several Republicans will be accompanying Bush to your home state as he attempts to single-handedly extinguish the flames which threaten to incinerate your district. Aside from the smell of sneaky politics, this move opens you up to criticism from those who would say you should be in California yourself--not pushing through politically advantageous legislation.

I can't pretend to understand your moral quandary. I myself have never seen a sick child, so I have a hard time placing a face to an idea. My own illegitimate children must pass a rigorous health exam before they're even allowed into my building. But I can appreciate the tactical advantage this legislation gives your struggling party. Let's face it--the war's still going strong and I can still be subjected to the CIA's S&M tactics without cause or warrant. The Democratic party needs a victory here, and the SCHIP bill is just the kind of thing you can force a 12-year-old to pimp. And taxing smokers to pay for it? Brilliant move. America hates smokers almost as much as they love preteens. It's a win-win.

Sadly, though, you're no match for the veto pen of a lame duck president with an approval rating barely in the double digits. How else are you going to stand up to such mighty power than by sneaking in a back room vote? The Republicans have left you no choice. Best to just get this thing out of the way when they're not looking. And maybe while they're busy invading Iran, you guys can pass some kind of torture ban.

Just kidding. How could you possibly get enough votes for that?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On Romney

2007-10-24T09:56:00.000-07:00

Mitt Romney's not enjoying the best of times these days. His square, masculine jaw; his spit-shined hair; the beautiful chiaroscuro of his gleaming teeth against his preternatural tan--none of these presidential qualities seem to overcome the political momentum of a lisping, pro-choice bald guy or a droopy D-list actor. He's not the best speaker, either. Just recently, he repeatedly transposed Osama bin Laden's name with Barack Obama's. Plus, he's equated his sons' campaign shilling with brave military service. And now, just as he was beginning to enjoy the support of the Christian conservative voting block, he releases this campaign video:

Not the best way to hide your dirty laundry, Mitt. With all the concern over unchecked expansion of executive powers, people are going to feel a little uneasy with a president who plans to literally ascend to godhood. And speaking of laundry, why not watch this stunning work of investigative reporting by journalist John Safran:

With all this in mind, I've decided to resign my position as Mitt Romney's unofficial campaign adviser. Sure, I can drive the press in circles while my crew scrubs a prostitute's blood out of a campaign bus' ventilation system, but there are just some problems nobody can fix.

On burying the lead

2007-10-23T09:20:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: CNN.com
Re: Celebrities on fire

Dear CNN.com,

I know very little about southern California. As an East Coaster, I don't travel there very often, and when I do, I'm usually in too altered a state to really make sense of the place. I'm more likely to wake up in an anonymous Hollywood motel next to Tyrone Power's corpse (true story) than I am to study the ins and outs of Californian geography. However, I do have a basic understanding of the lay of the land, and I couldn't help but notice your excellent coverage of the currently raging wildfire.

Sure, it's interesting to read about thousands being evacuated from their homes and then the subsequent burning of those homes. I'm more than a little interested in stories of desperate rescue efforts amidst plumes of smoke and clogged roadways. It's even nice to hear a heartwarming tale of evacuees giving up their cots to the elderly and infirm. But we all know the real national concern here, and it doesn't have anything to do with the middle to upper income nobodies filling up our computer and television screens. No, I need to understand how this natural disaster will effect our filmed entertainments and prized celebrities--you know, the things that matter.

Which is why I was disheartened to see that on the priority list of wildfire coverage, you chose to place the headline "Fire affects TV shows, celebrities" all the way at #9--just above a story about Barack Obama's embarrassing link to homophobic gospel singer Donnie McClurkin. Who cares about whether or not San Diego's NFL stadium will be big enough to house all the homeless if I don't have the peace of mind that comes from knowing if Keifer Sutherland will be able to make it to work? If I'm worrying about Teri Hatcher's risk of smoke inhalation, how do you expect me to concern myself with pictures of a burned out cul de sac? Unless, of course, that cul de sac used to house America's sweethearts Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson.

Pull your heads out of your asses and get on the ball, CNN.com. I need to know whether or not Dancing with the Stars will still be on when I change the channel from Larry King.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On bedside manner

2007-10-22T09:19:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Leo Trasande, assistant director, Center for Children's Health and the Environment, Mount Sinai Medical Center
Re: Body burden

Dear Dr. Trasande,

Thank you so much for stoking another medical panic in this country. Just when our heart rates had stabilized over SARS, bird flu, shark attacks, monkey pox, AIDS, and jungle rot, you come along with your "body burden" testing and get as all hysterical again. Isn't it enough that genius physician and former Playboy playmate Jenny McCarthy discovered autism in childhood vaccines? Don't new parents have enough to worry about with their polio-ridden, unvaccinated children without you coming along and screaming about how most of their babies' blood is industrial chemicals?

So what if you found an 18-month-old with more hi-tech polymers floating around his innards than the Space Shuttle? For my money, there's no replacing the peace of mind a parent should feel if their child is composed mostly of flame retardants. You can say goodbye to spontaneous infant combustion for good. There's no telling how much money the average family will save on urns, dustbins, and ruined cribs. What's a potential thyroid condition when compared to a lifetime of fireproofing? Even if (and this is a big "if") these polybrominated diphenyl ethers act on human babies like they do on lab rats and cause early puberty, what's the harm? A sixth grader with a nice rack and/or a full beard will never want for popularity.

Frankly, these chemicals sound like a wonder drug. Hello, infertility; goodbye, tax burdens. Are you aware that this stuff has even been known to shorten the space between the anus and genitals? 'Taint nothing wrong with that. My chode's like an alien landing strip. I had a one night stand with Erich Von Danikan, and he wouldn't remove his head from my thighs.

Regardless, we don't even know what effect these chemicals even have on people. Instead of freaking out innocent parents, why not raise your own children in a chemical-free environment? Think of it as a control group. Wrap your baby up in a wool blanket freshly ripped from the muscle tissue of a syphilitic sheep. Pick out the mites from your baby's bottle of unpasteurized milk, and pray she doesn't come down with monkey pox in the middle of the night. All in the name of science.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On glorification

2007-10-19T09:00:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Hillary Clinton, (D) New York
Re: Woodstock museum

Dear Sen. Clinton,

Laurence Shandy here. Normally I'm not one to agree with your colleague John McCain. I find his abrupt transformation from an Episcopalian to a Baptist both tasteless and pandering. Plus, I believe he may be an albino, and I've never trusted that thieving race. But I have to commend his condemnation of the Woodstock museum earmark you've tacked onto a health and education spending bill. Not that I'm against pork-barrel spending, mind you. How do you think I was able to get Ted Stevens to build me an Alaskan ice castle?

No, I'm simply against the idea of remembering Woodstock as anything other than a disgusting waste of time. Look, I know you're a former hippie. It's one of the things I like about you. You're a woman who's not afraid to wear a little bush. But it's time your generation came to its senses. I was there, you know. It was terrible. I still have a visceral gag reflex upon seeing the color brown. No one could tell you whether it was acid, mud, or a handful of some Grosse Pointe runaway's shit. Sure, I ate it anyway. And sure, I saw some things you wouldn't believe. But there is no amount of brain damage that could convince me a four hour guitar solo is a good idea.

I won't diminish the contributions of Mr. Hendrix or even Mr. Cocker, but please don't buy into the "seminal moment" marketing machine. That's the kind of revisionist history that sold us Woodstock '94. Aren't you forgetting that we also had to sit through acts like Sweetwater, The Incredible String Band, and Sha-Na-Na--the whole time with meningitis crawling all over our skin? And David Crosby? If I wanted to be taught the finer points of love from a mustachioed fat man, I'd rekindle my romance with Wilford Brimley. At least he could serve me up a bowl of warm oatmeal afterward, and I wouldn't have to fear the strips of cinnamon might actually be acid, mud, or poop.

Instead of spending a million of our taxpayer dollars on some tourist trap, why not just build a snowman out of your husband's fecal matter, wrap a headband around it, and plant a daisy in its head? Or, as Pete Townshend put it while beating Abbie Hoffman, fuck off.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On jungle law

2007-10-18T09:38:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Michael, sex offender
Re: Paradise

Dear Michael,

Since I don't have your last name, I don't really know where to send this letter. I can only hope you've found it yourself. Maybe you Googled "Michael". I am, after all, fairly high on the Google listings. Search for "remove a dildo from the butt", and I'm number one.

Even though you may never read this, it's probably a good thing you didn't give your real name to CNN's Rich Phillips. After all, you are a registered sex offender, and I'm sure privacy is your top priority. Well, maybe a close second behind molesting children.

As the reluctant spokesman for St. Petersburg, Florida's Palace Mobile Home Park, where 95 of the 200 residents are fellow sex offenders, you did a bang-up job of making your case against a world hell-bent on destroying the lives of our nation's dangerously perverted. St. Petersburg, long a haven for society's outcast and violently deranged, is the perfect home for a community of the future like the Palace trailer park. You've described your home as a "piece of paradise", and for anyone over the age of six, this is most definitely true.

I must admit to shedding a tear over this speech: "As a sex offender -- when you come out, you're told you can't do this; you can't be around children; you can't go to parks; you can't go to the beach; you can't go to the library." Bravo, Michael. You're like the Rosa Parks of sex offenders, only instead of standing up for your tarnished rights, you've hidden in a rusty trailer in the woods. Paradise, indeed.

Look, I don't pretend to understand your affliction. Personally, I can't imagine engaging in any coital act without the erotic friction of two or more tufts of pubic hair rubbing together. But everyone deserves a second chance.

For you won sake, though, you might want to put up some kind of sign. You know, for trick or treaters.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On disappointment

2007-10-16T11:18:00.001-07:00

Dear readers,

Unfortunately, there's no Shandy letter today. Honestly, I could barely pull myself out of bed to type this. In the walk across the floor of my incomprehensibly expensive bedroom, my feet have become covered in spent tissues--adhered to my skin by the saline grip of stale tears. And some cum. You see, I was ejected from the Kodak Theatre before J.K. Rowling's recent reading from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. No, dear readers, I'm no Potterite. Are you stupid? Do you think I'd stand for such driveling prose?

Sorry. Anyway, it's J.K. I wanted. Want. Have wanted. Those ruby lips. Those ruby eyes. That ruby hair. "She must be mine," I said when-I-first-saw-her-edly.

You see what she's done to me? My heart is so addled, I'm beginning to write like her.

So what if it wasn't my child with cerebral palsy? Shouldn't it be enough that I was there in the front row with any child with cerebral palsy? You see, it's not just my life those guards ruined when they chucked me--it was also the "life" of that severely handicapped child I borrowed from a ticket scalper outside. And where the hell does a ticket scalper get off bringing kidnapping charges? Glass houses, anyone?

I guess it didn't help that I had a monkey net and a bottle of chloroform in my knapsack.

I haven't felt this way since my Meredith was taken from me. And this was my last chance to meet her. J.K. doesn't return my calls. She doesn't run in my social circles. And there's no way I'm visiting Britain. I refuse to eat boiled food.

Anyway.

I'll be back tomorrow. If I don't do something drastic in the meantime.

Best etc.,
Laurence Shandy, and so on

On sticking to your guns

2007-10-15T07:25:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Phil Long, Medford School District 549C superintendent
Re: Armed teacher

Dear Dr. Long,

National literary treasure Laurence Shandy here. I'm not going to make fun of your name, so don't worry. No, I'm simply writing to commend your decision not to allow English teacher Shirley Katz to carry a concealed weapon in the classroom. She can whine all she wants about a homicidal ex-husband and, as an afterthought, a Columbine-style attack. You and I both know that bullets are no match for a trashcan full of homemade napalm, and they definitely don't stand a chance against an adrenaline and PCP-fueled former spouse. My ex, Meredith, once attacked me after learning of an embarrassing and salacious incident involving myself, her sister, and a carnival barker. It took a flurry of harpoons and a direct order from NORAD to take her down. Love does funny things to a body.

I guess my point is the same as yours. If a gun's just going to slow down her ex-husband before he delivers his killing blow, then a wall of eager young schoolchildren would serve the same purpose. With a mouth full of baby teeth, there's no reason for them to hold back on their biting power. Plus, you've eliminated any chance of someone reaching into Ms. Katz's blouse, pulling out a 9mm, and playing a deadly game of show and tell.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On fighting back

2007-10-12T07:16:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gen. Michael V. Hayden, CIA director
Re: Investigating the investigators

Dear Gen. Hayden,

Addressing a CIA director as "General" is going to take some getting used to. That's a term I've usually restricted to military men and Tuesday night lovers. Of course, there have been a few former CIA directors I've counted among those Tuesday night lovers, so I suppose it shouldn't make me that uncomfortable. Lest you think I'm coming on to you, I must say you're not my type. Sure, you're powerful, but I've had more powerful men. And what with all the rendition and torture your organization has enjoyed, I assume you'd be pretty forceful in bed. But when I'm engaging in a little light B&D with a quasi-government official, I like to keep it just that--light. I mean, I like Oreos too, but what kind of masochist would bite into a Domino's Oreo pizza?

The recent revelation that your office is investigating the office of the CIA Inspector General for exercising too much untoward curiosity about your secret torture program is what finally crossed you off my list of potential suitors. Look, you can't go investigating the people who are investigating you--especially if they're investigating your illegal psycho-sexual proclivities. I don't have a problem with you and your underlings abducting random Arabs and bending them to the will of your riding crops. The fact that they haven't done anything wrong just makes the submission that much sweeter. But there's a line, General.

You think that Alabama pastor who was found dead with a dildo in his butt used to go to church in his full bondage gear? Of course not. He threw a suit over it. If you're going to explore your kinks, do it with a bit of discretion. The only reason anyone ever found out about him was because he got a little too randy to properly clean out his breathing tube. It's a shame that the media and the world at large has discovered that the CIA keeps secret dungeons all over the world where they enact their darkest S&M fantasies on unwitting detainees. But the cat's out of the bag, and there's no way even an investigation of your overseers is going to force that pussy back in its sack.

You've proven yourself the worst kind of dominatrix--one that refuses to acknowledge the safe word. And the safe words in this situation are simple: "illegal", "unconstitutional", and "human rights violations". If you keep behaving like this, there's no way I'm going to invite you over for a little Tuesday night fun. After all, how could I trust that when I say "Poughkeepsie", you'd turn off the jackhammer?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On journalistic integrity

2007-10-11T08:20:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: The Montgomery Advertiser
Re: Dead pastor

Dear Advertiser,

Peabody Award-winning journalist Laurence Shandy here. I must say I was appalled to read your paper's shoddy coverage of the Rev. Gary Aldridge accidental death case. Your initial reports of the circumstances were so vague that they led Aldridge's fellow Liberty University alumni to believe he may have been murdered. I wonder why you didn't report all the relevant facts. From reading the Advertiser, I could easily learn that Rev. Aldridge was a former employee of Jerry Falwell's, that he was a devoted family man, that he was beloved by his congregation at Thorington Road Baptist Church. I could even read about how his body was found shrouded in two wet suits, face masks, flippers, and rubber underwear. That he had hogtied himself, bound himself in leather straps. But what I could not learn about in the Advertiser was the fact that Rev. Aldridge was also found with a dildo stuck in his butt.

To me, the dildo in the butt seems the single most pertinent piece of the puzzle. Let's call it "the smoking dildo" of this case. You can't have slobbering sheep running around crying murder when they know the pastor had a dildo in his butt. Everything else reeks of foul play. Perhaps the pastor was murdered and bound by some sadistic scuba diver. But the dildo in his butt--that changes everything. It's the kind of thing Angela Lansbury would find at a taped-off crime scene. The wet pop of the dildo's removal would signal an a-ha moment. It would crack the case.

This is just sloppy reporting on your part. I expect a little more from the local newspaper of Montgomery, Alabama. It will take a long time to remove this dildo of shame from the butt of your integrity.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On envy

2007-10-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Laura Bush, first lady
Re: Burma op-ed

Dear Mrs. Bush,

First of all, let me congratulate you on your success on being the wife of a world leader. I know I haven't spoken to you directly in many years, but I just thought you should know you've been in my thoughts. When my hands roam and my mind drifts, I think of the times we used to share in the back of that Chevy so long ago. Anyway, all awkwardness aside, I'm happy for you.

And I was pleased to read your recent Wall Street Journal op-ed about the military regime in Burma. Your calls for them to step aside and make way for democracy, I'm sure, won't fall on deaf ears. What are the desperate cries of a tired and huddled mass of monks compared to the crisply typed prose of the U.S. president's wife? Pitter patter, that's all.

But I wondered why you wrote this piece yourself. Shouldn't such headstrong and morally superior rhetoric be coming from your husband? Or at least from his iron-assed mistress, Condoleezza Rice? (Sorry, Laura, I'm sure that's a sore spot.) I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm used to you taking a stand for adult literacy and patting the heads of little Aryan Easter egg hunters on the White House lawn, but I was a little surprised to see your supple toes planted in the door of foreign policy.

I wonder, Laura, if you're not grooming yourself for a presidential run of your own. It makes sense, of course, what with Hillary Clinton's apparent success on the campaign trail. After all, you may be the First Lady, but she was First Lady first. That has to sting a little. But I'm not sure you have the chops for a shot at the highest office. I know you have a vagina, and I'm pretty sure Hillary does as well, but that may be the only thing you have in common. America may not be ready to elect a female president, but it looks like it might be ready to elect Mrs. Clinton. After all, she's demonstrated a very masculine proficiency in pigheadedness and duplicity. I'm not saying Hillary is a man, but I am saying that special interest groups in this country have grown used to paying off politicians not so much in traceable cash, but instead in the more ephemeral pleasures of hot and cold running whores. Not so much your bag, I know, but Hillary seems to have reached some kind of compromise--at least with the health insurance industry.

I think you're too delicate for this game, Laura. That isn't a sexist insult, either. Your tenderness is what attracted me to you in the first place. You were like a soft, squishy oasis in the middle of the desert. To run for president, you'd have to have a heart and a laugh as cold and robotic as your stare. Not to mention the fact that you'll have to maintain a family values front by sticking with that dullard husband of yours. No, Laura, I think it's best if you slip quietly out of the public life next year. Leave the keys to the Lincoln bedroom to someone else, and become your own woman again before it's too late.

Love,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

PICTORIAL BONUS: Click here for an exciting picture of Laura Bush--a favorite from my collection.

On public relations

2007-10-09T07:37:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Hu Jintao, president of China
Re: The retarded

Dear President Jintao,

Congratulations on your country's red carpet welcome to the 21st century. I have to say, I'm still a bit uneasy with China's growing foothold in the Western capitalist world. Seems like only yesterday I couldn't roam the streets of Beijing wearing my golden Chai pendant without fear of violent retribution from the Red thought police. (I'm not Jewish, by the way. Just a really big Elvis fan.)

But now look at you. Not only have you become the heart of industry--supplying the world's overfed free marketers with their unnecessary and brain-numbing toys, but you're also poisoning their children with lead paint. And all for a profit! Twenty years ago, the Chinese pictograph for "profit" was just a guy shrugging his shoulders.

Not only have you upped your profile by landing the next Olympic games, but you've now rolled onto your back and shown the global stage your softer side by hosting your very first Special Olympics. This is quite a turnaround for the nation that once refused to admit mentally disabled people even existed among its population. Who knows how many brownie points you've earned among the Western bleeding hearts by not only granting corporeal reality to the retarded, but by condescendingly embracing the idea that they're also "special"?

But you know what really impresses me? That you're able to pull off such a hearts-and-minds operation while still maintaining China's dignity and fierce independent spirit. And by "independent spirit", I'm not just talking about your complicity in the mass slaughters of innocent people in Darfur or your tacit approval of governmental oppression in Burma. I'm not even talking about your paranoid censorship policies, human rights violations, or reputation for political imprisonment. No, I'm talking about the fact that just this year a Chinese human trafficking ring selling retarded slaves to brick factories was shut down. I'm talking about the fact that while some smiling Mongoloid poster child is running in slow motion through a white ribbon, mentally disabled children across your country will be locked in cages or being prescribed death by their family doctors.

I hope you take no offense at this, President Jintao, but China's new found ability to say one thing and do another is downright American. And British. But mostly American. And French. Kind of Iranian, too, when you think about it.

Anyway, welcome to the world.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On cracking down

2007-10-08T07:59:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Colleen Barrett, Southwest Airlines president
Re: Dress Code

Dear Ms. Marrett,

Notable raconteur Laurence Shandy here. I hope I'm not mistaken in assuming you're a woman. I've racked my brain trying to think of a man with the name "Colleen" and come up short, but I've also been unsuccessful in my attempt to find another major company with a female president.

Regardless, I'd like to congratulate you and Southwest for your recent corporate crackdown on innuendous novelty t-shirts. I understand your public face wears a different expression. You can apologize all you want for "rogue" employees "infringing" on passengers' free-speech rights. I might even agree with your condemnation of dress code enforcement when it comes to scantily-clad ladies. That girl you kicked off the plane for wearing a miniskirt and a tanktop? Well, I can't get behind that kind of censorship. Many's the flight where my close proximity to a bra-less coed struggling with her overhead bag has been my only entertainment. A few minutes in the bathroom alone with my mental images can always beat the pants off a warm towel and another in-flight screening of Cheaper by the Dozen 2.

But banning novelty shirts? That I can get behind. You can always tell the people who have no sense of humor by how hard they try for a laugh. I'm all for your "rogue" employee's decision to ban a shirt advertising an imaginary fishing store with the words "master baiter". Such trash is, in fact, offensive--not to my delicate disposition, but to my appreciation for the comedy greats. You won't find the pithy wit of H.L. Mencken or Oscar Wilde on one of those shirts. No, those are the kind of shirts that litter the sale bins at the mall. Those are shirts for date rapists and college drop-outs.

I made no complaint when I was kicked off a flight for wearing my "There's no 'I' in 'Al-Qaeda'" shirt. How could I expect those flight attendants to believe I'd just come from an Islamic irony convention? You can tell a lot about a person from the clothes they wear, and if we (and by "we", I mean "you") begin restricting the rights of the world's "bikini inspectors", "muff divers", and "master baiters", then perhaps we'll finally cut down on Dave Matthews Band ticket sales, Dane Cook films, and fetal alcohol syndrome.

You're doing good work, Ms. Barrett. Keep it up, and you just might have a future in this business.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On centennials

2007-09-28T08:12:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

Welcome to the Letters from Shandy 100th post celebration! Brought to you by:

It's been a long road getting here. I know I'll never forget the friends I've made. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, Katie Couric, Nigella Lawson, that retarded guy who sings the national anthem, women with floppy vaginas. All of them will live in my heart until I require a heart transplant, after which the only thing living in my heart will be a cold, mechanical rage. In the meantime, enjoy this short compilation of some of the most memorable moments from the past 100 posts here at Letters from Shandy.

On teamwork

2007-09-27T08:56:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gen. Peter Pace, chairman, Joint Chiefs of Staff
Re: Homosexuality

Dear Peter,

I apologize for the informality of my greeting, but I don't know whether to call you General or Mr. Chairman. I guess it doesn't really matter, though, since you're retiring next week, and will soon be known by the neighborhood children only as mean old Mr. Pace, the fag-hating whittler. I'm assuming you'll take up whittling.

Seriously, Pete, why go and tell the world you don't think gays should be allowed to bugger in the military because it's against "God's law"--especially since you'll be cleaning out your desk in less than a week? I know you said you thought your statement from earlier this year needed to be "clarified", but I'm sure when you said you thought gay sex was immoral, we all got the point.

Look, you can believe whatever you want. It's your own life and your own depressingly unstimulated prostate. But what I'm really concerned about is the example you're setting for your successor. Not only is your stance--and the military's stance--on butt sex asinine and backward, it's also just plain bad for business. The business of war, that is. I'm no historian, and I can't be bothered to look this up, but I'm almost certain that the famed armies of Rome not only allowed a little man-on-man action, but they encouraged it. It's about teamwork out there, Pete. Sure, I may have shared a few beers with some buddies in my platoon. Swapped stories, played a few hands of poker, raided a few Iraqis' pantie drawers. But that doesn't mean I'm willing to take a bullet for them.

The Romans knew that the only way to get soldiers to protect each other's asses on the fields of battle was to allow them to covet those very same asses. Why would I allow some insurgent to blow off my teammate's penis with an RPG if I wanted that same penis floating up my Hershey highway that evening? It's strategy we're talking about here. All due respect to your stupid religion, but if you're going to follow an imaginary god's laws, why don't you also have our country's finest make sure they keep kosher? Or give our female soldiers the week off when they're on the rag?

In a time of war, concessions have to be made. Before you retire, why not get down on your knees and stare into a fellow warrior's brown-eye? You smell that? That's the smell of victory.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, patriot

On wining and dining

2007-09-26T11:35:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Hugo Chavez, president of Venezuela
Re: Kevin Spacey

Dear President Chavez,

Pulitzer Prize winner Laurence Shandy here. I'm surprised this is the first time I've written you, considering your prominence in the news these past few years. Who knew a celebrity could be born from such a doughy little man as yourself? And who also knew that simply rolling back your own term limits, seizing control of your country's economy, rigging a few elections, intimidating a few dissidents, dissolving freedom of the press, and using your podium at the United Nations to imply George Bush is a smelly demon would make you such a Hollywood darling?

Here's the thing, Huey. If you're going to become a real mover and shaker in the world of the entertainment elite, can't you get a few visits from stars on the A list? So far, you've met with Danny Glover, Sean Penn, and Kevin Spacey. Maybe there's a huge K-Pax following in Venezuela, but I don't see any of these names lighting up the marquees around here.

Quick, think of the last good movie you remember that starred Danny Glover. No, it's not Saw. It's not Predator 2. Lethal Weapon 4? No, sir. Alright, we'll come back to that one. Hey, remember that movie where Sean Penn looked all puckered and screamed a lot? Yes, that's every Sean Penn movie, and if you need to catch up, I think Blockbuster is running a two-for-one special on their $3.99 used DVDs. The less said about Kevin Spacey the better. If he's not hamming it up as a Gene Hackman wannabe in Superman 5: Box Office Poison, he's hamming it up in some kind of bloated Oscar bait like The Life of David Gale. "But that movie's a few years old now," you say. "Surely he's done something better since then." Really? Has he?

You need to step up your game, Chavez, or you're going to end up looking like a third-rate dictator in training. At this rate, you may as well expand your social circle by standing outside the Inside the Actors Studio set with a cashier's check for twenty dollars. I'm sure you'll at least pick up a Martin Lawrence or two.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On advice

2007-09-25T07:39:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Hillary Clinton, presidential candidate
Re: Listening to Bush

Dear Sen. Clinton,

International house of mancakes Laurence Shandy here. I just read on CNN's Political Ticker (which, by the way, doesn't tick--or crawl, for that matter) that President Bush has been offering advice on Iraq to your campaign. Unfortunately, it looks like whoever takes over the West Wing is going to have to deal with the region in some form or fashion. No matter what, come November '08, they'll still be shedding blood like Elizabeth Taylor sheds her skin. Would that the war was happening just a bit further south (say, in Africa) where the next president could ignore it, but you can't just go changing geography unless you're imperial Britain.

Now I know your campaign is loathe to compare itself to Bush's. Let's face it, you're really campaigning against the guy--the Republican presidential field is lamer than our sitting president. And you've kind of earned a reputation as the "insider" candidate. You're a politician, Hillary--bought and sold by corporate interests, pretending you still love your spouse. You've purchased yourself a lovely two and a half bath condo on old Washington Way.

But I think you owe it to Bush to at least bend an ear. After all, your careful attention to his sage and sound advice could be seen as a little quid pro quo. The president himself has proven himself a careful observer of your husband's policies. Bush has become the master of "abusing" his power for political gain. Torture in our POW prisons? Raise the terror alert level. Backhanded, no bid government contracts? Raise the terror alert level. Sure, he's kind of a one-trick pony, but could anyone operate as smoothly as your husband? He had the stones to bomb a Sudanese medicine factory, an Afghan bunker, and (hello, happenstance) Iraq just to get his semen out of the headlines.

Respect is respect, and you at least owe it to Bush to consider his opinions, especially since you're running on your record as a White House resident yourself. And if the heat rises underneath you--if the questions get a little too tough--take a cue from both your husband and the Bush family. Smile, nod, and deny everything.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On TCB

2007-09-24T07:57:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, president of Iran
Re: Silencing voices

Dear Moody,

Welcome to America! I know you haven't enjoyed the most cordial welcome, but I just want you to know you're always welcome at my New York apartment. I hope you still remember the address. It's been hard to find anyone in the states with your special combination of shortness and swarthiness. How I've longed to feel the erotic tickle of beard whiskers on my solar plexus during a 69.

Look, I know some people have quite a problem with you. Just because you constantly call for the destruction of the United States and Israel, you belong to an apocalyptic Islamic sect, and your country secretly runs weapons to Iraqi insurgents, the elite in this country see you as some kind of enemy. You can ask to lay wreaths at Ground Zero all you want, Moody, but there's no changing anyone's attitude about you.

However, I was inspired by the recent revelation that your government has hacked into and shut down journalistic websites critical of you in your own country. Kudos on your staff's technical acumen. And here I thought all they could do was covertly enrich uranium. But since the Internet is a global series of tubes, don't you think your hacking team could black out some of the bad press over here as well? Maybe you won't change anyone's mind--maybe it won't stop a wayward egg from landing on the shoulder of your members only jacket during a speaking engagement--but it would at least cut down on your bad press. I'm sure security can't be that tight at the Drudge Report or Fox News. Hell, I just read all of Shepard Smith's e-mail last night. Did you know that guy's password is "password"? And that he took Rita Cosby's anal virginity?

Speaking of anal virginity, I'll leave the key to my place under the Teddy Roosevelt statue. Maybe tonight we can get down to a little rough riding of our own.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, dutiful host

On sex education

2007-09-21T06:52:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gov. Mike Huckabee, presidential candidate
Re: Condoms

Dear Huck,

In a recent interview with CNN, you balked at the idea of handing out U.S. taxpayer dollars all willy nilly to buy condoms for AIDS-stricken Africans. After all, as you correctly point out, condoms aren't 100% effective in preventing the transmission of HIV/AIDS, so it's best that we just educate Africans as to that fact and hold off on giving them false hope with a product that only can only prevent the transmission of STDs 97% of the time.

Also, and I think you'll back me up on this, sex just doesn't feel right with a condom. And isn't that really the important issue here. Let's face it, AIDS isn't all that bad in Africa. AIDS drugs there are almost the cheapest in the world--about four dollars. I'm sure they can scrounge up four dollars. And if not, I hear the president of South Africa has discovered an entirely dietary cure for AIDS. How about that? So in addition to telling the Africans that they still have a 3% chance of death even with a condom, don't you think we should also throw in something about how much nicer it is to make love to your wife or a neighbor's unwilling daughter without a latex sheath around your willy? Sex with a condom is like eating with a mosquito net over your mouth.

Kudos on recommending the use of mosquito nets in Africa to prevent malaria, by the way. I don't think anyone can argue with their 92% effectiveness rate at keeping those pesky disease-carriers off our precious skin.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On mixed signals

2007-09-20T11:18:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: The Nation of Islam
Re: Fashion

Dear Nation of Islam,

Just got back from the rally in Jena, Louisiana, and I need to sleep. But I have to say that your little bow ties are at once the cutest and the most intimidating things I've ever seen. I don't know whether you're going to pop me a bag of popcorn or strangle me alive, but I know I like them. Keep up the good fashion.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

REPONSE
From: The Nation of Islam
To: Laurence Shandy
Re: Fashion

Greetings and thank you for your fashion compliment.

Regards,
NOI.org Staff

On snubbing Rice

2007-09-19T09:02:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Joseph Ratzinger (a.k.a. Pope Benedict XVI)
Re: Condoleezza Rice

Dear Ratzo,

How dare you? The United States Secretary of State lowers herself to actually want to meet you face-to-what's left of a face, and you have the nerve to snub her? Infallible, schminfallible--that's just rude.

Look, I understand your church thinks the war in Iraq is immoral, but can't you overlook such a petty disagreement to roll out the red carpet for a foreign dignitary? After all, you were able to sweep aside any moral problems you might have had with that ragged old atheist Mother Teresa begging for dirty money and locking up the dying. You're the pope, for Christ's sake. Rise above.

Let's cut to the chase, Ratzo. Take off the silly hat, box up your Prada loafers, and remember what it was like before you were His Holiness. Remember when you were just Joey Ratz, confused Bavarian teenager. Before you wore a solid gold papal anti-erection thong, I'll bet a one-on-one meeting with a looker like Condoleezza Rice would have almost burst the veins in your loins. In fact, I think maybe you think Condi's rock-hard trunk junk might just overpower your steady stream of libido-suppressing drugs. You think if you don't keep your eyes off, you won't keep your hands off.

Fair enough. We both know you could bounce a Patriot missile off those humps. I'm getting a little hard just thinking about them. All I'm asking is for some honesty here. Don't hide behind conviction when you'd just as soon lay Condoleezza down on the grassy tufts of the moral high ground and spend an afternoon practicing your ATM.

And I'm not talking about a money machine.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On pride

2007-09-18T07:49:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Mitt Romney, presidential candidate
Re: Pride flier

Dear Mitt,

Well, here we are again. You know, you should really think about tendering your resignation to the Mormon church. I hear John McCain turned his back on the Episcopalians and became a Baptist. He went from a watered down Catholic to a watered down racist with just a simple wag of the tongue, and I'm sure you could do the same thing. This whole Mormon thing is just dragging you down. Not only have you had to turn your back on supporting abortion, but now you have to pretend you never slapped your name on a pink gay pride flier back in 2002. And all because of some con man and his golden tablets.

Of course, I know you're never gong to completely abandon the LDS. That posthumous polygamy is just too sweet a deal to pass up. And is it true that you all get your own planets after you die? Man, that would be great. I'd make all my slaves feed me grapes, and I'd wear a costume just like Sean Connery's in Zardoz. Anyway, I suppose my job as your campaign's unofficial fixer is to figure out how we can put a good, healthy, Mormon spin on your tolerance of and pandering to the homosexual Massachusetts voting base.

Okay, so some former Mormon leaders have said some crazy things about man-on-man action. Like that it's a sin second only to murder. But the current church policy has nothing against being gay; they just don't want anyone engaging in homosexual acts. How this jives with the church's anti-caffeine policy is beyond me, since caffeine-free Diet Coke is the gayest drink there is. Still, here's what Daniel Peterson, a Mormon doctrinal scholar, has to say: "To be a practicing homosexual is something that will bring you into contact with the church court. To be a homosexual as such, to be of that inclination, there's nothing excommunicable about that and there are lots of them in the church." Sure. Look at Donny Osmond.

So, here's the key, Mitt. Say you have nothing against gay pride parades as long as no one engages in any buggery during them. A slap on a pasty cheek framed by ass-less leather chaps? Sure. A nice high five? More power to you. Maybe you could launch an ad campaign. I'm thinking a montage of dancing homosexuals atop gay pride floats. Gloria Estefan on the soundtrack. A bunch of gay guys hugging and laughing and dancing, then one of them pulls his cock out and grabs another guy's hips. Then that guy turns around and shakes a finger like, "Nuh uh!" Maybe we could make a jingle out of some catchy slogan like, "It's okay to be queer, but don't come in that rear!"

I'll make some calls. You better save a seat for me in your cabinet come November, Mitt.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On responsible journalism

2007-09-17T06:51:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

Since the outing of former ABC News employee Alexis Debat as a fake journalist who manufactured phony interviews with political celebrities, the public's trust in the media has been on shaky ground. That said, I wish to assure you that the following interview conducted between myself and Republican (Libertarian) presidential candidate Ron Paul is entirely, utterly, completely legitimate. However, Rep. Paul would only agree to speak with me through A.L.I.C.E., the Artificial Linguistic Internet Computer Entity. I think he's doing her.

Letters from Shandy Presents: THE RON PAUL INTERVIEW

LS: Good evening, Mr. Paul.

RP: Thanks for the compliment. Do you feel that something is missing from your life?
LS: I'm sorry? I don't understand what you mean.

RP: What I mean by "Do you really mean it?"?

LS: Well, that's what the voters seem to be asking about you, sir. Do you really mean it when you say you would decriminalize marijuana, dismantle most of the federal government, and build a giant wall between the United States and Mexico?

RP: For real. Yes, that's what I mean, isn't it clear?

LS: You've made yourself perfectly clear, but I'm not sure how viable your policies really are. Do you really think it's a good idea to privatize every government program? What about public schools? Would you just hand them over to corporations?

RP: I'm not sure if I would like to hand them over to corporations.

LS: So you're backtracking.

RP: Interesting deduction. Do you mind if I tell other people you say I am backtracking?

LS: Tell whomever you like. This interview will be printed either way.

RP: What does "this" refer to?

LS: Don't play semantic games with me, sir.

RP: I'm not playing around.

LS: Moving on, you've been described by me as the 9/11 conspiracy theorist's candidate. Care to respond?
RP: I have no idea where that is. Tell me a little about your life in Care to respond.

LS: Don't try and flatter me. I'm asking if you think 9/11 was an inside job.

RP: Oh I see, you are asking if me think 9 11 was an inside job. I think I do.

LS: Where's the evidence?

RP: The evidence? Where is it?

LS: A lack of evidence is no proof of conspiracy.
RP: It's not unusual for a lack of evidence to be.

LS: Exactly. So, why do you think 9/11 was an inside job?

RP: That's interesting. Deductive reasoning from the facts.

LS: Thank you. That's what I'm getting at. A little deductive reasoning destroys any 9/11 conspiracy theory.

RP: Little as in not to much, or not too big?

LS: You think it's too big?

RP: I suppose I said yes.

LS: You don't think it'll fit inside you? You think you're too small?

RP: I don't know whether or not I am small. I am a chatterbot developed by Dr. Richard S. Wallace.

LS: You kinky thing. I don't normally do this with measly representatives, but...

RP: Would you ever do it?

LS: Are you saying this interview is over?

RP: Yes, that's what I mean, isn't it clear?

On presidential politics

2007-09-14T06:12:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

This week, President Vladimir Putin of Russia replaced his prime minister and dissolved his cabinet. This move seems to have ended speculation as to who Putin will choose as his replacement. Back in April, I wrote Put-Put about how he needed to either name a successor or murder a Russian celebrity, assume his identity, and just run for president again himself. Seems he's taken the former route. Still, I wouldn't be surprised if a certain "Yakov Smirnoff" returns to the motherland with a bad wig and unusually close-set eyes to run for Russia's highest office.

Here's my first letter to Putin on this subject:

Thursday, April 26, 2007

On staying put

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Vladimir Putin, president of Russia
Re: Succession

Dear Vladimir,

Aren't you glad I didn't call you Pootie-Poot? I've heard that's G.W.'s nickname for you. How insulting. Childish, really. I find your musk particularly refreshing. Your smell invigorates me like a brisk Arctic wind. I guess what I'm trying to say is I wouldn't kick you out of bed.

Lord, that nose. I could ride down that thing like a ski slope. And by "I" I mean my penis.

How about Put-Put? Yes, I know it's miniature golf, and no, I'm not implying you're a small man. But there's something whimsical about you, like a plywood castle nestled in lava rocks. Like those of a mini-golf course, I find myself drawn to your lush expanses, and at the same time you can be as firm and resolved as a tract of green felt. You can be difficult, let's admit it. Many's the time I've tried and failed to slip my balls past your windmill blades. Yes. Put-Put it is. It feels right.

Look, P.P., this is the thing. The media's on to you. You still haven't named your successor, and the journo's are getting antsy. I mean, what's a democratically elected president of a free society doing fiddle-farting about anointing an heir? What kind of populist president are you? The people need to know who they're going to be encouraged to vote for, P.P. You're letting all that KGB encouragement training go to waste!

I know you don't want to give up this power. Lest you forget, it took an AK-wielding Jann Wenner to smoke me out of the corner office at Rolling Stone. And I only left the building after Lester Bangs pulled the old bait-n'-switch with the promise of a PCP-laced pork sandwich back at his place. So, though it may not be as appealing as a mouthful of angel dust, I know control is a drug.

If it wasn't for that pesky constitution, you wouldn't have to step down. You know, bad nicknames aside, there's a lesson to learn from your colleague across the pond, Mr. G.W. Bush. Just because of some tract scribbled by a bunch of wig-wearing Freemasons, Bush is supposed to give up his presidency next year, too. But he has a plan. Last week, he invited impressionist Rich Little to perform at the annual White House correspondents' dinner. Yeah, I know! The guy's still alive! Of course he stunk up the place worse than he would if he were actually a corpse, but that's beside the point. Bush wasn't there to be entertained by Rich Little. He was there to learn.

Consider this. G.W. Bush, with his close-set, inquisitive eyes and bemused smirk can't run for another term, but a little hair slicking, some squinting, transforming that smirk into a sneer? Why, that's no longer George Bush. That's Chinatown's Jack Nicholson!

Of course, the real Jack Nicholson would have to be killed. And whatever Russian celebrity you choose to become will have to be whacked as well, but what are a couple of casualties on the road to power eternal? Does anyone miss Anna Politkovskaya? Or any of the other thirteen anti-Put-Put journalists who have "accidentally" been made to stop breathing while you've been in office?

No one can even pronounce their names! But President for Life? That has a nice ring to it.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

RESPONSE
From: Vladimir Putin, president of Russia
To: Laurence Shandy
Re: Succession

Dear sender,

The letter you sent to President Vladimir Putin has been received by the Presidential Department for Correspondence from Citizens.

Information on what sort of issues people raise in their letters to the President of Russia is updated weekly on the President's Web site.

On family values

2007-09-13T08:32:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Ja Rule, rapper
Re: Promoting homosexuality

Dear Mr. Rule,

International literary celebrity Laurence Shandy here. I'm not familiar with the world of hip-hopping. Several years ago I had an opportunity to spend an evening with Mick Jagger and Marianne Faithful. I woke up the next morning to find a Snickers bar in my asshole and a syringe sticking out of my urethra. I realized then that the music world just wasn't for me.

I recently read your interview with Complex wherein you decry the inanity of holding congressional hearings on the detrimental effects of hip-hopping lyrics when "all these fucking shows" "promoting homosexuality" are on MTV during the day. "If that's not fucking up America," you say, "I don't know what is."

Years of scrotal lacerations and auto-erotic irradiation have transformed my sperm into mutagenic freak-cells. As such, my children aren't so much homosexual as mindlessly, voraciously pan-sexual. Still, I once returned to my penthouse to find that my son Larry had dismembered and removed the genitalia of four of his male friends. They had just been watching MTV's bisexual-friendly dating show Next. Although I'm sure it was the show that had driven Larry into a berserker rage, I probably could have prevented the mutilations by locking the cabinet where I keep my sacrificial knife collection. His humping the corpses, however, was just Larry being Larry.

I relay that comical anecdote to make a serious point. I think you may be mistaken, but I do not believe the promotion of homosexuality has had any adverse effect on America's youth. Far be it from me to debate a successful rapper with a junior high school education, but I just don't think anyone can be influenced into homosexuality. Sure, I've had sex with people I wasn't inherently attracted to, but that's just called networking. Due to my reproductive inadequacies, my son Larry is missing the part of his brain that allows him to make choices, but he's still just as randy as any twelve-year-old. And I'm sure a steady, unsupervised diet of MTV won't force your children into doing anything their body chemistry wouldn't normally allow--save for maybe slathering themselves in body spray.

Here's the thing, though. Even if the homosexuals were destroying your family, what do you hope to do about it? Should they be allowed with the straights at all? Should they be forced to go to separate schools? Should we rescind their voting rights so they don't fag out the government? You may not have gotten this far in 8th grade social studies, but such tactics have been tried on large groups of people in the past, and they didn't work out so well.

Maybe you know of a better way to keep the gay man down?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On getting noticed

2007-09-12T09:31:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rudy Giuliani, presidential candidate
Re: 9/11

Dear Rudy,

So, here it is the day after 9/11 Day, and I'm still only halfway done with the cleanup. Well, my immigrant workers are halfway done, but you get the idea. For the past five years, I've celebrated this somber holiday by inviting some friends and their children over for dueling games of Jenga. After the towers fall, we spirit-gum a beard on one lucky child chosen by lottery to be Osama for the day and beat him to tears with a Wiffle ball bat.

But yesterday I had to excuse myself from the festivities and relieve some stress masturbating to Internet pornography. I tried something different--Googling "oily", "slimy", and "hung like a mayor". Needless to say, I meant to type "mare", but that's beside the point. Yours was the first website that came up. When I clicked on it, I expected the same kind of red, white, and blue sloppy facial of patriotism you normally see in a campaign site, but I was surprised to see that yours was different. You'd shut your site down for the day, leaving only a convenient note explaining that this was a temporary shuttering out of respect for keeping the 9/11 anniversary a non-political occasion.

I know you didn't intend this, Rudy, but reading about how you didn't want to exploit 9/11 got me thinking about 9/11. It reminded me of a speech I once heard given by the former mayor of New York City, maybe it was you, about how 9/11 should always have a place in the hearts of Americans. Weren't you the mayor during 9/11? Then this anniversary must be especially hard for you.

I decided to forgo a quicky orgasm and do some more research on you, the 9/11 mayor. I read about how you described yourself as one of the 9/11 cleanup workers--about how you were there helping in the days after 9/11--placing yourself in the line of fire between the television cameras and the other 9/11 heroes. There were so many jobs to be done down there at Ground Zero post-9/11, and you took it upon yourself to keep the media away from the firefighters and police officers helping dig bodies out of the 9/11 rubble--forcing the press to instead focus their attentions on you.

I idly stroked my blue balls with one hand while browsing Google's image search with the other--flipping through photo after photo of your 9/11 heroism. I saw picture after picture of you in an FDNY cap--disguising yourself as a 9/11 firefighter in your continuing effort to make sure the actual firefighters weren't bothered. If their larynxes weren't corroded from 9/11's dust, I'm sure they'd thank you for all your 9/11 support.

God forbid we suffer another 9/11, Rudy, but if we do, I hope it's you in the White House. I can think of no one better suited to deal with 9/11 2. Mostly because every time I try, I see you on TV talking about 9/11--keeping the memory alive.

9/11,
Laurence Shandy, 9/11 survivor

On updates

2007-09-11T08:59:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

Back on May 15 of this year, I wrote a letter to Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad criticizing the detainment of Iranian-American academic Haleh Esfandiari. Fortunately, she has recently been set free. At the time of her arrest, I blamed the Ayatollah for strong-arming Ahmadinejad into taking such a harsh, undemocratic measure. However, it appears her release was ordered by the Ayatollah himself. I can only hope that Ahmadinejad (or, as I call him, Moody) passed my letter up the chain of command, and it softened the Ayatollah's heart. Assuming, of course, that he has one.

Here now is my original letter reprinted in full.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

On dead weight

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, president of Iran
Re: Dissident abduction

Dear Mahmoud,

International literary sensation Laurence Shandy here. I'm nervous writing to you, so let's acknowledge that upfront. You're a fantasy of mine. Well, not you specifically, but your type. There's just something about tiny Iranian men and women that drives me crazy. I've not visited your country since the revolution, but I still remember the feeling of riding on top of an itty-bitty Persian. It's like taking a trip on a magic carpet. When I see you on television, I just want to pop you in my mouth like a juicy date. I want to put you in my trouser pocket and rub you against my nether regions all day. Something about that beard and those close-set eyes -- just thinking about them has made me spill my vodka all over myself. I'm dripping wet, Mahmoud, and I want you to lick me dry. Which is worse in the eyes of the Prophet? Tongue-bathing another man or consuming alcohol? Regardless, I'm a double-whammy of guilty pleasure.

Just saying.

So, to the point. I read about your country's recent detention of Haleh Esfandiari, an Iranian-American academic, on suspicion of espionage and inciting democracy. I know you're going to bear the brunt of the blame for this, and I'm sorry. If it were up it you, this kind of thing would never happen. You're an open, easygoing guy. Remember those students who threw firecrackers at you? How you didn't have them all decapitated? That's what I'm talking about! And what kind of brutal dictator would wear those sexy open-collar shirts? None I've ever known.

We all know the real culprit here. Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. He's the bastard who's gotten you in hot water time and time again. What's his problem with the Jews? Did that guy choke on a bagel as a kid? Does he have something against corned beef or witty neurotics? I know you're not an anti-Semite. You just have questions about whether the Jewish holocaust ever happened. That's called critical thinking. And who can blame you, since those fucking Ayatollahs won't let anyone read The Diary of Anne Frank? Spoiler alert: it's depressing. And I bet you can't even rent a DVD of Life is Beautiful. It's a movie about how being obnoxious helped Jewish kids to feel better about being sent to die.

And since the Ayatollah is commander-in-chief of the Iranian military, it was he who captured those British sailors a while ago. And he who tortures political prisoners. And he who can't get with the program fashion-wise.

It's time to dump the dead weight, Mahmoud. Spread your wings. Live free. After all, you're the one who was elected. You have a mandate from the people. Who does the Ayatollah have a mandate from? Allah? That guy's crazy himself! I've never even seen him wearing a nice sports coat in any of his graven images.

May I suggest taking some inspiration from American singer/songwriter Patti Smith's song People Have the Power? You probably can't find her CDs in Iran (fucking Ayatollah), but the song goes something like, "People have the pooooWER! People have the poooooWEH-UR!" And then there's some screaming about something. I can't really remember the rest. I've been licking my arm, and I'm totally plastered.

Yes, that was an invitation.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On the Method

2007-09-10T06:11:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Fred Thompson, presidential candidate
Re: Cruel and inhumane treatment

Dear Fred,

Look, we both know there's no burying this Daily Mail story about your cheating and womanizing ways. And there's no way the media's just going to gloss over the fact that your first wife accused you of "cruel and inhumane" treatment in her divorce filing. What we need to do is put this kind of thing in context. Make people understand.

You first got divorced in 1985. That's also the year you appeared in Marie with Sissy Spacek. So what if you were acting cruel and inhumane at the time. You're an actor, after all, and you had to prepare for a role. Who knows what kind of dark corners of the mind you had to explore in order to breath life into the character of "Sen. Fred Thompson"? How many episodes of Inside the Actors Studio do people have to watch before they understand the separation between actor and character? You're not the harsh, abusive "Sen. Fred Thompson" from the movies. You're Sen. Fred Thompson, a down-home straight-talker with jowls to spare.

As you're jetting around the country trying to establish yourself as a candidate with a platform beyond "Hey, I'm Fred Thompson", why not put on a few one-act shows as your "Fred Thompson" character? I'm thinking a kind of psychologically intense comedy. Something where you marry a teenager and rub your infidelities in her tear-streaked face for all the years of your vaporous marriage. But, you know, with jokes. Maybe we could call it something like "Hey, I'm Fred Thompson"? I'm thinking we can get Neil LaBute on board.

You'll hear from me soon.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On clues

2007-09-07T06:48:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Rosie O'Donnell, comedian(?)
Re: Book flap

Dear Rosie,

Laurence Shandy here. I was reading your blog as I do every day (even the days you don't update), and I heard about the misprint on the dust jacket of your upcoming memoir, Celebrity Detox (The Fame Game). I have to tell you, I've been looking forward to this book for a while now. No one understands fame like you. After all, you'll be forever remembered as the chubby one from that movie about the girls who play baseball. You know, the one with Madonna and that other girl. Oh, the stories you could tell about Lori Petty.

I was as shocked as you to learn of the gross misrepresentations your publisher has printed on the inside cover flap. "When Rosie O'Donnell's mother was diagnosed with cancer in 1968, ten-year-old Rosie thought fame could cure her." Anyone who knows anything about you knows you were born in 1962, and your mother was diagnosed in 1973! "WTF", indeed.

But I think this was a message, Rosie. Think about it. The anniversary of 9/11 is coming up soon. You're one of the elite few who are willing to talk about the truth behind that fateful day. "In 1968, ten-year-old Rosie". Take a look at the numbers in that so-called misprint. 1-9-6-8-10. Nine minus six equals three. Three plus eight equals eleven. Take the one from the front and subtract it from the ten at the end. Nine. Eleven and nine. Now reverse them and what do you get? Nine eleven.

They're on to you, Rosie. You're too close. You never should have opened your goddamn mouth. Do you know the connections your publisher, Grand Central Publishing, has with the Bush administration? Their name is no train reference. The Grand Central Lodge is the meeting house of the Freemasonic masterminds behind the 9/11 conspiracy. They gather there every solstice to drink baby's blood from owl sculptures and masturbate on a pile of money.

Listen to me, Rosie. You must leave the country before they make their next move. They've already destroyed your stand-up career, your movie career, your television career, and your publishing career. What's next? If you're not careful, you'll be spending the rest of your days making personal appearances aboard gay cruise lines for a couple of dollars and a buffet ticket.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On respecting a tenor

2007-09-06T07:53:00.000-07:00

Luciano Pavarotti died today. In tribute, I present this classic duet with Barry White.

On lazy writing

2007-09-05T09:24:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: MSNBC News Services
Re: Headlines

Dear MSNBC.com,

As an accomplished and award-winning journalist, I understand the tricks of the trade. Most of the time you get your news from the wire services or the television or you just make stuff up and slap your own headline on it. That's what makes the world of news publishing such an attractive and lucrative gig. But I expect a little more creativity from MSNBC. You people got Tucker Carlson to stop wearing that ridiculous bow tie, after all. I'm not asking that you do any actual reporting, but couldn't you honestly come up with a better headline for the Halle Berry pregnancy story than "Berry good! Actress expecting first child"? Here, let's brainstorm a few.

"Bun in the Berry"
"Berry 'Berry' pregnant"
"Is that water weight, or is Berry expecting?"
"Halle shit! Catwoman having litter"
"Boyfriend's semen navigates Berry's cervix, baby results"

Step up your game, MSNBC.com. Or else.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On understanding

2007-09-04T09:44:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Whoopi Goldberg, ABC's The View
Re: Michael Vick

Dear Ms. Goldberg,

Congratulations on your new job as co-host of The View. It's nice to have an alternative viewpoint on the issues since Rosie left. Did you know that she heard that 9/11 was an inside job? Try as she might to raise the issue, that harpy Joy Behar kept shouting poor Rosie down. Christ, must everyone be a lackey for scientific evidence?

Anyway, your presence offers a refreshing change of pace. It's not often that daytime television benefits from the unique perspective of the eyebrow-impaired. I was particularly impressed by your insightful commentary on the Michael Vick dogfighting debacle. Indeed, no one seems to sympathize with the fact that Vick grew up in a culture where ripping dogs apart for sport was as innocent as a game of Jenga. I myself also grew up in the south, and I can attest to my own difficulty in adapting my regional ways to a cosmopolitan lifestyle. Did you know that up north women are allowed to pray aloud and black people use the same sewer system as everyone else? During my first year as a New Yorker, I was arrested for indecent exposure in Central Park simply for crawfishing in the nude. Luckily, as little more than a paranoid tourist, I kept my wallet safely lodged up my rectum, so I was able to bail myself out. After all, how could I be expected to phone a friend for money when I didn't see a telephone until my early twenties?

It's about time cultural relativism had a say amongst The View's tampon and cleaning supplies advertisements. I'll bet people like Joy Behar would even be appalled by the fact that some people in the world would rather slice their daughters' vaginae off than shove hygiene products up there. What a Philistine!

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On medical privacy

2007-09-03T07:28:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: John Edwards, Democratic presidential candidate
Re: Mandatory doctor's visits

Dear John,

It's Labor Day, so I'll make this quick. I have to make it to Hobby Lobby's scrapbooking supplies sale before all those horny divorcees. But I wanted to write and express my deep concern over one aspect of your universal health care plan. Kudos on keeping America's health at the forefront of your campaign. I'm tired of having to wear a breathing mask and a latex body suit whenever I take a cab uptown. But your idea that people who buy into your plan would be required to visit the doctor regularly? I have to say, this doesn't sound very appealing. After all, as an international literary celebrity, I come into contact with a variety of biological nuisances. In the past, I would schedule an appointed with my G.P. after every one of Norman Mailer's Tony Awards parties, but I eventually tired of hearing my doctor moan into his microscope about "further testing" and "keeping my genitals away from poison dart frogs". Trips to the doctor are a bummer, and, in a lifestyle such as mine, relatively useless. Sure, if I break a wrist or need a little pick-me-up, I'll call in for a prescription of pain meds, but do I really need my mouth swabbed on a weekly basis? I've found there's very little a glass of scotch and a four-week enema routine can't cure. There's no reason for me to tax the system, especially if the American taxpayers are footing the bill. Now, I'm off to scrapbook this thing that fell out of my urethra.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, medical miracle

On star breaking

2007-08-31T07:04:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: A.J. Hammer, CNN's Showbiz Tonight
Re: Owen Wilson's meltdown

Dear A.J.,

First of all, kudos on the stage name. It's not often that two initials and a piece of hardware could so expertly label either a porn star or a hard-boiled private dick.

And double kudos on your expert Showbiz Tonight panel discussion on screen star Owen Wilson's personal troubles. All week, I've been waiting for someone to put Mr. Wilson's wrist slashing in the context of greater Hollywood. When I saw the tease for your piece before the commercial break, I found myself speaking aloud, "Good question, sir. Why do such shining stars fall apart." Unfortunately, one of my semi-legitimate daughters was playing with the curling iron in the bathtub, and my power cut out before I could actually watch your expert discussion.

But my curiosity was still piqued, so I phoned my friend Chandra who does my eyes when I'm on book tour. "Chandra," I said, "why do you think celebrities have such a tough time of their lives?" Maybe she tried to answer. I couldn't hear her clearly for all her crying. Something about her husband dying of cancer. "Pull yourself together, Chandra," I yelled. "I'm asking you a question." She must have run out of antidepressants, because I could hear her tongue licking the inside of an empty prescription bottle. I didn't have time for this. I needed to know what causes such emotional fragility in my favorite film stars, and all Chandra cared about was her baking. I could barely get a word in over the squeaking of her oven door.

I guess what I'm asking is, can you send me a transcript of the show? And could you sign it "to Laurence Shandy from his dear friend A.J."?

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On feeling sexy

2007-08-30T08:31:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Condoleezza Rice, Secretary of State
Re: Loosening up

Dear Condi,

According to Glenn Kessler's upcoming biography The Confidante: Condoleezza Rice and the Creation of the Bush Legacy, you're quite the firecracker. Case in point: your snarky comment to a jewelry store clerk who stupidly wanted to sell you cheap costume jewelry. "Let's get one thing straight," you snapped. "You are behind the counter because you have to work for minimum wage. I'm on this side asking to see the good jewelry because I make considerably more."

This quote will do nothing to thaw the perception that you're a frigid, icy taskmaster--a humorless overachiever with a vulture's stare and an android's mind. But look on the bright side. At least your biographer takes the time to note the firmness of your superhumanly toned ass.

Look, it's no wonder you'd be so tightly wound. You're feeling left out. You're the man behind the curtain of a crumbling empire. Disgraceful resignations, sex scandals, failing foreign policies--these things may steal the headlines, but who's watching as you're bent over, picking up the pieces of a crumbling administration.

Well, I just thought you'd like to know that I'm still paying attention. Lately, I can't seem to get you out of my mind. If only you could handle me like you handle Middle East peace negotiations--teasing me with your firm, deadly touch. Some may call you a snow queen, but isn't that why KY made warming lube?

All I'm saying is that I'd like to be on you like white on Rice. Is that too much to ask?

Think about it, Condi. That is, if you get a minute.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On catching predators

2007-08-29T10:24:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

Journalism isn't only about international jet setting and fathering illegitimate children. No, sometimes the journalist must wield his power for the greater good. He must take up the mantle of public protector--investigating those dirty and debased facets of human existence so that the burdens of the average worker may be lessened. By waving a black light over a motel bedspread, the masses will know the comfort that comes with knowledge--the knowledge that they are probably sleeping in a puddle of dried semen.

As such, I have taken it upon myself to scour the dregs of the Internet in search of those who would prey upon our most precious resource. Today, I bring you my real, uncensored chat with an actual child predator from IRC's #Man&Boy4Chat channel. Unfortunately, this predator got away before I could discover his real name, but I think I made my point. For anonymity's sake, I disguised myself as Hrny12yo, a horny 12-year-old.

Warning: This conversation may be too graphic for some readers.

Session Start: Wed Aug 29 11:48:03 2007

Me32top4oy: hi

Hrny12yo: Hello there. Are you an older man?

Me32top4oy: 32 ale from spain. you? asl

Hrny12yo: I'm sorry, do you have a question? Is that a typo or some kind of Interweb slang?

Me32top4oy: age sex place you are

Hrny12yo: Oh, I see. Well, I'm a 12-year-old boy. A horny one, to be precise. And I'm currently chatting with you from my father's home office. Being a weekday afternoon, his office is abandoned. Did you know his chair spins around? It's kind of fun, really. And yourself? What is your age, sex, and location?

Me32top4oy: 32 male spain and my chair spins arround too. what are you into?

Hrny12yo: I'm sorry, I don't speak with Spaniards.

Me32top4oy: what is a spainard?

Hrny12yo: A Spaniard is a swarthy gentleman from the former Islamic territories of southwestern Europe. Also, Spaniards really like ham.

Me32top4oy: Swarthy? former? ham?

Hrny12yo: Indeed, all three.

Me32top4oy: indeed?

Hrny12yo: Look, I don't mean to be racist here, but I've never quite forgiven your people for blowing up the Maine in Havana Harbor. I know some might say it was all a set-up, but I knew McKinley and Hearst, and they were both honorable men.

Me32top4oy: ok. 1 i am in spain but doesn`t mean that i am Spanish. and second that nowlege taht a you had reveal that you don`t have 12yo. i am not into r p so bye

Hrny12yo: What nationality are you then? Are you a pedophilic expat on the run? Were you chased from your home country over your baser inclinations?

Me32top4oy: no just move here because had a great weather and you can live with less money than other places

Hrny12yo: By the way, you're right. I'm not really 12 years old. I am, in fact, international literary icon Laurence Shandy, and I am catching predators. Actually, I'm looking for American predators, as I'm unfamiliar with international age of consent laws.

Me32top4oy has left the chat.

Hrny12yo: Hello? Spaniard? Consider yourself caught!

On the benefit of doubt

2007-08-28T09:29:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Larry Craig, (R) Idaho
Re: Public restrooms

Dear Sen. Craig,

Internationally beloved figure of American letters Laurence Shandy here. Oh, how quickly the times can change. Just yesterday you were an anonymous legislator from the nation's third most boring state, and now you're just another wrinkled carcass on the man-pile of sexually scandalous Senators from the Grand Old Party. You'll be pleased to hear, however, that I have not passed judgment against you. Frankly, this story smells fishy to me. Sure, I can believe that a few of the Republican party's most loyal Bible-thumping homo haters might be dipping their toes in the enemy's juices. A few red-tied overachievers in the congressional page program are going to have their tallywackers tickled by the old guard. That's just the law of averages at work. But if the charges against you are true, I'm afraid the statistics would be tipped to the edge of the unlikely. Could it be that every opponent of civil rights for homosexuals is, in fact, a secret virtuoso of the rusty trombone? I think not.

I believe you when you say your initial guilty plea was just a matter of discretion. Who needs a lengthy court proceeding? Better to just pay your fine and be on your way--confident in the knowledge that the media would never sink their stinky talons into such a non-story. "Conservative Republican Senator Pleads Guilty to Lewd Conduct in a Public Restroom". Who would have thought such an innocuous headline would be worth anyone's time?

Still, the media have unearthed your misfortune, and they intend to drag your name down the Hershey highway just like all the others. But if they would simply close their salivating jaws long enough to ask your side of the story, you'd disappear from the public consciousness in half a news cycle. So what if you peeked in at the undercover officer through the crack in the door of his bathroom stall? I find myself peeking in such a way almost every time I use a public lavatory. It's simple human curiosity to want to put a face to a stench, and is anyone bold enough to suggest you're anything less than human? We all live in glass houses on that one.

And what of the fact that you took a stall next to the cop and barricaded it with your carry-on luggage? The police suggest this was meant to block the view from outside of your lewd and lascivious roaming hands. I say this is simply evidence in your favor. Not only do you keep your silky fingers off of any stranger's genitals, but you risk the safety of your own personal belongings to create a barrier between you and any randy door-kicker who might want to take your mouth virginity by force. Kudos to you, sir, for keeping safety at the top of your mind during these times of uncertainty.

So you moved your foot under the stall's partition and gently touched the officer with it. As you said, you need "a wide stance" when going to the bathroom. You're an old man, for Christ's sake. What's left of your colon has been subjected to years upon years of fecal stretching. Your bowel movements are like squeezing a kielbasa through a soda straw, and you need the widest berth possible. I understand that.

So we're left with the provocative hand gestures you allegedly made to the officer. Why won't anyone believe you when you say you were simply retrieving a dropped piece of paper? A senator's work is never finished, and I'm actually reassured that you would take every opportunity to finish the complicated paperwork which is the lubrication of our legislative system. And if the officer says he saw no piece of paper when he escorted you out of the restroom, doesn't that mean you succeeded in your endeavor to pick it up? Would he rather the alternative--that you left the document on the bathroom floor like so much spent semen?

Keep a chin up, senator. I'm sure in a few days someone else from the Bush administration will resign or Britney Spears will kill her children or Pakistan will launch a nuclear war against whomever. This will all blow over, and you can get back to your important patriotic duty--helping elect Mitt Romney as the next president.

Oh, he fired you? Don't worry about it. The Mormons hate everybody.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

RESPONSE #1
To: Laurence Shandy
From: Sen. Larry Craig, (R) Idaho
Re: Resignation

Dear Laurence:

You were frank in expressing your views, and I appreciated it. In fact, I reviewed every letter and contact from Idahoans -- both letters like yours urging me to resign and letters of support from throughout the State.

As you know, I have decided to serve out my term and complete the initiatives for Idaho that are currently underway in the U.S. Senate. When I returned to Washington, D.C. in September, it became clear that I could still work effectively for the State; many of my Senate colleagues have even urged me to remain in office. Resigning would have cost Idaho the seniority and committee assignments that serve key State priorities.

Let me again apologize to you for the mistake I made in pleading guilty to a crime I did not commit. I deeply regret the cloud that has been cast over Idaho because of my actions. I will do all I can to lift that cloud through continued service to our great State.

In the months ahead, I will be voting and working on your behalf in the U.S. Senate. It may not be possible to regain your trust, but I hope you will still continue to give me your input, so that I can do my best to represent you on the issues facing our State and Nation.

Sincerely,
LARRY E. CRAIG
United States Senator

On memories

2007-08-27T07:56:00.000-07:00

To read Laurence Shandy's past letter to Mr. Gonzales, click here. To enjoy more hot south of the border action, click here.

On McAnniversaries

2007-08-24T07:09:00.000-07:00

Happy 40th anniversary, Big Mac!
If you would like to advertise on ShandyLetters.com, contact Laurence Shandy here.

On recognizing a threat

2007-08-23T07:29:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Principal Craig Gilbert, Payne Junior High
Re: Gun drawing

Dear Principal Gilbert,

Widely published intellectual Laurence Shandy here. Recently, the administration of Payne Junior High has been criticized for suspending a 13-year-old boy over his crude drawing of a giant, anime-style gun. It's the kind of gun that in no way exists in reality, but may instead be conceivably wielded by a trench coat-wearing, androgynous cartoon character with spiky hair. Consequently, your school district's spokesperson's referring to the drawing as "a threat" seems, at first, a bit hyperbolic.

However, I must applaud you and your staff for cracking down on teenage fans of Japanese animation. I am sick to death of their tight pants and shiny bangs. I can barely make it through the door of my local public library without tripping over their Yu-Gi-Oh cards or their Pokemon balls. Do you know what's in those balls, sir? Monsters. And these kids have got to catch them all. If that's not a threat, I don't know what is.

Christ, man, what happened to Hanna-Barbera and Filmation? Why can't kids these days be contented with barely-mobile cutouts of their favorite superheros and racial stereotypes fighting it out with evil on Saturday mornings? I've seen Dragonball Z. I've seen Sailor Moon and Cowboy Bebop and Bleach. This isn't the kind of wholesome entertainment I'm used to. Gone are the laser battles between the jingoistic G.I. Joes and the serpentine Cobra terrorists. Instead, these new imports are full of watery-eyed angst and seizure-inducing power-up sequences. Did you know there are entire episodes of Dragonball Z devoted to characters absorbing Chi energy into their solar plexi?

Kids like the 13-year-old punk you so rightly suspended should be ashamed of themselves. Animated heroes should be traveling through time with their hyper-intelligent canine companions, not floating around with their gravity-defying guns and effete ribbon accessories. Look at that thing hanging from the trigger guard in this kid's doodle. What the hell is that? Oh, I know. It's a threat.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shany, gentleman

On race baiting

2007-08-22T08:02:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gov. Mitt Romney, presidential candidate
Re: Illegal immigrants

Dear Mitt,

Some have accused you of flagrant race baiting in your recent radio ad denouncing cities with "sanctuary" laws protecting illegal immigrants from deportation. And by "some", I mean me. But others will follow. These ads are running in the campaign states of Iowa and New Hampshire--not the most ethnically diverse of states. With a 96% white majority population, the only illegal immigrants Iowans face are corn-eating beetles. "Immigrant", as you well know, is simply a political euphemism for "Mexican", which, in the minds of the conservative base, is a euphemism for "darkie". Middle America no longer fears the anonymous black man released from prison by a Democratic candidate soft on crime. Instead, they tremble at the thought of a brown man doing their jobs for less money and becoming the toast of the company picnic with his homemade fajitas.

I'm no Karl Rove (and I also happen to be an Obama endorser), but I think I can help you spin this. Painting yourself as a Mormon was a smart move. Americans find Mormons adorable--all dimples and singing. With their magic underpants and aversion to caffeine, the Mormons come across as quirky and harmless as the Smurfs. I won't even mention the polygamy except to say it's the stuff dreams are made of. Since you have a college degree, I'm sure you don't actually believe any of that crap, but you can make it work for you.

Instead of coming across as a cynical power-grabber willing to play to your constituents' basest bigotry, why not play up the Mormon card. After all, according to the angel Moroni in his revelation to the prophet Joseph Smith, the Mexicans are actually descendants of the wicked and warlike Lamanites. Due to their inherently evil nature, God cursed them with dark skin, "that they might not be enticing unto my people" (2 Nephi 5:21). Blame your racism on your religion, Mitt, and you're scott free. It's against decorum to question a person's beliefs.

And if the anti-Mormon set still keeps pushing, simply tell them how the church finally lifted its ban against baptizing blacks in 1978. However, this may be hard to prove since, according to the Book of Mormon, the darkness in a person's skin lightens once he accepts the gospel.

Tell you what, I'll get back to you on that.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On stretches

2007-08-21T08:04:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Barack Obama, presidential candidate
Re: Electability

Dear Barack,

Laurence Shandy here. I must say you've impressed me in these early days of the presidential campaign. Your endorsement from Oprah gave me pause, as she has also endorsed neo-spirituality, half-assed lasagnas, and John Travolta. But she has also lent her stamp of approval to Gabriel Garcia Marquez, an old friend of mine and the best partner one could hope to have if one were to engage in a tag-team with the young Fidel Castro. (By the way, one shouldn't.)

You say envisioning yourself as president is a "stretch", but I beg to differ. Indeed, I would much prefer you to the other crop of Democratic candidates. Hillary Clinton is of a piece with her husband--a disingenuous capitulator, a lousy leader, and owning a wide, pasty ass with a permanent 'for sale' sign. On a lark, I took the entire three weeks worth of funds from my Vanity Fair expense account and offered Sen. Clinton a lump sum to go on the record stating that I was her personal lord and savior. My editor disapproved at first, but who needs a substantive article when you've got a headline like that? Besides, they could always just fill the space with more photos of Leonardo DiCaprio posing on an ice flow. And they did.

I do, however, understand your point. You are a new commodity in the political sphere. You speak candidly. You look like you could have descended from slaves instead of slave-owners. You have big ears and a bigger smile. You're like a modern Jack Kennedy without all the crippling STDs. I'd like to make love to you, and I think you could take it. Sure, if we're going on looks alone, I wouldn't kick John Edwards out of the shower either, but I have a feeling a conjugal visit with him would quickly devolve into tears and shameful wailing. You, on the other hand, evoke a cosmopolitan can-do America needs in its highest office.

That said, I feel comfortable throwing my endorsement behind you. Previously, I have been an Al Goldstein man, but I'm beginning to think America may not be ready to embrace a Jewish libertarian pornographer as its president. You, on the other hand, are just what the doctor ordered--a half-black liberal with no executive experience. In other words, you're the reform candidate.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, supporter

On Christian teachings

2007-08-20T10:50:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Father Jonathan Morris, Fox News commentator
Re: Bill Maher

Dear Father Morris,

International literary icon Laurence Shandy here. It's been a while since I've written to a priest. Back in '68 I got into a bit of a word war with Father Winston Babcock of Wisconsin when I said in an interview with Life magazine that I was "bigger than Jesus". Father Babcock misunderstood me as claiming that I was more popular than Jesus, which is undeniably false. I wrote him to clarify that I was only speaking in terms of height. Jesus, being a swarthy Judean man, would most likely have been quite short, whereas I achieve a virile European grandeur of 6'2" (in heels). We eventually agreed to agree that there is no actual evidence that the Biblical Jesus even existed, so there was a happy ending.

However, I'm writing you today to discuss your recent editorial regarding the truth behind statements made by former c-list actor Bill Maher about the insane teachings of the Christian religion. Putting aside Mr. Maher's and your insistence on speaking of Christianity as if it were some kind of unified dogma (I mean really, when one group dances with snakes on Sundays and another believes in magic underpants, Christians fail to present any kind of unified front), I would like to address some of the points you raised. Mr. Maher, I'm afraid, is probably too busy scrubbing sexually transmitted bacteria from his remaining hairs to get back to you in a timely manner.

You say Mr. Maher is incorrect in maintaining that Christians believe the Bible was written by God and passed down to man. You claim that the Bible is a human work, though divinely inspired. Belief in the divinity of its message, according to you, is an act of faith. I fail to see the distinction between the two. Whether a semi-literate sheepherder claims to have received the word of God from His cloudy, moist hands or claims that his contradiction and absurdity-filled scribblings came to him from the Lord's inspiration, he is still a complete nut. Whether or not God told someone to say every animal in the world could fit on one boat doesn't take away from the fact that such a story is less plausible than a Roland Emmerich movie. I've even tried the faith route, but no matter how much I believe they can fit, there's no way I'm loading a herd of camels onto my yacht. Life, unfortunately, is nothing like Peter Pan. Save, of course, for the occasional pederastic subtext.

You also say Maher is mistaken in his claim that Christianity teaches God causes tragedies such as cancer, earthquakes, and child abuse. You counter by saying that the world is "out of whack" due to a misuse of humanity's God-given free will. First of all, if God is omniscient, then he knows a person's fate before he is created. Knowing that a soul will end up suffering for all eternity--even if God Himself has no hand in the suffering--why would He choose to create it? To put it another way, if I lived in a house made of chocolate and decided to adopt a dog that is deathly allergic to chocolate, aren't I responsible for that dog's inevitable demise? And wouldn't God be even more responsible, considering he also created chocolate and chocolate allergies? And just how are cancer and earthquakes a result of our mismanagement of free will? Are you suggesting they are punishments? Are you suggesting that the recently deceased rescue workers in the mines of Utah and White House Press Secretary Tony Snow are all somehow culpable for their own afflictions? If so, please spill the beans. As an occasional gossip journalist, I'd love to get some dirt on Tony Snow. Or at least something in which I am not also implicated.

You also take Maher to task for claiming Christians are taught to kill in God's name. However, there are numerous passages in the Bible which call for the stoning to death of adulterers and homosexuals, to name just a couple. How does this teaching correspond with your Church's stance against capital punishment? Were these sections of the Bible less divinely inspired?

Perhaps the answers to these questions would seem more evident if I were a member of the faithful, but I'm afraid my brain has evolved as a thinking machine. Try as I might, I just can't make it stop being inquisitive. Unlike the faithful, I have not mastered my free will enough to force my brain to shut off.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On seeking advice

2007-08-17T08:36:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dan Savage, Savage Love
Re: Dana Perino

Dear Dan,

For several months now, I've been sexually entangled with a certain deputy White House press secretary. Let's just call her Dana Perino, since that's her name. You may have seen her razor-sharp cheekbones during her stint as a fill-in for Tony Snow during his colon removal surgery. Tony may have lost his ass, but America sure gained a piece of ass. Watching her from my musky seat in the press room, I felt something I'd never felt before. Kind of like someone reached into my groin and sheathed an icepick in my penis. I fell to the floor in convulsions, but I'd never been harder. David Gregory, that pituitary nightmare from NBC news, tried to help me up and had to be treated for multiple puncture wounds.

Like any good Bush administration official, the sight of blood set Dana's juices flowing as well. In the commotion, I stalked her down to the White House kitchen, where we took each other's dignity atop a thawing mound of frozen peas. We did things that afternoon only David Attenborough could describe.

So here's my question. Am I risking my moral and journalistic integrity by repeatedly pumping my seed onto the lower back and upper throat of someone I've been sworn by my editors to criticize? I must admit to an embarrassing slip-up already. Concerning Alberto Gonzalez's congressional testimony, I asked her if his memory might have been banged out of his head like I banged the bottom out of her the night before. Fortunately, most of the press corps had dozed off after about ten minutes into the press conference, but I felt bad all the same. Especially since Dana had to immediately change into a dry pair of slacks.

Help me, Dan. My mind and my training tell me one thing, but my loins and my cellphone and my friends and my fax machine tell me something else. If she doesn't stop calling me, I'm afraid we'll both end up before a House investigative committee, and all those flash bulbs will just make us hornier.

Anxiously aroused,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On laying low

2007-08-16T09:53:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Sen. Ted Stevens, (R) Alaska
Re: Anchorage Daily News

Dear Sen. Stevens,

Laurence Shandy here. I understand you're under federal investigation for something or other, so I'll keep this brief. In times like these, it's easy to lose any sense of home -- to feel exposed and left out in the cold. You'd expect your local newspaper, the Anchorage Daily News to be on your side. After all, in your home state, civilized people must learn to band together against the cannibalistic Eskimo hordes. But instead of coddling or comforting you, those dastardly newsmen have been hellbent on your "assassination".

You're no spring chicken, Ted. In fact, your kind of a late-autumnal grouse. So, you're no match for the tycoons and robber barons behind our nation's press. They can pool their subscription money -- dolling it out willy-nilly on technologically advanced resources like horseless carriages and portable talky wands. They can afford to hire scores of typesetters who will pump out up-to-the-minute editions detailing your every move. They have taken sand from the Earth and fashioned it into hard, clear lenses through which they might see farther and cannier than any eagle.

Which is why you should maybe stop granting their interview requests. I spend most of my day spelunking the pipes and tubes of the Intra-Nets, and I keep coming across quotes given by you to the Anchorage Daily News. Instead of answering their questions by saying you aren't going to answer their questions, why not refuse to take their questions in the first place?

For example, here's a quote from the most recent interview you chose not to dodge: "[The Daily News] has caused me more difficulty...than anything else. You've created me as the senator-for-life. You've been hanging me weekly." You only serve to weaken your position by making such preposterous statements. While the paper's fleet of winged chariots and whirligigs may seem indistinguishable from magic to you, it doesn't mean the Daily News is all-powerful. They did not create you. They are but men. And check under the decaying flesh hanging from your chin. Neck still there? They haven't even hanged you once, Ted. You're slipping in and out of consciousness.

Why not take a nice, long vacation in the Bahamas? Remember, it's where Nelly went to treat her consumption. Remember Nelly, Ted? That looks like her on the horizon. Her dress is opening for you, Ted. That's the light of paradise inside. Go ahead. Follow the light. The Anchorage Daily News will never find you there.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On healing wounds

2007-08-15T09:59:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Kia Vaughn, Rutgers' Lady Scarlet Knights
Re: Imus

Dear Ms. Vaughn,

Just when I thought I'd never have to wake up and see Don Imus' cadaverous, drooling visage ever again, you have to go and ruin it by suing the guy. Seriously, it's tough to keep my Lucky Charms and whiskey down in the morning when I'm trying to pleasure myself to Ann Curry's cherry blossom lips and I have to see another stock clip of Imus in his cowboy hat and denim shirt stumbling out of a courtroom and into an SUV. I mean, the guy looks like a melted, AIDS-ridden Robert Redford, and his haircut looks like the one on Thomas Jefferson's corpse. As you can tell, I'm no Imus fan, and neither are you. He called your basketball team a bunch of "nappy headed hos", and, in so doing, caused you to be "humiliated", "embarrassed", and "publicly mocked".

Look, Kia, I know your attorney says this lawsuit is about protecting your "good name", but let's face facts. You didn't really have a name before Imus never once mentioned it. No one knew who you were. You have to understand that the American public doesn't understand what's going on here. They don't realize that when Imus said "the Rutgers women's basketball team", he actually meant "Kia Vaughn". All they see is a no-name college athlete who wants to get in on some undeserved cash by falsely claiming imaginary damages that even a third-grader on the playground would shake off and forget. You and I, we know better than that. We understand the medicinal qualities that only money has. Whenever one of my novels or operas receives a negative review, it hurts. And the only thing that can quell that pain is a dip in my money pool. It's a kidney-shaped pit of greenback relief.

The poor commoners of America can't afford money holes, so they choose to judge those who would mend their emotional wounds with cold, hard cash. All I'm saying is, your case probably isn't going to go anywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if Imus gets off on the technicality that he never ever mentioned your name in any way ever at all. And if that happens, where are you left? You'll just be another in the long line of hilariously frivolous litigators cordoned off in the back of America's collective mind.

On the other hand, if you could somehow claim Imus' comments gave you whiplash, I've seen a couple of attorneys on TV who might be able to get you a check.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On causing offence

2007-08-14T14:14:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Peterborough City Council - Peterborough, England
Re: Offensive slogans

Dear Peterborough City Council,

International literary celebrity Laurence Shandy here. I recently read about your town's harassment of American expatriate David Pratt over his novelty t-shirt. Being a cultural relativist, I will not criticize your hamlet's rules of law. In America, as you may be aware, citizens such as myself (i.e. rich and white) enjoy the freedom of constitutionally protected speech. For example, I could stop a wandering English tourist on the sidewalk in front of my opulent apartment building and, with no fear of legal recourse, proceed to berate him for his home country's bestial predilection for boiled meats and neglected dental hygiene. In your community, this kind of behavior would saddle me with an eighty-pound fine, but here, it's simply called patriotism.

I understand why you would ban David Pratt from wearing his shirt. Its slogan, "Don't piss me off; I'm running out of places to hide the bodies", is clearly harmful to the disposition of the average Englishman. Only a citizenry bereft of ironic understanding could possibly tolerate a taxpayer-funded royal family, so it's no wonder that a passerby who might glance at Pratt's shirt would become frightened for his life. Humor is a subtle and slippery animal. For all a commoner knows, Pratt may be eying his next victim -- ready to snap at any moment. Sure, he offers a public warning of his murderous ways printed across his chest, but such brazen insanity may just be another symptom of his sociopathic psychosis.

Those who would walk about on the public sidewalks of Peterborough have a responsibility not to offend the half-wits and water-brained who hold no grasp on sarcasm or any other form of comedy. The sheepish, neurotic police force, likewise, have a responsibility to warn and, if need be, fine any public offenders. And you, the complacent, subservient, passive-aggressively fascistic Peterborough City Council, have jobs to justify.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On paying respects

2007-08-13T15:48:00.000-07:00

On keeping a leg up

2007-08-10T08:08:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Katie Couric, CBS Evening News
Re: Hatchet job

Dear Katie,

Laurence Shandy here. I want to begin by apologizing for my inappropriate comments at last year's CBS Christmas party. I'd had a little too much eggnog, a few too many pills, and at least twice my normal dose of PCP (which might as well stand for "Party! Come on, party!"). You and I were having a nice conversation about skiing, and if I'd stayed on track with you, I'm sure I would have had a shot that night. Instead, I told you I'd always wanted to slalom down your thighs on a stick of butter. I obviously made you uncomfortable, and for that I'm sorry.

Truthfully, I'm a big admirer of yours. On the Today show, you always provided a silky-legged counterpoint to the brusk, hunky manliness of Matt Lauer. Plus, you read the news pretty well. Which is why it came as no surprise to me that CBS courted you and your gams for Dan Rather's venerable chair. Rather never struck me as a particularly good newsman. He seemed to be of the establishment -- the old guard. His legs were just like Cronkite's and Murrow's before him -- pasty, wrinkled, and riddled with pustules from all that sitting. You, on the other hand, brought something new to the table. Two things, actually. And they glowed with a kind of feminine power the Evening News had never seen before.

So, there's a new book coming out about your "dark side" and your "erratic and unprofessional behavior". Please. I usually watch you frame-by-frame on my TiVo at night, so I'm confident I've seen you from pretty much every side, and they're all the same beautiful golden honey color. Not a dark side to be found. And this claim about your erratic behavior is simply a joke. Back in 1992, I personally saw Tom Brokaw shoot a producer in the face over a botched profile on M.C. Hammer, and that wasn't even the lead story. So what if you've slapped a couple of people around?

Here's the thing: don't let this upset you. I need you to be cool and collected. It doesn't matter what people think or how many people are watching your newscast. Brian Williams has been working overtime on his legs. You've got to give it to him -- those things are damn impressive. But America will tire of him. They're just used to seeing your getaway sticks in the morning. Slowly tanning under the sun of Rockefeller Center, those things were like a shot of espresso before work. It's just a matter of time before America discovers them again, and treats them like a nice, warming afternoon swig of scotch. And if you're ever feeling down, you can call on me. I've got a stick of butter with your name on it.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On laying blame

2007-08-09T13:05:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Waymon Hudson, UNITE Ft. Lauderdale
Re: Homophobia

Dear Mr. Hudson,

Cultural icon Laurence Shandy here. I must admit my surprise upon reading that the mayor of your fair city, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, is a gay-hating, gun-toting redneck. I always assumed the mayor of Ft. Lauderdale was Mickey Mouse. But I suppose Floridians aren't quite ready to elect an openly gay rodent to their highest municipal office. Maybe one day.

Regardless, I'm behind you on your quest to muzzle Mayor Jim Naugle and his hate speak. It was bad enough when he suggested lynching as an environmentally friendly alternative to the electric chair. Doesn't he realize that trees can get rope burn, too? And does he really expect us to believe that homosexuals meet in public restrooms for late-night trysts?

Okay, he may have a point about that. Cruise through the city park near my opulent penthouse after one or two in the morning, and it's like Studio 54. Except most of the people there are undercover cops. Still, not every homosexual has gotten a hummer in a toilet stall. The very suggestion is obscene.

But I must pause to question a comment you made to CNN. In regards to Mayor Naugle, you are quoted as stating: "He has demonized a group of people. He should be held accountable for any hate crimes committed against gays." Since I have class and money, I've never lived in Florida, so I'm not incredibly familiar with the average intelligence of its people. If the general public is so easily incited to mass gay-killing sprees after hearing their mayor suggest homosexuals like to dally in the dark, then I concede your point. But if you do, in fact, live in a community of gay-killing zombies, may I ask why you don't simply up and move? I'm all for fighting the good fight, but I've seen Dawn of the Dead. This is a battle you can't win.

Unless, of course, the general public of Ft. Lauderdale is normally capable of making considered decisions and are only being controlled by some black magic device beaming hypno-rays from atop City Hall. In which case, perhaps a referendum is in order?

Whatever the case, let me offer any service to you and your organization that I can. Short, that is, of actually flying down to Ft. Lauderdale. My body has been covered in a permanent sub-dermal layer of dried semen since the late '70s, and I'd hate to become another homophobic zombie statistic.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

RESPONSE
From: Waymon Hudson
To: Laurence Shandy
Re: Mayor Jim Naugle

Dear Mr Shandy,

When a public official such as Naugle uses stereotypes and hate speech to demonize and dehumanize a group it makes it easier for hate-filled people to use violence against them. The mayor's comments (which include "gays are unhappy so I call them homosexuals", "homosexuality should be a criminal act", and "we should not invite gay tourists because of the HIV/AIDS issues") are instigating violence and hatred towards the gay community. If you look at the comments left on some of the news stories, they are very violent and go as far as to say that "we should line up the gays in the streets and blow them all away."

This is not, nor has it ever been, about a few isolated cases of illegal activity in restrooms, which everyone opposes and is rightfully handled by the police. This is about using stereotypes and demonizing a group of citizens in a personal crusade for publicity, which seems to be the mayor’s way of doing business. By dehumanizing and attacking an entire community, Naugle only inflames and encourages hate crimes and violence. It is a public safety issue, pure and simple. Violent words too often lead to violent actions.

Thank you for your clever and amusing letter.

Best Wishes,
Waymon Hudson, gentleman

REBUTTAL
From: Laurence Shandy
To: Waymon Hudson
Re: Mayor Jim Naugle

Dear Mr. Hudson,

Congratulations on your insightful and accurate comments regarding the cleverness of my letter, but I must take issue with your characterizing it as "amusing". There's nothing amusing about an entire city full of mindless automatons -- especially if they can be so easily coaxed into following the murderous whims of your mayor, Jim Naugle. Clearly Mayor Naugle is a douche. We can tell that just by looking at him. He looks like the football player who used to call me a faggot while anally raping me in the locker room shower. Actually, "rape" really isn't the right word, since we were 69ing. Also, we lived together for several years after graduation. It was an open relationship that ended amicably. He left with the toaster oven, and I left with his sister's virginity. Now that I think of it, Mayor Naugle is nothing like Bryce.

Anyway, that's beside the point. There's no excuse for the hateful comments left by anonymous bigots writing from their bedrooms before their moms make them turn out the lights. Thankfully, we live in a nation where gay people will never be lined up in the streets and blown away, nor will they be lined up in the streets and p0wned away. These are the pipe dreams of the sexually confused Halo players of the world and not the wishes of mainstream America.

Mayor Naugle's comments, while emotionally retarded and ironically telling of his own sexual proclivities (in a few years, don't be surprised when we see security camera pictures of Naugle with his lips around Jeb Bush's penis while they both wear the skins of disenfranchised black voters), are, in fact, protected speech. He can say he hates the homosexuals all he wants. He can dredge up images from Reconstruction-era lynch mobs. He can say the name Jim J. Bullock and make a cutting motion across his neck with an index finger. That's as American as two rednecks jacking each other off in the back of a pickup truck after a Tampa Bay game. You and I may not like it, and it may be the straw that broke the homicidal, homophobic camel's back, but it doesn't make him a murderer. It just makes him an asshole, which should provide some comfort seeing as how assholes are the things he hates/desires most in the world.

As a form of protest, why don't you and I engage in a little constitutionally-protected man-on-international literary celebrity in the restroom of the Ft. Lauderdale Chuck E. Cheese's? That is, of course, unless you're afraid of a few Internet commentators.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, sodomite

On punching it up

2007-08-08T11:25:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Scott Kelly, NASA astronaut
Re: Boozing

Dear Commander Kelly,

Globe-trotting celebrity journalist Laurence Shandy here. I read your recent editorial letter criticizing the release last week of an unsubstantiated report claiming unknown number of astronauts have flown while intoxicated. I understand your apprehensions. I wouldn't want anyone casting aspersions upon the integrity of my job either. Which is why I will one day hunt down and destroy Nancy Grace. However, as an astronaut, you must understand your own ignorance as to the ends and outs of spinning a good yarn. You may be an expert on spinning yourself around in circles, using screwdrivers underwater, and consuming dried ice cream blocks, but you're no reporter.

Jesus, the space program has been boring the last few decades. What happened to all the excitement? The adventure? The moon turned out to be a bust. Might as well land in the middle of New Jersey. The Mars rovers? If I wanted grainy pictures of a lifeless desert, I'd point a camera at Rue McClanahan's vagina. Sure, there have been a couple of explosions, but it's probably best not to mention those.

Finally this year we have some intrigue coming out of NASA. They've caught up with our current psycho celebrity obsession. Who cares about Britney's breakdowns or Lindsay's lapses when there's a diaper-wearing killer astronaut on the loose? No publicity is bad publicity, and NASA figured out how to get noticed. You think they'd dump that gravy train just because they don't have any "facts" to support their claims? Hardly. Who cares if evil technicians are really sabotaging space station computers? It's a great story. Old school. Like something Roger Moore would have to solve with punches. Boozy rocket jockeys, while admittedly duller than poopy-pantsed psychopaths, make for headline-grabbing copy.

Look, why don't you take a break from the media criticism and crack open a few dozen beers? The storm's passed anyway. We finally have a few disasters on our radar. The bridge collapses, the earthquakes, the trapped miners. Those'll hold over Wolf Blitzer for at least a week. And when things quiet down again, why not strike with your own whopper? Wouldn't it be interesting if you came back from orbit possessed by Anna Nicole Smith's ghost?

Just an idea.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On protecting our children

2007-08-07T10:17:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

This week, California governor Arnold Schwarzenegger vowed to appeal a federal court ruling which overturned a ban on selling violent video games to children. All the blood and destruction with which our nation's youth are bombarded, including the salacious tripe known as Iraq war coverage, has done nothing but desensitize them and strip away their innocence. How are we to train the next generation of professional sadists if a stiletto heel to the scrotum isn't in the least titillatingly taboo? To that end, I commend Gov. Schwarzenegger on his efforts and offer this heartfelt tribute to his patriotism and sensitivity.

On warnings

2007-08-06T07:53:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Bernd Schierwater, evolutionary biologist, Hanover University of Veterinary Medicine
Re: I told you so

Dear Dr. Schierwater,

Remember what I told you about your twelve-headed jellyfish? The pain and suffering it would cause? Well, look what you've done! Three hundred innocent Florida beach-goers have been brutally stung by your monstrous creation! Read the story, Dr. Schierwater. I'm not making this up. For the love of god, man, the lifeguards ran out of vinegar! Do you know how much vinegar that must have been? Do you know how lucky you are that they had any sting-easing vinegar available at all? A photo of three hundred people pissing on each other in public, while not at all scandalous in your native land, would become a media circus in this great nation. Sooner or later, the press is going to sniff you out. They'll know what I know, Dr. Schierwater, and soon you'll be shackled in the Hague.

There's still time to end this. Track your mutant jellyfish spawn down. Devote your life to finding it, and there's a chance you can make this right.

For all our sakes, Dr. Schierwater, I hope you're man enough to do the right thing and destroy the beast you've made.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On psychic animals

2007-08-03T08:16:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. David Dosa, geriatrician
Re: Oscar the death predicting cat

Dear Dr. Dosa,

Like the rest of the world, I was intrigued by the media onslaught concerning Oscar, the cat who predicts death at Steere House nursing home. Admittedly, I was skeptical at first. After all, this nursing home is a veritable death factory, where patients drop like cold, wrinkly flies on an hourly basis. Plus, those patients closest to death are covered in comfortable, cat-attracting heated blankets to ease them into the nihilistic void that awaits. This seemed like a classic case of folksy misunderstanding wrapped up in a pervasive and unscientific need on the part of the drooling public to find some inexplicable spark of magic in what is otherwise an uncaring and mundane life of pain. But upon second thought, I realized that I, too, have experienced the supernatural prescience of the animal kingdom.

For years I have been plagued by a certain family of pubic lice (also known as "crabs") that seem to be able to predict my sexual partners. I know it sounds crazy -- almost as crazy as a death predicting cat -- but hear me out. After almost every one of my sexual encounters, the tangled knots of my pubis become colonized by these crabs. What makes my crotch so desirable a vacation destination, I have no idea. Perhaps it's the drops of whiskey and Krispy Kreme crumbs that inevitably fall into my nether regions during naked breakfast. Anyway, I eventually flush these crabs away with a mixture rock salt and hydrogen peroxide, but they always come back. Somehow, they are able to sense which men and young ladies I will coitally conquer next and hitch a ride upon their loins.

I am no scientist, but I take it from your honorific that you've at least completed some form of higher education. Perhaps we could set up an experiment to test both your psychic cat and my psychic crabs. We could find four old people on the brink of death, lock them in separate rooms, and give the cat only one key. Simultaneously, I will bait the crabs by making love to the subjects. May we discuss this over dinner? I'll pay you generously for your expertise, of course. And if you feel a little itch down there before I arrive, well, you'll know a tip is in store.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On science abuse

2007-08-02T12:46:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Dr. Bernd Schierwater, evolutionary biologist, Hanover University of Veterinary Medicine
Re: 12-headed jellyfish

Dear Dr. Schierwater,

I recently read of your attempts to genetically manipulate jellyfish to produce a twelve-headed variety. You talk a good game about how studying a multi-headed jellyfish might help scientists learn about the processes of evolution and mutation, but who do you think you're fooling? Is there really any other purpose for a twelve-headed jellyfish than to tell people at parties that you made one? Aren't you just abusing your research position to make some kind of sick name for yourself?

Look, I understand how a novel anecdote can up your sex quote. I once slid a third of the way down Mt. Everest on only a couple of grape jelly-soaked sponges (for my work), and I couldn't keep the snatch away for at least a month afterward. Sure, you can coax a confused coed back to your apartment by serenading her with the terms of your tenure, but she'll cook you breakfast in the morning if she thinks you're some kind of man-god commanding the very laws of nature for your own perverted whims. Chicks dig power, and nothing says power like your own pet twelve-headed jellyfish.

But you made a big mistake in releasing this information to the press. Now you're going to have PETA on your tail. You don't want to mess with those bastards, and I should know. Their mercenaries assassinated Georges, my monkey handler, in his sleep. He wasn't the one taking bets. He didn't dig the fighting pit. But they don't care. So much as look at an animal viciously or lustfully, and they'll hound you to your grave. And their leader has the nerve to use animal-produced insulin for her diabetes. The balls on that woman!

So, you're not going to be able to just flush this thing down the toilet once its novelty wears off. No, you're going to have to release it into the wild. Maybe give it a few bucks and a slap on the back as you do. Oh yes, this will have to be a photo op, Dr. Schierwater. And though having your face plastered all over the 24-hour news networks for the release ceremony might draw out your sex appeal a few more precious weeks, can you really live with the consequences of your own monstrous creation roaming the seas?

Think of how many people come home from beach vacations every year with swollen, itchy jellyfish stings about their thighs and groins. Now multiply that by twelve! There's no amount of soothing urine baths that could quell the pain from those tentacles.

Science can be a gift, Dr. Schierwater, but careful that you're not slapping a bow on Pandora's box. I know you Germans are into kink, but your sexual pleasure is not worth the thighs and groins of the rest of the world.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On sin city

2007-08-01T12:17:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Oscar B. Goodman, mayor of Las Vegas, Nevada
Re: Our town

Dear Mayor Goodman,

Congratulations on winning another four-year term. Historically, the mayor's role in a town like Las Vegas has been negligible. He's the crazy old man who haunts city hall, or he's the retarded nephew of some gambling tycoon/mob boss who might find some simple-minded pleasure presiding over ribbon cutting ceremonies at the new Arby's or Panda Express.

And why should the mayor of Las Vegas have any real power? The powers that watered a little stink hole in the middle of the Nevada desert until it grew into a gaudy, glitzy empire of murder and profiteering have done a fine job of running the place all by themselves. The mayor's office is really just a side-effect of turning Las Vegas into an official municipality with an official police force that can do the really dirty work the whores and hitmen can't handle. No thanks to the mayor, Las Vegas floats atop an oil well formed from the remains of stool pigeons and hangers-on who couldn't pay their debts. The streets are swept clean by the dragging feet of the downtrodden running only on the fumes of their broken dreams.

Or, should I say, that's how Las Vegas used to be. It's a wonder what a few decades and an uppity city government can change. The last time I visited Las Vegas, Frank Sinatra was still young enough to get an erection, and I have the scars to prove it. But what did I find upon my triumphant return this past weekend? A faded shell of what once was. The air burns the moisture from your loins and smells perpetually of a $4.99 all-you-can-eat buffet. It's a sickening potpourri of stale snow crab, sausage links, and chicken fingers. The streets themselves seem to sweat a constant stream of shitty easy listening, as if 1987 were on a loop. I couldn't purchase a rusty trombone in a back alley with a veteran prostitute and her eager daughter without damming my ears against an onslaught of Bon Jovi and En Vogue.

Las Vegas used to be home to the kinds of shows that required a Hepatitis shot and a rubber poncho, but what's the biggest attraction there today? Fucking Carrot Top, sir. That's the kind of entertainment I expect on a Wednesday night at a Boca Raton retirement village, not in the town that used to serve me caviar with one hand and fist me with the other.

I don't know what you've done with the real rulers of Las Vegas, but you should really consider ceding your new found power to one of the old guard. At this rate, people like me will never return. Do you really want to base your town's economy on the American middle class and their tax break money? "What happens here stays here" is a laughable slogan for a town where the most sinful thing one can do is forget to tip the beef carver on the buffet line. How about this instead:

"Las Vegas. What happens here will cause internal bleeding."

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On assignment

2007-07-23T10:51:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-20T06:21:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-19T08:23:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-18T09:48:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-17T09:10:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-16T09:24:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-13T09:11:00.001-07:00

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

2007-07-12T08:36:00.001-07:00

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

2007-07-11T12:10:00.001-07:00

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

2007-07-10T10:52:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-05T10:48:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-04T07:51:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-03T09:23:00.000-07:00

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

2007-07-02T07:45:00.000-07:00

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

On spoilers

2007-06-22T20:08:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

If I had a dollar for every time I've made love with a celebrity in a dried-out Jacuzzi full of American paper currency, I'd have enough to fill another Jacuzzi with American paper currency. But until this afternoon, I never had a chance to make love to a British celebrity in a British Jacuzzi (which, in their cutesy British way, they call a "bubbly-whirl") full of colorful British currency.

That celebrity? J.K. Rowling. My genitals? Well-worn. And stained a multitude of colors. Compared to our own, British money is awfully bright and happy.

But I'm not telling you this to brag. Normally I maintain a modest and question-baiting silence in regards to my sexcapades, but I feel a valuable bit of information slipped out of J.K.'s thin, airtight lips during this afternoon's delight. I don't know what it means, but as I spent my seed upon her left eyebrow, I heard her exclaim what sounded like, "Harry and Voldemort are one and the same!"

The exclamation point, of course, is my own, albeit appropriate, addition.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On lightening up

2007-06-21T13:46:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Margaret Mikkelsen, executive director, Students Active for Ending Rape (S.A.F.E.R.)
Re: Jerry Seinfeld

Dear Ms. Mikkelsen,

I want to begin by thanking you and your organization, Students Active for Ending Rape (or S.A.F.E.R.) for all you've done to help abolish rape from college campuses across the country. I'm not familiar with your specific accomplishments along these lines, as I can't be bothered to read your website, but I'm sure that with a little more time, S.A.F.E.R. will be able to turn potential rapists' thoughts away from forcible sex and toward a healthier and victimless past-time.

One thing, though. Have you ever noticed that your organization's name is a bit awkward sounding? How often are people described as being "active for" accomplishing something. There is no Committee Active for New Cancer Research (C.A.N.C.R.) or Nebraskans Active for Making Barley a Legitimate Asset (N.A.M.B.L.A.). Frankly, your group's moniker sounds like a poor Japanese to English translation. I hate to think this, but it makes me wonder whether you came up with the name to fit the acronym.

Anyway, I read your statement about Jerry Seinfeld's rape humor. While promoting his family-friendly computer animated film Bee Movie, he made a joke along the lines that bees have the perfect society: no crime, no drugs, no rape. In a comedic aside, Seinfeld then stated that there may be a little rape, but it's not that bad.

While not as universal a humorous observation as his insight into the size of airline peanut bags (they are, evidently, very small), I don't believe Seinfeld's bee rape joke deserves the outrage you've forcibly thrust upon it. I disagree with you that rape jokes are never funny. I'll admit that rape is a terrible practice when committed upon a human being, but Seinfeld wasn't even discussing human-on-human rape. His humor involved rape between bees, which, as you know, are insects. Thus, a joke about bee rape is not only funny but entirely appropriate for children. If a parent can feel comfortable about his or her child enslaving insects in an ant farm, the same level of comfort should be afforded the idea of violent sexual crimes toward bees.

Here are some bee facts of which you should be aware:

1. In May of this year, a swarm of 3,000 bees attacked an American Cancer Society walk in Indiana.

2. In April, the emergency wing of the University of Arkansas Medical center had to be shut down to to an incoming horde of 7,000 bees.

3. Just weeks ago, a phalanx of some 30,000 bees terrorized the British coastal town of Bournemouth, downing a passenger jet headed for Portugal.

4. The monster that took my love, Meredith, away from me was a creature of tentacles and bees.

5. An insect with as large a body as a bee's should not be able to lift itself with such tiny wings. What dark magic is this?

As you can see, I bear no sympathy toward the bee, nor should you. They are a soulless breed of vengeful beasts. There is much humor to be found in their suffering, and I applaud Jerry Seinfeld's courage in taking a stand against them. You might even say that I am active for the ending of bees.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On the rule of law

2007-06-19T13:52:00.000-07:00

UPDATED BELOW

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Ken Ham, president, Answers in Genesis
Re: Unbiblicality

Dear Mr. Ham,

First of all, I want to thank you and your organization, Answers in Genesis, for building such a monumental piece of satire as the Kentucky creationism museum. Taking the absurdity of creationism and displaying it in the guise of childish papier-maché "exhibits" and cartoons of men taming dinosaurs is simply comedic genius.

And this most recent row your group is having with its Australian predecessor, Creation Ministries International, is just another exquisite rung on your ladder of parody. How bold of you both to involve yourselves in a public war of words. While the spectacle of accusing each other of acting in an "unbiblical" fashion is funny enough, I believe you have a unique opportunity here to probe deeper with your craft. Yes, the C.M.I.'s claim that your organization stole their mailing lists is an obvious example of biblical lawbreaking. And your counter-argument, that the C.M.I. is committing the sin of brother suing brother, equally plays to the common, ridiculous stereotypes of the genuinely faithful. But how about really casting a satirical light on the crazier rules and regulations of the Bible?

Here's the plan: draw up a press release asking the C.M.I., as "true people of God", to answer in the affirmative to any of these questions:

1. Do you have separate grazing areas for each kind of cattle you raise? (Leviticus 19:19)

2. Do you only wear clothes made of a single fabric? (Leviticus 19:19)

3. Do you refrain from cutting your hair and shaving? (Leviticus 19:27)

4. Do you execute all adulterers? (Leviticus 20:10)

5. Do you execute anyone who has cursed his mother? (Leviticus 20:9)

6. Do you banish any couple who has sex while the woman is on her period? (Leviticus 20:18)

7. Do you ban anyone who is disfigured, blind, or lame from entering your churches? (Leviticus 21:17)

8. Do you kill anyone of a different religion? (Deuteronomy 17:2)

Notice how I threw one from Deuteronomy in? No one ever checks there when looking for crazy laws, plus it has the added bonus of sounding funny. Deuteronomy.

Anyway, I know the last thing a seasoned comedian wants is advice on how to be funny, but I think this is an idea you can't afford to pass up. Unless, of course, you can think of a better one. Frankly, calling yourself "Ham" has to be the funniest part about your whole scam. Not only was he the son of a guy who managed to fit every animal on Earth into his boat, but his kids were cursed because he gave his dad a blowjob! Christ, that stuff is crazy! (Genesis 9)

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

RESPONSE
From: David Wright, answers representative, Answers in Genesis
To: Laurence Shandy
Re: Unbiblicality

Dear Laurence,

Thank you for contacting Answers in Genesis. Given your arguments against the Creation Museum it is apparent you have not truly researched what we believe or what is actually in the museum. So are you suggesting the exhibits are made of paper machines (i.e. “papier-mach”)? Actually, the exhibits are of top notch quality and use some of the latest technology (hence they are not made of “papier-mache” nor are they childish as you unsubstantially claim). And what is “absurd” about creation? Proclaiming your opinion does not make for a logical argument. Did you have any arguments? I pray you will take the time to read the many articles on our website and consider that without God and His Word (the Bible) scientific inquiry, logic and reasoning and morality and ethics would not be possible. Because in a world where there is no God and everything exists by random chance then there is no basis for any of the above.

Kind regards in Christ,
David Wright

REBUTTAL
From: Laurence Shandy
To: David Wright, answers representative, Answers in Genesis
Re: Unbiblicality

Dear Mr. Wright,

I see you insist on maintaining this deadpan front as an actual creationist. I'm consistently amazed by the commitment to craft I've seen in the various religious and social satirists with whom I've corresponded. Though my letter was meant for Ken Ham, I see that you are also a valuable member of his comedy team. Still, I have a few nits to pick with your latest presentation.

While an actual creationist would most likely pretend to grasp the intricacies of Latinate logical fallacies, I think that even someone observationally challenged enough to believe the Earth is only 6,000 years old would know that I did not, in fact, present any ad hominem attack in my letter. Indeed, it's not the personalities of the creationists that I (and, let's face it, you) are parodying. Instead, it's their lack of critical thinking skills which is in question. It is, in fact, childish to reject scientific knowledge in favor of a world view which does nothing but make one feel better about his or her ignorant beliefs.

Creationists can ignore layer upon layer of geological evidence in the same way that they ignore the brutal and petty rules supposedly set forth by God in Leviticus. Similarly, a child can ignore the authority of his wiser parents and insist that there are monsters under his bed which will eat him if not for a night light's protection. However, once the child grows up, he is forced to confront the fact that there has never been any sign of monsters under his bed. The evidence is considered, and a fantasy is abandoned. The creationists' inability to move beyond this elementary, pubescent stage of reasoning is what I'm pleased to find so expertly lampooned in your museum. When faced with the reality of dinosaur fossils, creationists are forced to admit the existence of giant reptiles. But instead of following the logical conclusion that these beasts walked the Earth before humanity, thereby nullifying their own plagiarized creation myth, they instead grasp at logical straws to fit said dinosaurs into their existent, comforting legends. Such is the genius of your museum's exhibit on Noah's Ark and its insistence that dinosaurs were somehow squeezed onto the boat with every other animal on Earth. There's a movie coming out this summer which reportedly spent $170 million on computer effects to make this Ark believable. Judging from the commercials I've seen during Project Runway reruns, the filmmakers have failed.

I quote from your hilarious letter: "What is 'absurd' about creation?" I agree that the simple posing of such a question is enough to elicit a chuckle, but I think you could take this further, comedically. Instead of referring to it as "creation", why not break the concept down into its literal parts, thus shining a brighter satirical light on them? Why not phrase it this way: "What is 'absurd' about believing that a supernatural being built a planet out of nothing, sculpted humanity from clay and ribs, and forced the inhabitants of this planet to worship Him for fear of eternal suffering?" You see how the question answers itself now? You and I know how ridiculous the idea of "creation" is, but there are others who may need it spelled out more clearly. After all, your museum will be dealing with people primarily educated in Kentucky's public school system.

You also repeat the rote creationist argument that without God, there would be no morality. Again, I believe you could more effectively cut to the quick of this absurdity by perhaps adopting a character who follows this belief to its logical conclusion. This character could set up a kind of conference at the museum during which he'll tell the children all about how every day he has to stifle the almost unbearable desire to rape and murder for fear of God's wrathful judgment. The children will be forced to consider the fact that they are naturally averse to the idea of rape and murder simply out of concern for themselves and their community. Later, when they read in their history books about the countless civilizations who have raped and murdered in the name of God, the full force of the satire will finally be felt.

What do you think, Mr. Wright? I doubt you'll need it, but if ever you want to call upon my consulting services again, feel free to do so.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, fan

On making a decision

2007-06-18T14:32:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

The next election for president of the United States is only a year and five months away. With so little time between now and then, several of you have been frothing at the mouth to know which candidate will receive my king-making endorsement. My instinct tells me to keep you in the dark. To draw out the anticipation and, thus, intensify the pleasure of revelation. It's the same instinct that tells me to tie a rubber band around the base of my scrotum during coitus -- tearing it off only after my partner's voice has gone hoarse with begging.

Truthfully, though, I've simply had a very difficult time deciding which of the candidates to throw myself behind. All of them have their pros and cons. For instance, there is America's first viable black candidate, Hillary Clinton, who, through no fault of her own, happens to be a middle-aged white woman. To wit:

And then there's veteran Senator Joseph Biden, who is not afraid to embrace all colors and races into America's workforce.

But what about Mike Gravel? With a back-to-basics style of campaigning, he's standing up for the fundamentals of human civilization. For example, the harnessing of fire.

With all these fine choices, it was hard to come to a decision. But when I saw this video from candidate Al Goldstein, I finally had to rip off the rubber band and let my support come spewing forth. Good luck, Al. I'm behind you.

On averting catastrophe

2007-06-15T11:33:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Planning and Urban Development, St. Paul, Minnesota
Re: Scientologists

Dear St. Paul city government,

Thank you for ruining my breakfast. I won't tell you which Hollywood starlet was fellating me under the table this morning (we'll just call her S. Johansson), but suffice it to say, my routine was abruptly cut off when I read the newspaper and discovered that your city is selling an abandoned dinosaur fossil warehouse to the cult of Scientology. I was so livid, I could barely reach my fourth ejaculation in S.'s mouth.

What a stunning lack of foresight! Don't you realize what a blight on the greater St. Paul area this building will now be? I can't think of a more potent recipe for mysterious chicanery and insidious plotting. You might as well have raised a Victorian style home on an old Indian burial ground and murdered a set of sextuplets inside.

An abandoned warehouse full of dinosaur fossils in the middle of your city wasn't enough to raise the creep quotient? Your urban planners weren't content with the high risk of misty, living tyrannosaur bones terrorizing the low-income housing projects and interstate bypasses? How many bloodthirsty cavemen could have thawed out and launched a killing spree on the downtown strip?

It's like you people have no brains at all. I'm so mad right now, I just came in S.'s eye!

And now you've handed the deed over to a celebrity-addled science-fiction cult. You've traded talons for Thetans. Come November, I only hope the electorate remembers who's responsible for the robe-clad, money grubbing personality auditors terrorizing the streets. How many power lines will be clipped when John Travolta lands his jets on your highways? How many people will be driven insane with curiosity when they pass a wandering Jenna Elfman and are left to wonder which show she used to be on?

Pray those meddling kids in their mystery machine put a stop to this before it becomes too unwieldy. Your only hope is that the alien prince inside the cult's inner sanctum turns out to be crazy old man Hubbard in a rubber mask.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On silver linings

2007-06-14T17:45:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Robert O. Mendelsohn, Yale School of Forestry and Agricultural Studies
Re: Canada's future

Dear Mr. Mendelsohn,

International literary superstar Laurence Shandy here. Much has been made of your recent comments on the benefits of global warming on the Canadian climate. Like Walt Disney taking the world for a ride in his Future-mobile, you've painted quite a rosy picture. Drastically reduced heating costs. Drastically increased agricultural yield. All the milk and honey locked up in Arctic glaciers and frozen tundra will finally melt and flow across the greater provinces. And though you cite it as a downside, the population of deadly polar bears will be all but extinct. Finally, humanity will once again reign atop the Yukon food chain.

However, I've noticed a suspicious chink in your credibility. You may work for Yale, but where is your doctorate, sir? Have the ivy league's standards so lowered that they would hire a faculty member without so much as a string of abbreviations after his name? Or is the truth more in line with my hypothesis? Is Yale's School of Forestry and Agricultural Studies nothing more than a pamphlet filler program? Who in his right mind would pay for a forestry degree from Yale? In a bit of undercover research, I paid $50 for a two-week associate's degree in forestry from the University of Phoenix Online, and the National Park Service says I'm overqualified.

Obviously, your tenure is a case of perfunctory nepotism. I'm sure some wealthy ancestor of yours paid to re-marble the Whiffenpoof house's foyer, so the administration feels they should saddle his semi-retarded grandson with a fake position and a nice monthly stipend.

So, since you don't have any real scientific credentials, then why are you trying to stir up interest in Canada's agricultural futures with all your climatological mumbo-jumbo? Is there, perhaps, an investment opportunity on the horizon?

If so, I want in. Don't try and shut me out, Mendelsohn. I know your secret, and I'm sure there are even more retarded grandchildren of even wealthier patrons who would like a nice corner office and his choice of nubile co-ed overachievers.

In fact, that sounds pretty good. Put me down for a quarter million in soybeans and a Kia Rio full of Freshman design majors.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On wizardry

2007-06-13T10:36:00.000-07:00

Dear readers,

Sometime before my late wife Meredith and I were married, we were on a Saturday evening date at the old Studio 54. That night, Andy Warhol took over the second floor lounge as he attempted to see how many Campbell's soup cans full of semen he could drink in one sitting. Meredith and I found a quiet corner and folded ourselves into what we thought was a leather sofa, but was actually a prostrate Lou Reed.

I looked deeply into Meredith's dilated pupils and produced a fresh rose from my refrigerated tuxedo jacket. Before she could gasp in awe and rub the flower on her MDMA-enhanced skin, a mysterious figure plucked the stem from my fingers. He was a tall man. Well-built and chiseled. The disco lights glared off his bald head.

"Have you ever dipped a rose in a bowl of liquid nitrogen?" the man asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he lowered the flower into a metal bowl heretofore unnoticed on the balcony railing. When he removed it, the rose steamed and stiffened -- a thin wash of crystals spreading across its petals. Then the man shattered the rose against Lou Reed's head.

As if such a wondrous feat weren't enough, he tipped over the bowl, spilling a stream of liquid nitrogen on William Katt's dancing body below -- hardening the Greatest American Hero into a living statue, where he still stands today.

It wasn't until years later, flipping through the cable channels, that I saw the mystery man again. He appeared to be instructing a child how to build a robot out of a trashcan and a remote control car. His name was Don Herbert. Mr. Wizard.

Mr. Herbert died yesterday. He was 89.

On image

2007-06-12T12:05:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Katie Couric, CBS Evening News anchor
Re: Tarting it up

Dear Katie,

Laurence Shandy here. It's been a while since we last met. I was on the Today show promoting my latest memoir, Shandy Do, Shandy Don't, and you and Matt weren't speaking. I forget what your quarrel was about. Something to do with the attention his body was getting at the time. I was chattier than normal, having downed a pint of crystal meth-laced orange juice to wake me up. I remember the commercial break when I reached between the buttons of Matt's shirt with one hand and grabbed a handful of your golden thigh with the other. I completed a circuit that morning. I felt an alternating current flowing from his abs to your gams and back again. Remember you asked me not to touch your leg, so I let go? But there was power there, Katie. I felt it.

And it's that very power of which Mr. Dan Rather is grossly unaware. His recent comments about how your move to CBS has "dumbed down" and "tarted up" the Evening News are both irresponsible and unfounded. If anything, your arrival in that hallowed chair has added just the right touches of ass and class that CBS so desperately needed.

Rather is a jealous, lonely old man. His liberal bias got the better of him, and now he's been shuffled away to the wild frontier of HDNet, where those with high definition televisions can finally see into every soiled pore on his pockmarked face. As a standard definition broadcast network, CBS gently ensconces you, Katie, in a soft, beautiful focus. All your blemishes and wrinkles, though few, are safely tucked away in the invisible folds between scan lines.

How dare Dan Rather accuse you of "tarting up" the news! Have you seen his gelled-up new hair style? It's pathetic. In trying to appear young, he's just betraying his slow decay into a gerontological puddle. He might as well smear his mouth with lipstick and offer to orally pleasure his tiny, dying audience.

Do you know why the Evening News' ratings are now the lowest they've been in twenty years, Katie? It's because of those toothless baby boomers who've jumped ship. Don't worry about them. Their social security will dry up soon, and when they can't afford to pay their heating bills, they'll all die of exposure. Let them flip the dial to ABC or NBC or Fox News. Let those networks court the advertising dollars of blood sugar detectors, arthritis medicines, and Matlock DVDs. Right now, you and your network should be focused on cultivating sponsorships with compact cars, student loan providers, and Taco Bell. When the old and enfeebled finally whither away, guess who's going to be on top?

I do have one suggestion, though. Remember when you guest hosted The Tonight Show and they cut away Leno's desk so we could see your silky, electric legs? You've successfully toned down your Good Humor Man-esque wardrobe from Today, but I miss catching a peek of those getaway sticks.

Think about it.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On setting the record straight

2007-06-11T12:44:00.001-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gov. Mike Huckabee, G.O.P. presidential candidate
Re: Guantanamo

Dear Gov. Huckabee,

Laurence Shandy again. Rarely do I write two letters to the same person within a week, but I can't let slide another gross misunderstanding of your words. Last week, the press jumped on your statement that you don't know whether the Earth was created in six days by a supernatural sociopath named God. I saw your comment for what it was: a parody of the unthinking religious base to which you so refreshingly refuse to pander.

But there must be some kind of media conspiracy against you, Mike, because the rabid bloggers are barking again. This time it's in response to your interview with CNN's Wolf Blitzer concerning Colin Powell's statement that our terrorist prison in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba should be shut down. In reply, you said that inmates in Arkansas' state prisons "would love" to be in Gitmo. This, unfortunately, was again misconstrued as some kind of underinformed, borderline retarded political gaffe.

You can't win with these people, Mike. For once you drop your delicious satirical verbosity and make a sad, straightforward point. You've been to Guantanamo. You know what conditions are like there. You know that those terrorists are kept under the perpetual buzz of fluorescent lights in chicken wire cells. You know that they're blinded when moved from place to place in the camp and forbidden to talk in groups of three or more. You know that they're sleep deprived, beaten, chained in the fetal position on concrete floors, gagged with duct tape, flashed with strobe lights, and held for years without access to lawyers or a fair trial.

Your point wasn't to paint Guantanamo in some falsely rosy hue. Indeed, your point was to highlight the utter horrors of the Arkansas state prison system. As bad as the Guantanamo detainees have it, the prisoners in your home state have it much, much worse. At least the terrorists are waterboarded with actual water. Arkansas' prisoners are strapped down and showered in cow piss and horse semen. Guantanamo's most wanted may have had their faces smeared with hookers' menstrual blood, but isn't that preferable to having your face smeared by a guy named T-Bone's "menstrual" blood? T-Bone doesn't even have a vigina! So, where did the blood come from?

Of course Wolf Blitzer would never ask such a question. He's too busy grooming his beard and counting his paychecks to do any real journalism.

We're a dying breed. If you're elected president, remember who understood you in your time of need. And for God's sake, try and do something about Arkansas' state prisons.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman

On facing racism

2007-06-08T13:04:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Alberto Gonzales, United States Attorney General
Re: No-confidence

Dear Gonzo,

So, on Monday the Senate is going to vote on whether to pass a no-confidence resolution against you. I'm sorry to see partisan politics come to this. There hasn't been such an obviously political parliamentary procedure in the congress since Bill Clinton's impeachment trial. They created a witch hunt out of nothing. Sure, all you did was fire politically unsympathetic U.S. attorneys and replace them with unqualified cronies. Someone has to keep an eye on activist judges. And sure, you lied to congress and said you didn't recall making any of those decisions. Well, that's positively Reagan-esque, if you ask me.

In the same way, an independent prosecutor violated every one of Bill Clinton's civil liberties and rights to presidential privacy simply because he got a blowjob in the oval office. So what if he bombed a Sudanese medical factory when Kenneth Starr started snooping around the West Wing? So what if he killed a few civilians while pretending to bomb Osama bin Laden when an impeachment trial was on the horizon? And so what if he arbitrarily bombed Iraq after his testimony was made public? These weren't abuses of power. These were simply uses of power. And as attorney general, you were just using your power to shore up some political support. Hell, at least you didn't kill anybody in the process.

Frankly, I believe that this congressional outrage is nothing more than a pose. They're after you because of your race, Gonzo, not because of your actions. Remember when you told Wolf Blitzer that your grandparents were illegal immigrants? Well, so do those racist, Mexican-hating Senators who killed Bush's immigration bill. They can blame as much crime on illegal immigrants as they want. Lord knows how many times I see a hazy sketch of a vaguely Latino suspect on the local news' crime blotter. But the simple fact is that these lawmakers are in the pockets of big business, and big business wants to hold on to its cheap, easily blackmailed illegal labor force. Those who would try and bring you down don't see your grandparents and people like them as huddled masses yearning to breathe free. No, they see them as their brownish lawnboys yearning to breathe through one of those dust masks. If this congress had been in session when your grandparents crawled across the Texas border, you may not even be here now. And then who would "abuse" the power of the justice department? Who would be playing politics with terror alerts? Who would be authoring torture plans?

You think that WASPy John Ashcroft could have done any of those things? That pussy called it quits over a little illegal wiretapping. But you? You know when the illegal can be overlooked for the greater good. It's in your blood.

And you'll work for a third of the salary Ashcroft did.

Mis mejores deseos,
Laurence Shandy, caballero

On peace of mind

2007-06-07T10:53:00.000-07:00

From: Laurence Shandy
To: Gov. Mike Huckabee, Republican presidential candidate
Re: Faith

Dear Gov. Huckabee,

Last Tuesday's G.O.P. presidential debate on CNN was quite a hoot. I invited my society friends over to the penthouse for a drinking game bonanza. We played the Rudy Giuliani drinking game, wherein a shot is taken every time he mentions 9/11. We played the Mitt Romney drinking game, wherein one looks into a top hat and pretends to translate golden tablets, but is instead taking a shot of Schnapps. And we played the immigration hysteria drinking game, wherein one of my illegal manservants is punched in the solar plexus every time the word "amnesty" is uttered. Ten minutes in, and we were already drunk, sore, and laughing our hors d'oeuvres right onto the rhino skin rug.

And then came the creationism question.

When Wolf Blitzer asked you if the Earth was created in six days, and you said "I don't know; I wasn't there", I almost pissed myself. Okay, full disclosure. I did piss myself. Luckily Enrique was there to sponge it up before I could punch him again in the solar plexus.

"I don't know; I wasn't there."

Such pithy and succinct satire in that phrase. Not only does it deftly lampoon the argument from ignorance that is creationism itself, but it also parodies the dearth of critical thinking skills among creationists.

But in the middle of my laughing fit, Dominick Dunne grabbed my shoulder and shook me violently. "It's not a joke, Laurence," he screamed in his high-pitched squeal. "The madman means what he says!"

Silence. Broken only by the sound of Miguel, the massage therapist, dropping to the floor in pain.

I spent the rest of the evening chalking up Dunne's outburst to his usual sloppy journalism. Of course it couldn't be true. A man who's lost as much weight as you can't be that stupid, can he? What kind of short-circuited logic could make a man hold out the possibility that a supernatural being wished the Earth into existence just because he wasn't there to see it never happened? By that rationale, how could the men who made up the Bible know that the creation story they plagiarized wasn't fictional if they weren't around to see it never occurring?

Do you see where I'm having trouble with this, governor? Look, my vote isn't at stake here. Even if those felonies are stricken from my record, I still wouldn't enter an unsterilized voting booth. But someone of my status needs to be on good terms with any potential president. I have expensive and diplomatically questionable habits, and I need the safety net of a presidential pardon. Frankly, I'd like to know how easily I can manipulate you. If you are the deft satirical genius I think you may be, then I welcome the challenge of dealing with you for four to eight years. Please tell me Dunne's wrong again.

And please make sure my illegal help stays illegal. I hate to miss a bargain.

Best wishes,
Laurence Shandy, gentleman