On psychic animals

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