easy as 123...or simple as do re mi, STD, 123 baby you and me, girl!!!

Come on come on come on let me show you what it's all about...


We should not only use the brains we have, but all that we can borrow.
- Woodrow Wilson

Having said that, I may not have much gray matter to lend, but bloody hell, these lot this week are a buncha goddamn neanderthals, eh? Sigh.

The original letters can be found HERE.

Away we go!


Shaken – This letter is an abysmal exercise in wordsmithing. Recap: You're Islamic (irrelevant) and suffered an arranged marriage (irrelevant) and have a son you “adore” (like you'd say you don't adore him?). Next: your wife has an STD, and you wonder if it's just a “D” with no “ST”. You have doubts.

Sounds like another poorly constructed and fake DP letter to me. Jeez.

Anyway, have no doubts, my friend: HPV is not transmitted from the toilet seat or trying on bikinis previously tried by an infected woman. Her naughty parts got it through contact with either your naughty parts or someone else's naughty parts. Are you sure your naughty parts are clean? And by the way, I do not mean that in some Islamic “I'm male therefore I can fuck whatever walks and Allah says “kewl” but women who have extramarital sex are wicked whores to be flogged and passed around like sexual party favors among their male family members before they are beaten to death and buried in a shallow grave in a display of honorable behavior” sort of way. Sorry. I'm American. I wouldn't kill my wife or daughter for having a shag with a Protestant.

So you really really didn't dip your colossal kebab into some other girl's glorious gaping gahnoush? Reeeally?

Regardless, you have some thinking to do, doncha? Bummer to go through this, but be real about it. She's human, you're human, something happened, and the truth won't stay hidden forever. Welcome to the real world – this is why I don't espouse virginity before marriage: stupid religious practice that should be banned.


Ringless – Brainless is more like it. So:

Dear Brainless – this letter represents a bizarre and elliptical journey through that viscous, opaque insipidity that is your infantile and worthless mind. Recap: Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl wants a big fucking rock to flaunt to her horrorshow ptitsas or else there will be no nuptials. Boy says “um, wtf?” and somehow still believes girl isn't “overly superficial.” Boy then actually writes a letter to Dear Prudence, simultaneously airing this idiocy and asking “um, huh?”

Cue the cheesy game show music...

“Coming to you live, from his studio office in Charlotte, North Carolina; it's time for The Schuyler The Cat Tells You What The Fuck To Do Show!!! (applause). And here's our host: Schuyler The Cat!” (applause).

“Hi everyone – I'm Schuyler The Cat and welcome to my show (applause)! Today's contestant is a semi-brain damaged, dickless twatrocket from Somewhere, USA (applause)! His issue: his girlfriend, a super-duperficial debutante Jersey Shore reject, wants a big fat diamond ring or she won't marry him! He wonders: wait, fall for it, or leave the bitch!

Today's prop du jour: the decision wheel (applause)!

Step on up, Brainless, and spin the wheel!!!”


“Oooooooh, no! I'm sorry Brainless, the wheel landed on 'who gives a flying goddamn frog fuck?' Nobody cares about your stupid ass problem! You're outta here (applause)!!!”

“And that's it for today's The Schuyler The Cat Tells You What The Fuck To Do Show!!! Come back tomorrow to see the crack addict who stole his dad's credit cards! Dad sez: turn him in, or just forgive him?”

(applause) (fade to black)


Juris Doctorate Who Would Rather Be a Doctor – holy crap, girl: how the fuck did you get through school with that complete goddamn vacuum amidst your cranial cavity? Juris Jiminy Jumpin' Jesus Christ, you're a fucking lawyer? We should all weep for mankind. Mesothelioma was invented for dingleshit morons like you.

Recap: you went to law school. You wish you'd gone to med school. You don't wanna be a lawyer. You wanna be a doctor. I got this. Ready?

Go to fucking medical school.

Yeah, you're welcome, dipshit. I should charge what YOU charge. Then I could go buy me a new goddamn Mercedes, you witless wonder.


Oscar Shark – and I thought the previous letter was horrifyingly stupid. Recap: you had a wager at your party. Your wife won, you came in second. You wonder if this is a problem, or a social faux pas.

Hey! Ever seen a placenta? Odd question, I know, but stay with me here.

I delivered my son myself, and I looked the placenta over pretty carefully. Goopy and bloody and pretty dang gross – looks like a cross between the face-hugging things from “Alien” and a bad cut of beef. They do not smell good. They are generally considered nonessential after a baby is born.

Here's a reason for this discourse: In your case, I suspect the placenta was probably the most intelligent thing your mother expelled from her vagina on the day of your birth.

Listen carefully...I'll go real slow-like: Betting and gambling and wagering and that sort of activity produces two things. Winners and losers. Every fucking time, this is the case. Get that?

Your wife won. You won, too. Whoopie fucking do. Your friends don't fucking care. You are a dipshit. Go blow the goddamn money on some brains or something, because you're scary stupid. Yeah, I know you only got like eighty bucks, but maybe your wife can loan you some of her winnings, and let's face it: anything you add to your intellectual capacity is a major increase, for you.


Rain rain rain. Not that big self-important rain that shakes the house in fat fury, just a sniveling drizzle that keeps everything wet and dull and gray. Icky weather we may be having here, but spring has started to make itself known nonetheless, with buds on the trees and temps in the high 60's around these parts, the weather lifting it's skirts like a flirting girl promising something far, far better. I won't miss winter much. Come August I'll miss winter, but that's another story.

Be well, my beloved Flysters. May the road rise up to meet you, may the wind be ever at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rain fall softly on your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand, if you believe in God and all that kinda stuff.

Salud. STC =^oo^=


  1. That was one heck of a Psuedie, this week, SC! I Grinned real loudly! =-)

    Happy St Patrick's day to you, my friend and:

    May love and laughter light your days,
    and warm your heart and home.
    May good and faithful friends be yours,
    wherever you may roam.
    May peace and plenty bless your world
    with joy that long endures.
    May all life's passing seasons
    bring the best to you and yours!

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  3. Oh 'Cat! You got SPAM! This has to be a first on The Fly! Dang, so far I can't even get people to tell me I'm fulla crap, and you managed to get an online betting parlour to steal advertising. *jealous*

    Brilliant as always, especially #1. I'm shocked that no one's been on the Fray making excuses for the slimeball to get rid of his wife.

    Did you see the vacation photos on my portal page?

  4. SPAM! I ROCK!!!

    Funny thing - people who come to me for "suggestions/feedback/reviews" are asking the wrong guy, doncha think? What the hell are you thinking? You already suck dead buffalo ass for spamming!

    Libby - I like that salutation! Thanks!

    Mess - welcome home! Saw the pitchers. Damn, you have a really good eye...

  5. "Here's a reason for this discourse: In your case, I suspect the placenta was probably the most intelligent thing your mother expelled from her vagina on the day of your birth."

    It's not often that I literally laugh out loud. I mean, sure, I do the whole LOLOL thing on the Internet because, well, that's what's done. But, in the case of the quote above, I was reading along, thinking--first about actually delivering my own child, wow, dude, that's pretty cool--about where in the hell you were going. I mean, I knew it'd be good but, the pay off was not just good, it was grand! And yes, I did, literally, laugh out loud. Right here, by myself, no one to share it with except my cup of coffee (which, frankly, didn't give a shit, it just sat there, not even a smile from it, the bastard). But *I* think you rock! AND you got SPAM! How cool is that?! That's like getting a thumbs down from Tarky! :-)

    Now, I did read that HPV can be dormant for years, can transfer naughty bits-to-mouth and mouth-to-naughty bits, and can even transfer mother to child, but, hell, the deal is either that he trusts her or he doesn't, so, there you go. The real life you mention? Yepper, have a feeling everyone involved is about to get a big ol' nasty dose of it. And sounds like as many as two of the three that'll be most affected don't even deserve it. Oh well. That's the real life thing, too, eh?

    Great stuff, man. As always. :-)

  6. Thanks, Smaggy!

    A bit on the HPV thing: I know fuck-all about it, actually, and was talking out my ass. I know it's a bad thing and grinding bits of yummy wet body parts into one another can cause it, but aside from that I figure you can get it from sniffing glue or mowing the lawn. Didn't really care. That guy is a fucking dickweed, though isn't he? =^oo^=

  7. Hey Schuyler! I didn't know much about HPV prior to this, either. Matter of fact, I honestly thought that it occurred *as a product of sex.* I don't mean, like, spontaneously. But, I understood things to be such that once a woman had sex, and her juices mixed with guy juices (to really oversimplify the issue), that conditions were such that, well, contraction of the condition was just sort of pretty much assured. I didn't even realize it was an STD (I know, the "V" in there should have been a clue, but, I ain't known for my smarts)! I thought most sexually active women had it--that it was a condition, and, that was that! So, see, ignorance abound, I guess. :-) All I know is that I'm not examining my wife's gyno records so closely that I know if her pH has dropped a tenth of a percent in a year and I sure as hell am not going to accuse her of cheating because of it. Such is life.

    Good cheer, Mate! :-)

  8. Great post Schuyler! It blew in with the wind and the rain, but we're used to it in these parts.

    That placenta comment was sooo funny. could you hear me laughing from one side of the continent to the other?

    My understanding of HPV is that it's also a cancer and can kill a woman and indeed it can lie dormant before it manifests itself in the form of cancer. I haven't looked it up though so I'm not up on it. They have a new vaccine for it...

    I too noticed the spam. The Fly has made it into the big time!

  9. Oops1 I forgot to say that I really liked the sound effects! The wheel turning and...

  10. Cat,

    On condoms: condoms don't really protect against HPV. Why I am not sure but they don't.

    Of course, it's difficult to tell which men have it because _there's no male test for HPV_. I think the female test is kind of weak too, and only backed up by cervical changes that presage cervical cancer. (To kati, hpv is not cancer but can cause it).

    HPV awareness for men is much lower, partly because its tie to male cancers is much lower and partly because we can't test. People have asked why men don't get the HPV vaccine and we hear crickets.

  11. Topher, thanks for the info.

    I understood that HPV can lead to cancer and doesn't cause it in all cases, but it's often discovered at the same time as cancer is discovered. My understanding (limited!) is that pap smears and even the better HPV tests don't always catch it, so sometimes, as you mention, it takes symptoms to find out.

    At any rate the LW should have been worried about his wife's health and survival rather than whether or not she was unfaithful. I sure would worry if any of my loved one was diagnosed with HPV.

  12. Topher: really? Shows yet again how little I know about it. Makes me want to look into it, too. I have kids aged 5 and 8. I need to know these things.

    Gawd, people: an old married guy like me can now truly rejoice and say, for the record, "fucking hell I'm glad I don't have to date anymore!!!"

  13. There are several different strains of the HPV virus, four of which cause almost ALL cervical cancers. Most oncologists and gynecologists have never encountered a cervical cancer that was not caused by warts. The Human Papilloma Virus that we're talking about here is just a variation on the same virus that causes warts on your hands (and runs through elementary schools like wildfire).

    That's why vaccinating girls is so important. The vaccine doesn't just prevent HPV, it prevents most cases of a cancer that is so virulent no one talks about "cure" rates, just remission rates. The cancer is difficult to detect and moves quickly. Most victims never find out they have it until it's far too late to do anything about it.

    In a way, I find it somewhat distressing that cervical cancer is still largely ignored. People give millions upon millions of dollars to breast cancer charities when breast cancer is one of the LEAST lethal cancers around. Cervical is one of the deadliest, and there just isn't enough pressure to spend some research dollars on dealing with it.

    A final tidbit - heart disease is currently the number one cause of death among women.

  14. Pssst. Schuyler. Check your e-mail. I need a headline, O Great Guru.

  15. Schuyler, WTF? Ptitsa? Nadsat? I suppose the word "horrorshow" should have been the giveaway.

    Don't you ever wonder how creatures so empty-headed as to write a letter to the completely brainless Dear Prudie manage to hold the big markers between their foreward expremities and make semi-coherent marks on paper?

    Doesn't that visualization make you worry? It scares hell out of me.

  16. Aha! Another Anthony Burgess fan, eh Tonto? I'd forgotten what Nadsat actually was - needed to look it up!

    Sigh, for these people. You know i still believe a lot of this crap is simply culled from real letters (I can't imagine a blog like DP wouldn't get a good amount of chaff for it's radar) and rehashed into a somewhat more grammatically digestible, if not believable, form. The visualization, by the way, has the cretinous writers holding real pretty Crayolas.