gary: enemy of peanutkind

dear peanut guy,

can you tell me how a roasted peanut becomes a salted peanut. i am
looking for the exact procedures.

much appreciated,
~gary

dear gary,

why don't we come clean, pal? we're both adults here. so let's have it out: you're in cahoots with james, aren't you "gary"? say, "gary," why don't we settle this like gentlemen, in an old-fashioned match of food? if you're truly mature, as i am, then we should have no problem going toe to toe in a food match. incidentally, the peanut clan elders have informed me i have unbridled access to a most cruel iron maiden built to your exact proportions. now, you know the rules:

first, you collect 75kg of food.

then, we both say our battle chants.

finally, the one with the most food wins.

but here's the catch: was it food or was it only a mystic illusion created by means unknown to you--a secret of the peanut clan???

beware,
the peanut guy!

james: enemy of peanutkind

dear peanut guy,

i was wondering what the name of the skin on the peanut is called.
not the shell, the stuff that gets stuck in your teeth.

thanks,
~james

dear james,

i am seething. thy long-winded and offensive monologues shall be tolerated no longer, nor shall thy provincial slang and mockingly civil ways. as i sit at my laughably tiny desk, quill in hand, i can think of no greater medicine for my rage than to crouch over thine shrunken head, wedging myself between thy teeth until thine agony matches that of my fallen brothers and sisters. yet i was raised, as are all civilized nuts, by the doctrine of freshness, and thy large and tender rind shall not hinder the noble standards of my upbringing.

i recall the fateful words of peanut gal as she lay on her festering cot, seconds before the kudzu ripped apart the foundation:

let not the tooth,
with wholesome bite,
distract me from my pants;
my pants are large,
my buttons bright,
they beckon me to dance.

let this be a lesson to you,
the peanut guy!

"every day at school something has to bother me"

Dear Peanut Guy,

Hi, I'm Tracy and I have a problem. Every day at school something has to bother me. One day, I wanted to play with my friend Ashley, but my other friend Kelly wanted to play with me too. I don't know who to play with. I like both of my friends very much, but when I play with one of my friends, my other friend gets mad at me. I even tried playing with both of them and asking them what they both like to do, but it never works. I don't know what to do!!

Please Help!
~Tracy

dear tracy,

like a squid trying to play the accordion, it's clear you're out of your league and really pissing everyone off at the coral reef. ashley and kelly obviously admire your sleek, rubbery body and your seemingly endless ink sac. but what can they offer you?

as usual, the peanut elders have addressed your problem in their oft-cited 1664 treatise "seduced by the salt: the secret curse of the magnetically radiant rind":

...for she of the stalk most silken hath plentiful nuts, and naught but a handful crave friendship, but rather to see their rinds' reflection in the glistening sheen of her radiant stalkfeathers...

the scarlet women ashley and kelly are of the latter ilk, dear tracy.

ashley is like the snake - she is conniving, and her teeth are pointy and filled with venom which must be sucked out immediately by the nearest ranch hand. kelly is like the locust - harmless when alone, but a most cruel leviathan when accompanied by her three trillion clones whose deafening onslaught rape the earth and blacken the sky, causing unspeakable suffering until the next rainy season.

for this reason, i suggest swift, clandestine action against ashley and an immediate playground alliance with kelly. she is hideous and malevolent, but her powers will prove invaluable when you rise to power and reign for a thousand years as the cruel dark princess of garfield middle school.

mercilessly,
the peanut guy!

holy undergarments gets pantsed

dear peanutguy,

yesterday at work we were all standing around the water cooler and i was trying to talk to the cute new guy when stoopid stacy pantsed me in front of everybody! now everyone knows my mum embroiders portraits of saints on my underwear. what revenge should i take? and how do i ask that hot guy out?

~holy undergarments

dear holy undergarments

i will humor your wolf-pack of dog-lies with a gentleman's response, for integrity is the way of the peanut clan.

first, no god-fearing man-child would ever dare violate thy sanctified naughties. You should dash the sacred underpants just as the harlot stacy dashed your dreams.

as henry david thoreau once said, "vengeance is a dish best served cold." the peanut clan scriptures provide us with a useful corollary: "when in doubt, make it stinky."

place upon her desk a gift-wrapped gazpacho with a tag reading "to stacy. from: antonio banderas." only this: put a tiny bit of poop in there (!)

then, stage another pants-dropping scenario revealing a new pair of enchanting underthings embroidered with a signed portrait iron-on patch of famed occultist aleister crowley! your muscle-bound hero will be putty in your fiendish clutches.

saltily thine,
the peanut guy!

to french or not to french

Dear Peanut Guy,

I can’t get myself to French Kiss this guy I like a lot! I have never done it and I can’t get myself to do it. How do you do it? What else could we do to stay intimate other than sex?

Signed,
~ Never Been Kissed

dear never been kissed,

if love were a meat, it would be beef tenderloin - cut from the juiciest, most tender middle of the cow of life. the key to happiness, NBK, is to season the love with onions, seasonings, and sometimes raw eggs. only thusly can we blend the perfect steak tartare of happiness.

sadly, "frenching" your man is the only way to stay intimate other than sex, known amongst the peanut folk as the sashimi of intimacy - the first course of food-love. you are ordered to french him. here's how:

discretely cover his eyelids in yuba

powder your lips delicately with horseflesh

carefully place the LP "private eyes" by hall & oates on your turntable

recite the pledge of allegiance

open mouth

commence frenching

adieu,
the peanut guy!