the proverbial five months chat

Dear Peanut Guy,

My online boyfriend disappeared after five months chat? Everything was ok till the last day we talked.What should I do?
Should I email him again?

worried,
~Julija H

dear julija,

my rind buckles beneath the incalculable prescience contained in the following peanut proverb-of-old:

those who dismember rhizobia tendrils
are the same who plug blowholes of whales;
when they're not leaving poop in the doorways of sages,
they're sending mom farts in the mail.

the last day you talked he was preening his stalk
for a night of weird digital passion
but the gods guarantee, to the umpteenth degree
that his rind is now saltless and ashen.

this plebe shall remember the ides of november,
now he roams the bleak plane of mistakes.
and if it be your will, then the ancients shall fill
his canteen up with infinite snakes.

for east europeans are very well seasoned--
they're the boston baked beans of the sentient;
and to be done with that after five months of chat
is the ultimate zenith of deviance.

merely say the word, sweet julija.
sweet julija; let us be friends.

brazenly,
the peanut guy!

the ralph macchio of the '00s

Dear Peanut Guy,

There's this guy I've been just hooking-up with. I would see him once a week for a simple roll in the hay, and i'd sleep over. I wont call him or text or anything because i don't want him to think i expect this whole FWB thing we have going on to turn into anything. Normally when we're hanging out i wont touch him, i wont care if he's talking to a girl on the phone, or even making plans with another girl. I wont hang on him, or flirt, NOTHING! Within the past week he has invited me over 5 times,he's always flirting, and i've caught him looking in my eyes alot lately. He ims me everyday even if its just to say hi and see how im doing.

He got mad when we were watching 8 mile and i said Eminem was hott! He playfully hit me in the stomach, and then randomly said that he wanted to have sex with this girl i knew one more time! i was like what? why? So i hit him back. and just smirked. Do you think that he's trying to make me jealous, and that he wants to take what we have to the next level?

I'm so confused!

~Please Help!!!!

dear please,

ah, to be young! for long and fair were the halcyon days of my youth, and more than a few "fabaceae with benefits" did i encounter upon the way:

there was fair Stilgar, that salty pre-med wonder with ears like moonlit silt on a frosted treefern; to look into her coal-black eyebuds was to gaze upon the very core of earthen harlotry!

there was Throgmart, beloved princess of syrupy creamed yogurt, heir to the gilded tiara of St. Radagast, and the world's preeminent catheter scholar (among soda jerks)!

and at last there was the silken, magnificent Horndurf; that fabled dreamboat whose eyes were a billion screaming stars braying like charged lepers in the rich, cosmic dust of some planetary afterbirth. to consider for one fleeting second the intricate details of her perfectly salted posterior was to dive headlong into the beating heart of universal rindlust. how her root nodules teemed with nitrogen-rich rhizobia! how her radiant calyx glistened beneath sepals of infinite delight! for her i would have slogged a thousand rods through the inkblack depths of the Sub-Georgian Horror Plains. and but for her unhealthy preoccupation with Ralph Macchio, "the Eminiem of the 1980s," i may have had the chance. from me she was spirited away in some Macchiovian sports car, gone forever.

FWB, sweet PH, are like farts in the wind. beautiful? without compare. sweet? beyond earthly measure. pleasing to the ear? like a thousand interwoven symphonies written and performed by choirs of Juliard-trained angels. but fleeting, PH. ever fleeting.

i counsel thee to trust not the clutches of thy barnyard companion of the hour, but to prepare thy hay for a romp with the apple of thine eyes: jimmy "b-rabbit" smith!

aim for the heavens, dear PH. FWB are fleeting, but Eminem is forever.

with pomp,
the peanut guy!

la ballata de la freshman senza data

dear peanut guy,

HI! I HAVEN'T HAD A BOYFRIEND FOR ALMOST *8* MONTHS, freshman, AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE GUYS LIKE ME. WHAT MAKES YOU LIKE A GIRL?

~DATELESS

dear DATELESS,

ask the peanut guy what makes him like a girl and you bring a soft, subtle tear to his salty, salty eye. let me count the ways...from the 10 commandments of peanut love! ready, set, feast!:

scrub not thy stalk, for thou art lovely

seek not the salt of the ancients, for its scent is un-savory

what lies beneath the rind?: the innards and thistle

salt thy rind daily

dare to flaunt thy silken stalk

the written word shall haunt thee speak in tongues in tune

applause from your hull rings out with dances in time

bring forth thy bountiful harvest and sing sans tune nor grace

burgle thy peanut kisses, as cookies from the starv-ed child

search beneath the seed coat and ye shall find the brawn of ages

live by these simple rules, DATELESS, and you shall turn *8* MONTHS of loneliness into *8* ETERNITIES of happiness.

feast,
the peanut guy!

i suck at sports...especially running

Hey Peanut Guy,

I'm 13 years old, in 8th grade. Well, since the end of last school yer, I've really liked this guy in my school. I hardly know him, but I just feel that he is right for me. (And I think he's so adorably cute) Also, he is hilarious, which is a good thing. He even danced with me and signed my yearbook. My question is, how do I get to know him? I want to get really close to him. I don't expect a dating relationship becuase I've only had one boyfriend before, and I don't think anyone likes me. I also wanted to ask, what do I do? The same guy that I like is in my gym class, and I SUCK at sports...especially running. When we have to do the mile, I'm going to feel like a complete moron..any suggestions for me?

Thanks!
~Sara

dear sara,

my suggestions are endless as the sands of time. start here: carry one sack of flour in each hand at all times. "who's the girl with the flour sacks?" they'll say. and in time, "why, that's sara the dame!" he'll reply.

know thee, sara, that 8th grade is a vicious time. it's the spanish inquisition of adolescence and few if any escape its malice. the sacks will carry you through, young sara. the sacks will carry you through. consider my story:

t'was 8th grade, 1845. i had the biggest crush on the delectable peanut marie. she asked me for a raisin in home ec, but i just ran out. my heart sank. all the others laughed at peanut guy as his stalk wilted in distress. but then, from the bowels of my being: "a prune, perhaps?" sang i, in glass-shattering tenor, and the skies opened, revealing a neverending prunestorm that swallowed us all.

then, hidden 'neath the prunes, peanut marie came to me and sang sweetly in my rindpipe:

t'was written in the peanut tome
one would call all prunekind home
and at the beckon of marie
would steal a kiss of nougat foam

and here beneath the deep prune sea
i clutch you ever close to me
and at the beckon of marie
i offer you this pocket comb

the comb was all i ever got from marie, dear sara. but the comb secretes pomade in limitless quantities, and can decode animal thoughts.

what's the moral?: carry your sacks the day of the mile, sara. let him come to you. and in time, he will learn to call you master.

der erzherzog der erdnüsse,
the peanut guy!

"he would never call my name when he was joking"

Hi Peanut Guy,

How can you tell if a boy likes you? and when a boy dos'nt like you how can you make them like you .. see i have this boy i had my eyes on, but he moved and before he moved he would never call my name when he was joking. right now i just wanna know how to get the guy i want.

~patient in south carolina

dear patient,

many skulls have been cracked, many snacks have been snacked, in the age-old effort to determine whether the object of one's desires reciprocates. the ancient peanut scriptures suggest staging a series of screaming scenarios to gauge his reaction:

place a honey baked ham in his locker, but not before decorating it with hot tamales in the unmistakable face of vincent price. rig the ceiling tiles above his locker to spill millions of tiny skull-confetti when he opens it. also, put a tape recorder in there to play "greensleeves" sung by vincent price. as soon as he opens the locker, jump out covered in syrup, wallow at his feet and scream frantically like you're being eaten alive by horde of milk vipers. if he gives you a dollar, it was meant to be. if not...

place a note in his locker explaining you'd like to make it up to him at 8pm in the teacher's lounge. turn the lights down low and leave a xia dynasty vase filled with three perfect tulips on the coffee table. at length, emerge from behind the coffee table wearing your wedding dress and commence screaming as if death was upon you. if a single tear falls from his chiseled cheek onto the petals of the perfect tulips, it was meant to be. if not, you're going to have to move to plan B: make him like you.

use fairy dust to haunt his dreams with visions of walking the plank. only this: the plank is made of roast beef, and the pirates all have the face of alexander hamilton.

enter the dream as aaron burr, eat the roast beef with your mighty republican jaw, and save him from the federalists, who are jerks.

when he wakes he shall always call your name when he is joking, and he shall move no more forever.

boldly,
the peanut guy

sorority function : earth

dear peanut guy,

ok i have a sorority function on friday and want to ask this guy to go. the problem is i don't really know him i have just seen him around and am interested in him and think he may be fun to go with and meet someone new. so i was wondering how i should approach him and ask with out soudning stupid b/c i don't know him. the thing is this friday and i wanted to ask him by wednesdaty at the latest. so thanks for helping me out!

~sincerely, stressed sorority girl

dear stressed sorority girl,

in an instant my skull was filled with light and sound. from overhead, the cawing of carrion birds sifted through my cloudy earbones and the answer came to me from afar. i saw you tiptoeing through the dormitory, with functions on the horizon; functions galore. 'who shall take me to the functions?' you called out in vain. would it be peanut guy?...

the gods got together to plan their own function and called it earth. said one to the other, "would but i had a date to the function!" replied the other, "ah, and how to ask without soudning stupid! for i wanted to ask jerry by 'wednesdaty', but 'thursdaty' it is, and jerry prances about in the rocky, violent terrain of this freshly born world looking cavalier as ever!" at this point, jerry stops by and bows gracefully. "why meet someone new when the peanut guy is right o'er yonder?"

a ray of light appeared in the distance and the earth shook. it was a man made of peanut, in all of his handsome majesty. soon jerry meant nothing, and the gods all took peanut guy to the prom and bathed him in candy while jerry sat about twiddling his thumbs and was promptly consumed in volcanic ash.

now i ask you...dream or destiny?!
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!

steevie's good nighte kiss

Dear Nut man,

My name is steevie. I have two questions for you. MY first quesiton is how can you have a website you're apeanut?!

MY second question is a bout girls. I know this girl, A, who wants to date but I don't know where to take her or what do to odo for a date. What should i do to really WOW her for the date? CAn i kiss her at the end of the nighte???

LEt me know if you can help me.

Signed,
~ Steevie the Man

dear steevie "the man",

although you are clearly a drooling, pantsless philistine unworthy of my georgian quill, i shall answer thine appeals pursuant to clause five, section ten of the peanut clan scriptures:

"whosoever tosseth the drooling and pantsless a bone shall receive a heavenly spiced rind massage from the nitrate-rich angels fortnightly."

i am a saint.

now then, steevie. brace yourself: it is said amongst the peanut elders: rinds of a kind crave similar salt. being a dunce, i can only assume your pastimes include horticulture and loin-soiling. if you should perchance to notice a pungent urine-musk cloud billowing forth from the crotch of your beloved - or a bonsai tree in her locker - then you need only follow these simple steps:

purchase a pair of filthy dungarees

fasten them about you, one greasy tentacle at a time

ask your lover-to-be if she has been recently flagellated by any members of phylum heterokontophyta, for her sheen is rosy and pure

when she swoons, offer her a moldy asparagus and have her meet you behind the laundromat in her aforementioned "nighte"

when she arrives, sing "come sail away" by styx, shirtless

kissing the end of her nighte will be difficult, but you will find oil-encrusted, serpentine lips there if you look closely. these lips bear the secrets of the multiverse and untold pleasures of the rind.

i'm ready for my enspicening,
the peanut guy!