Letter Head

Dear Candice Bergen,

You know how people call people named Candice “Candy”, on occasion? You know how your surname, as your father contracted it, means mountains? I’m just going to say, you’ve got a pretty sweet nickname for your cans right there. Yep. Candy’s Mountains.

Now, normally I’m not so lewd when I correspond with people I hold in high regard (author’s note: i know i’m not actually writing this to her. stop ruining my illusion.), and I’m feeling awful mortified for expressing it. However, the ridiculous, eccentric half of my mind is reeling over how fucking amazing that is. I mean, just look at that. Come on. 

Anyway, Candy, I think you’re the bee’s motherfucking knees. Maybe not just the knees. Maybe I think you are the whole goddamned bee. That is how fantastic you are. I tried to resist the siren song of Murphy Brown, but, I couldn’t. It’s just so god damn brilliant. I could not resist the allure of another work-com, especially one that had no real theme song, using Motown songs instead. That, my friend, is QUALITY. The comedy may be a little dated, but it’s sharp, and it’s still so funny I pee in my mouth a little (but only a little). Now, one could argue that it’s all in the writing, and that I should be vomiting my praise on Diane English, but you can’t really have a tangible Murph without an actress who can handle her, and boy, can you handle her.

I’m just going to take a moment here to show you the reason I think you are the entire bee:

 

Look. Look at your face, there. You’ve got the most marvelous way of expressing things when you’re acting. I’m really crap at facial expressions. You make it obvious for a socially-blind loser like myself to understand exactly how Murph feels, and then, I can relate to it (I am somewhat similar to the character; I am not yet sure if this is a good, bad, or neutral thing). You made me relate to Murphy so much that I don’t think I will ever be a normal, functioning human being again. Well, I won’t be one who doesn’t compare half of the crap that happens in her life to half of the crap that happens in Murphy’s.

Anyway, I just wrote to tell you that you are fantastic. I want to keep this brief, because I don’t want to sound like a crazy Murphy Brown lady, or something.

Regards,
Charlotte van Houten