In my previous “post” (I put post in quotation marks because I was inebriated when I wrote, hence it doesn’t make much sense and, honestly, the topic was pretty piss-poor to begin with) I wrote about my dislike for long division. To sum it up (pun intended), I have some trouble tackling the abstract reasoning that the process innately represents. Also, I find the idea of owning over five dozen apples at any one time to be inconceivable, juvenile and, frankly, obscene. Not surprisingly, my viewpoints have ignited a firestorm of controversy. DJ somehow cracked into the mainframe of my funny-box (re: laptop) and proceeded to rant and rave in favor of mass fruit consumption, then my ex-friend Megan chimed in and exacerbated the whole thing even further. How did she exacerbate the whole thing even further? Well, she called me a douche. Also, (and this is really where the exacerbation happens, because I already knew I was at least marginally douche-a-lious) Meg insulted my natural distaste for the taste of chocolate. Well, you know what? In the end (not that it’s the end, because it’s not), not liking chocolate was the best (debatable)  decision (wasn’t a decision) of my life (if that’s what you want to call what I do with my time).

Pssh, like that would ever work.

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It’s amazing what people will tolerate when it comes to the dumbness of others. Anyone who has ever worked a job that involves public interaction has surely been accosted by questions, comments or criticisms which are so unreasonable or so vapid that the brain can barely compose a response. How many times have you pinched your brow, rolled your eyes or shook your head in disbelief at the ignorance of another? Still, we have to bite our tongues before we shout out, “How stupid can you be?” Well, I wanted to put it to the test. How stupid can a person be and still illicit a gracious response from someone? I turned to my good friend: Joel C. Marquette. A nice, well-spoken man, but also a grade-A goof. Below are a series of e-mails from Joel’s gmail account. All the responses are 100% authentic, but names have been changed to protect the innocent.

The Topic: Can I juggle while I parachute in tandem with my fiancee?

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I recently downloaded season two of 30 Rock and was treated to the hilarious episode titled “Greenzo.” Man, that Alec Baldwin/Tina Fey combination is something else. They legitimately make me laugh out loud. The guest star in this episode, however, makes me want to give myself a spinal tap. Similarly, I downloaded the first two episodes of the current season of Scrubs. Again, the cast is generally pretty brilliant and again, the guest star gives me chills from being so unfunny. These two guest “stars” have one thing in common (besides the ability to make me wretch in front of my TV). They were both main characters on the disturbingly popular Friends.

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Roy and I moved into a new apartment on New Year’s Eve and the previous tenants left an entire month’s worth of coupons, bills and magazines in our mailbox. Among the magazines were two copies of Vibe, two copies of Entrepreneur and four copies OK! Weekly, the lesser and perhaps even more obnoxious version of Us Weekly. As I made my way through these three magazines, I caught myself thoroughly enjoying Entrepreneur, feigning interest in Vibe, and throwing a bigger and bigger fit with each new page of OK! So, I decided to write a letter to the editor pointing out just a few of the most glaring flaws in the publication they so brazenly put their name on. What follows is actually what I emailed susan@okmagazine.com (the editor in chief).

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The lovely Natalie Portman began her acting career in1994 starring in the movie Leon (aka the professional), a quirky flick about a professional assassin who begrudgingly befriends the young and spunky Mathilda (Portman). Hilarity, scenes of graphic violence and strong language ensue. I wish I could say that movie was my first, but alas it was not. Leon is rated-R and I was only seven at the time of its release. The title of my first movie goes to the forgettable Rock-a-doodle a 77-minute romp through the life and times of an Elvis-impersonating rooster whose voice causes the sun to rise. Fair enough. But, I’m an older man now; I can grow inklings of a moustache and carry televisions up and down flights of stairs. I have also learned valuable life-lessons, most notably: BE PREPARED. A simple dictum. A timeless truism. In order to be truly prepared you need to be ready for any situation imaginable. For example: What if I miraculously score a date with my prepubescent crush Queen Amidala/ Natalie Portman? You better believe I’ll have a game plan:

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Well it has been quite a while since our last update. Though our Rocktober shows have been going strong, I thought I would provide a little written snippet to tide everyone over until this Sunday. Be sure to tune in this Sunday though, for our special “Ol’ Tymey Radio Terror-cast” (tentative title).

What I’ll be reviewing this afternoon are my top five children’s names. Yes, one day, I plan on spreading my seed and endowing this planet with another set of geniuses and prodigies. But what will I name these children? Let’s take a look:

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