Here’s a quick news report from the desk of SmartassRadio news headquarters. The New York Times has recently reported that SUNY New Paltz (the college which I have graduated from and DJ lives near) has seen a tremendous surge in enrollment in recent years.  The article wrongly proports that this increase  is due to the so-called “shit bucket economy.” Well if that doesn’t scream MARLARKY at you, frankly, I don’t know what will.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: New Paltz is getting more students for one reason and one reason only, and you’re looking at it (I’m referring to our website).

The Key to Increased College Enrollment

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I like to dance, so sue me!!!!!!

Hahaha, I’m sorry, that first line just cracked me up. But seriously folks, I do; I do love to dance. Dancing is my natural passion. In fact, if I were to have my own Vitamin Water it would have only two ingredients: passion fruit and dancing…and water. It wouldn’t taste very good, but it would sum up my feelings on dancing very well. When I hear music, my body naturally wants to move. I wiggle and jiggle, I bop and be. Do I follow many dancing conventions? No, of course not. Do I flail, air-hump and turn my body into a human gyroscope? Yes. Yes, I do. I know I busted a move (or two, LOL) this weekend, but I’m beginning to think my techniques are being subtly mocked. Are those fun-loving party people laughing with me? Or are those ugly, prudish, boneheads laughing at me? Let’s figure it out:

Working at 12% of my dancing potential.

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Roy and I get a few magazines delivered to our house that neither of us has a subscription for: Us Weekly, OK! Weekly, Vibe, Entrepreneur and the occasional J&R Cigar catalog. We’ve been living in our current place for almost two months and I had thought I’d seen it all. I was so fucking wrong. Last week I opened the mailbox to discover the following visual travesty:

I don’t know if it’s more shocking that we will now receive this magazine for god knows how
long or that someone who once lived in our relatively shitty apartment had a job AND kids.

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I’ve been hanging out with Regis Philbin a lot recently and he has been chatting my ear off incessantly over his favorite college football team the “Notre Dame Fighting Irish.” I happen to be a pretty Irish fellow (50%), and if you need more proof than just genetics consider this: last St. Patrick’s Day I watched a parade in Cork, Ireland, got drunk off Guinness, saw old men with brogues play jigs with fiddles and woke the next morning to kiss the Blarney Stone. I’m sure I ate a potato and got in a enormous brawl somewhere in the middle of that too, so rest assured that I am familiar with Irish stereotypes. But you know who isn’t familiar with mass generalizations? Theodore W. Drake, designer of Notre Dame’s Fighting Irish Leprechaun Mascot.

Who is this schmuck?

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My last installment of “What Not To Listen To: Static X” was featured on the old site and was one of the few things that didn’t make it over to the new one when we switched last August. So, I’ll be posting that as soon as I find the original document.

What Not To Listen To is my opportunity to pick a horrible, obviously hated band and just tear them to shreds for both musical and non-musical reasons. Wayne Static and Static X had it coming from day one and so has Papa Roach. I understand the easiness of tearing down each of these bands, but I’m gonna do it anyway.

This is not photoshopped.

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Hello everyone, I hope you are having a terrific week so far, I know mine has been pretty mediocre. Today I wanted to address a topic which, while not really in my field of interest, I am oftentimes asked about. That topic is the sensitive issue of foreplay. For those who do not know, foreplay is a romantic activity. An activity popularized by Mr. James Bond. I know I’m typing to a diverse crowd. There are some people who are very open with their sexuality. Then there are other, less whorish, less sinful, people who are preserving the sanctity of their loins for holy matrimony. Today I won’t be addressing either one because I’ve invented something new; it’s called fore-foreplay.

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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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