“If you take away our right to steal ideas, where are they gonna come from?”
The Simpsons

Man that Jim Byrne is a slave driver. I know I promised him a column but geez, did he have to threaten my mother like that? And my grandfather! He fought in Dubya Dubya 2! He didn’t deserve to have his house burned down. It’ll take him years to replace his collection of Lawrence Welk videotapes and meticulously recorded Yankees box scores.

But I get the message. I need to turn something in by Sunday night. Okay, okay, okay. Think, think, think. Hmmm, looking around the Internet, can’t think of anything. Click, click, click. Hmm, what’s this? A website where nubile female college freshmen cheerleaders wash cars to raise money so they can buy a house on frat row and host all sorts of wild and crazy parties where anything can happen? This bears investigating.

*BOOM* *KRA-KROOM*

Aaaah! Geez! All right, all right. I didn’t know Jim controlled lightning too. Microsoft Front Page is more powerful than I could possibly imagine. Okay, lets see. Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think.

*Deep breath*

Think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think, think.

Um, I know! TV will give my imagination the necessary kick-start to write a column that will attract the attention of Page 2 editors so I can escape the non-paying drudgery of Zubaz Pants-ville. I’m coming for your head, Bill Simmons.

Hmm, “Making Over My Man”? No.
“Rescue Dogs of the Third Reich”? Gee, I wonder which channel that’s on.
Hmm, that white guy from Chappelle’s “Mad Real World” on VH1 with other loser comedians making fun of other tangential famous people?
“Demolition Man” for the eighth time today?
The big gay black guy threatening to stab the poodle-haired alcoholic white guy on the real “The Real World”?
Mini-Me honking like a goose and pissing in the corner while sitting on his lark scooter as Chyna tucks her manhood inside her underwear?
No thanks, I like my soul where it is now.

Maybe TV isn’t the answer to my conundrum. Maybe a little music is the answer.

I can’t live without you/
Can’t breathe without you/
I’m dreamin' bout you/
Honestly, tell me that it’s over

Uhhh, perhaps not.

There has to be something I can write about. Well, I hate trying to force each new quarter into my state quarters map. And Wisconsin – are you kidding me? You put a cow and a wedge of cheese on your quarter? Why not just put a picture of a fat woman in overalls shopping at Wal-Mart? Or Brett Favre’s stubble and empty pill bottles?

Uh, oh. I hear web browsers closing all over the country. This is a loser. What else?

My current relationship? Nah, only because we’re sorta kinda just starting to see each other and even if there is a .01% of seeing her naked, I won’t put that in jeopardy by potentially embarrassing her online. Not for God, not for country and certainly not for you guys.

My previous relationship? No, because she volunteers at the Smithsonian’s bug exhibit. Doing what? Feeding spiders only half the size of the one that tried to eat Frodo. I’m sure she could marshal them into an unholy army of the night and command them to gnaw on my naughty parts.

Cotton balls?

The Fleshlight?

Corey Shoock?

The FCC making it so I have to pay money to listen to Opie and Anthony?

J.P. Losman as the ghost of Rob Johnson?

Cell phone tones that ring longer than it takes to answer the phone?

Every third hipster and metrosexual in the greater Washington, D.C. metro area owning an iPod?

The inability of roommates to clean the house unless asked by the bigger cockroaches that live under the sink?

Reasons to hate Boston? Besides four championships in four years and Sens. Ted “What Bridge?” Kennedy and John “Please Kofi, May I Have Another” Kerry?

How can I possibly fill enough space so I don’t lose a coveted spot on the Zubaz Pants masthead like whats-his-name and whos-its and that guy who wore that shirt?

What possibly can I write about? I don’t know. I hope Jim doesn’t fire me. Or kill my mom.

Jerk.

Knicks suck.

Questions, comments, ideas? E-mail me at mlucinski@yahoo.com

Michael Lucinski works for a non-profit organization in Washington, D.C. He received a B.A. in Political Science from the University at Buffalo, where he was also an editor and columnist for the student newspaper, The Spectrum. He also writes reviews for Silver Bullet Comic Books. He spins his web any size.