From the desk of Tucker McGrath

Hi there, Eric is away looking for rental properties at Disneyworld today and he asked me to fill in.

First off, Eric wanted me to explain a little bit about who I am to all the readers out there, as there has been some confusion on the subject in the past.

I am Tucker McGrath, Eric Filipkowski's imaginary friend who is NOT a rapist. That's Chad Robuckle. Please don't confuse us. Eric said I should describe myself as a little slow, to establish the paradigm in peoples' minds. Whatever that means.

Anyway, to sum up: I am Tucker McGrath, NOT Chad Robuckle. I don't know if he actually raped anyone or not but rest assured, I have never been accused of sexual assault of any kind in my whole life.

So, now that we've cleared that up, let me tell you my funny story.

I heard of these stories about people on the subways in New York getting beaten up for their iPods, have you heard about this? Apparently, criminals look for the tell-tale white ear buds and then they demand you fork over your iPod.

So I thought it would be funny to turn the tables on these thugs and plug iPod headphones into a crappy 80's-style walkman. I cruised the subways with my walkman under my jacket for a few days, mostly late nights, in bad neighborhoods, when I finally got some takers!

Mr. Criminal and his cronies surrounded me on the empty subway train, I'd say it was about 3 am. I saw them approach me and I could barely conceal my glee as they did their best to look menacing.

"Hand over the iPod, bitch" the leader said.

I sprung up and flung open my jacket, revealing my crappy walkman!

"Aha! The joke's on you, I don't have an iPod!" I said, triumphantly.

Oh man, it was so funny! At least I thought so! LOL!

I didn't even have time to laugh before the first blow was landed. Oh shit, did it hurt!

They continued for what seemed like a lifetime, but was actually only about sixteen minutes or so. All of them got in on the act, kicking and punching, sometimes beating me about the head and face with my own walkman. Good lord!

The doctors tell me I'm lucky to be alive. They had to take out my whole lower intestine and replace it with a plastic one. No more Mexican food for me, I guess. Oh well.

Would I do it again, knowing what I know now? No. But still, you've gotta admit, it was a pretty funny joke and though they got in some good licks, I feel I was victorious because as the old adage goes:

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me!"