Dear Jimbo:

I have this problem with my wife. All she does is whine and complain about everything. She tells me that everything I do is stupid and that I’m stupid. She even calls me names. When I ask her how she would like things done, she just continues to say that she hates my way of doing things and that I’m stupid. She is spending us into bankruptcy, and when I tell her we can’t afford things, she tells me “go get a raise from your rich boss.”

Can you help me?

/s/Frantic in Freehold

Dear Frantic:

Oh, and next time around, don’t marry a democrat.

Dear Jimbo:

Dude, I live in New Jersey too!!! I read your blog every day, and I think it is way cool. I read it aloud to my pet snakes, and they always laugh and tell me how much they love your blog too. I was wondering if we could get together at your place (I’ll bring the snakes), and we could read your blog out loud together and then maybe play some guitars. I don’t know how to play guitar, but, if you have an extra one, I could pretend I’m playing along with you. The snakes would love that. What do you say, buddy?

Your pal,
/s/Randall (Call me “Randy”) Rudolf

Dear Mr. Rudolf:

I think you should move to Florida and buy yourself an alligator.

Dear Jimbo:

I figure you can help me with this problem. You see, I have an unusual hobby. I like to walk into bars and, as soon as I walk through the door I say really loud, “You’re all assholes, and I can kick the shit out of every sonofabitch in this place!”

My problem is that I’ve tried this a couple times in Jersey and got my ass kicked. The same thing happened when I crossed the river and tried out my hobby in Harlem.

I figured I’d try heading south. So, I drove to Georgia, making a couple hobby stops in Tennessee along the way. In Tennessee, I got a major beating and damned near got myself stabbed. Georgia was worse. I ended up in the hospital.

Do you have any suggestions?

/s/Rocky Randucci

Dear Rocky:

One word. … Berkeley.