As I sat in the doctors office this week listening to that Christmas song by Wham!, reading the latest issue of TIME Magazine — and by latest, I mean May–I spotted a column by Joel Stein, a writer that I hold in high regard. In “The Awesome Column,” Stein illustrated a heart-melting (hehe) story of a woman he’d met in an airport known as Adventure Girl®. The column describes how, in this world of social networking and corporate big wigs, one needs to identify their brand, just as Adventure Girl® had done.

Now, as I read the witty words of Stein, he took me on a journey…a marketing journey. A story of how a writer found himself, and his money maker. In the end, the self-appointed Sultan of Snark™ got me thinking…

If a well established and extremely talented professional columnist can establish himself as a trademarked entity, why can’t I– a semi-successful, narrow-minded high-schooler with access to publishing power on this site — do the same? Identical situations if you ask me.

So I began to ponder…

[And then, I realized, pondering can take minutes, and maybe even hours! Stein gets paid to do this every day! how unfair is that?

So I then realized that, by using this unfair advantage against me, and attacking me personally through this bit, that some sort of lawsuit must be possible. But, after much deliberation (30 seconds), I realized that if I sue his butt for everything he's worth, my chances of being his loyal sidekick are getting slimmer, like Eric Mangini after LAP-BAND®.

So I began to ponder once more...]

It finally came to me in my first block class… The Ambassador of Agony©.

There is no better word to be a my brand! Throughout the course of my day, my body is filled with a flood of torment over the state of the economy, the closing of schools, the sale of mince pies, the use of gel pens, and Elisabeth Hasselbeck (and the spelling of her name, for that matter).

Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, I suffer through the acute pain caused by the 1996 television series Homeboys in Outerspace. I have never seen anybody flying a rocket ship around Mars, especially two brothers and their computer/pilot “Loquatia.” How do you even say that?

Erik Spoelstra clearly in agony.

LeBron James, The King as he is often called, should be referred to as the King of making the Ambassador of Agony© agonized. Erik Spoelstra, head coach of the Miami Heat, is not the problem, and the signs of a conspiracy leading to the imminent firing of the baby-faced head coach makes me sick.

But, as I have recently learned, it’s not just my own agony that I ambassadize, it’s other people’s as well.

Recently, in a column I’d written about Conan O’Brien, a comment was posted saying:

“…Thus begins the agonizing, land-slide descent of the Liverpool Lifeguard into irreverent delusion, yet again.”

At first, I was disappointed that I’ve already made readers drink the Hate-orade so early in my career, but now I’ve realized, it’s my calling! I’m shakin’ my money maker!

Agony is a tool that most of us ignore. This powerful emotion and pain can be used for good. Turn it into ambition! Oh, maybe Ambassador of Ambition is a little bit more pleasant. Oh well, I’ve already got Agony copyrighted.

Plus, I’m not losing that $100 deposit on my Agony© swimwear line.

Why hello my dearest readers. Today I bringeth you the striking story of a handsome young chap and his beautiful lady. These may be the two most irrelevant blokes to us here in the States, but for some reason unbeknown to me, the news networks have covered this story like a blanket…a very big blanket…the problem is, it feels like July in Arizona and it’s really hot and nobody really needs a blanket…

Now, contrary to my (fabulous) accent opening this piece, and that which was (slightly) evident in my last piece, “Welcome Back…Kinda” (read it), I am not British. I’m American; these colors don’t run. Now, although millions of Americans are fascinated with “the royals” (exaggeration), I am not (understatement).

For those of you who aren’t aware, Prince William and Miss Kate Middleton announced their engagment on Monday, November 16. Prince Willy popped the question while the two were vacationing in Africa last month, British officials say.

While the idea of royalty has always seemed to fascinate us voters, our connection to the homeland is minimal. Our connection to the royals: meaningless.

Now I don’t wish to rain on anybody’s parade, because there is some human interest in this story, but how national moning shows can make this their top story every day is beyond me. The fact that, at times, it was even called BREAKING NEWS boggles my mind. I’m officially boggled.

THIS JUST IN: a well to do foregin man is getting married to an average foregin girl.

Yes, I will aknowledge that Prince William is not your typical Brit, but still, he isn’t the Prince of Nashville.

But here’s the kicker: it happened a month ago. Prince William didn’t hang a sign on top of Big Ben on Sunday! He didn’t put it in some good ole chocolate cake this weekend! There was no Veterans Day surprise or a Thanksgiving “I’m thankful for you baby. Marry me.” Nope.

But, this sin’t just sunshine and roses; the Prince is a rebel you know.

The abcnews.com sub-headline reads:

“William Didn’t Ask Middleton’s Father for Permission Before Popping Question.“

Say it isn’t so! How dare he? What was he thinking?

Yeah, I guess Willy did miss a pretty curtious custom, but in this day and age, is that what really matters most here?

Well what does matter most, you must be asking. I think I’ve figured it out.

The charm that the royal family has, the same charm I’ve been mocking and dismissing this entire column must be real, since I’ve spent over 400 words on it so far. Although there is no reason for us here in the states to care about this story, we do. There’s something. They’ve got the X-factor.

For some odd reason, these people fascinate us, and maybe, that’s one thing–the only thing–the royals have on us regulars. They’ve got ‘it.’

Prince William and his princess-to-be. Wait, will she be a princess? I wish these titles made as much sense as they did in Cinderella...

It’s been nearly 10 months since Conan O’Brien hosted his final Tonight Show on NBC before leaving the network in January. Between then and November 8th, the day his newest project, Conan, aired on TBS, what did he come up with? Mediocrity.

Now, I’m not television critic, just a lost columnist trying to find his way on the path of semi-humorous high school writing–using the terms columnist, semi-humorous, and writing very loosely. But, watching the series premiere of Conan was a bloody disappointment. [Editor's note: If Corey were a television critic, he would, of course, be British.]

Some in the industry have called the show a more laid back edition of the typical late night talk show, and a revival of classic Conan. They must have been dreaming, ‘cuz Cap’n Coco put me to sleep.

The monologue was a few NBC jokes, some of which were punchy, to be fair, but most were either already assumed, not funny, or a perfect combination of the two. With a scruffy beard comparable to (insert favorite homeless guy here) and his trademark hair looking rather snooki-ish, the show lacked development, direction, and pure comedy, something that could have been worked on for months.

Conan’s typical style of quirky humor was evident, but in smaller, goofier doses, lacking the strong punchlines that set up a goof-ball gag. Though his guests included A- to B+ list celebs, including the hilarious Seth Rogan, their conversations were short and not much was accomplished. As far as additional segments were concerned, the urge to laugh was mysteriously missing from my lower belly. Comic Ricky Gervais made a small cameo that was fairly humorous, but not enough to change my mind. Sorry.

The set: eh.

The band: ight.

The crew: can’t complain.

The audience: who cares?

Sidekick Andy Richter: hey…the dude was funny.

Now I realize that Richter had an all-star comedian to set him up, but his quick, punchy, gut-busting comments were impressive. They made me…dare I say it…chuckle.

In anticipation of the groundbreaking basic cable event, Conan reeled in over 4 million viewers for his series premiere. Now, I would usually feel bad about ripping on the red head like this, but I realize, I’m not alone.

On Tuesday (Episode 2), ratings dropped by nearly one-third, bringing in only 2.8 million viewers.

“Conan O’Brien just won’t drop the NBC thing”, said the headline on the Los Angeles Times showtracker blog. And it’s true. After a year of turmoil, we expect more than just NBC bashers. Yeah, a few are assumed, even accepted, but where’s the funny?

Listen Coco, I’m willing to give you another chance. But please, blow me away. Knock me off my feet!

If not, America is left asking, what time is Lopez on? ¡Ay!

Lemme ax y’all a question. Since when is Stephen A. Smith a political strategist?

On Tuesday, November 1, the state of this nation drastically changed over night. With the Republican Party gaining 61 seats (and counting) in the House of Representatives—as well as the House majority—it is obvious that things are going to change.

For those that aren’t politically savvy, there are two major political parties (thanks). President Barack Obama is a Democrat (a-duh), and obviously supports democratic views and policies. With both houses of Congress holding a democratic majority, Obama was able to pass his controversial bills, including healthcare reform.

Now that Republicans have control of the House, there is a strong chance that these bills will no longer pass, and that more conservative ideals may begin to make their way into the bills on Capitol Hill.

Where does this leave the big O? Well, his legislation is up in the air; his patience will be tried; his support, tested; his future, uncertain.

Although it is not easy to defend Obama in these tough times, it’s incredibly sad to think that he is treating his colleagues—Senators—like enemies. But he’s not alone. With Democrats and Republicans are as hostile as ever, the heat of politics isn’t cooling down.

“Sadly, we have a president who uses the word ‘enemy’ for fellow Americans, fellow citizens,” Boehner said at an Ohio rally on Monday, according to realclearpolitics.com. “He used it for people who disagree with his agenda of bigger government.”

It sickens some to hear that bipartisan relationships are nonexistent, but Obama isn’t the lone wolf.

“The Republican leader of the Senate said that his main goal for the next two years, this is his top priority, is to beat me in the next election,” Obama said. “That’s his top priority. I mean, he didn’t say, ‘My top priority is to create jobs for folks in Virginia.’ He didn’t say, ‘My top priority is to make America more competitive.’ He’s already thinking about the next election.”

Because of the magnitude of this year’s midterm elections, and the potential they have to shake up our future as a country, the media has covered these results like a blanket, as they very well should. But Stephen A. Smith? 

Smith began his journalistic career in 1993 as a sportswriter for the Daily News. Over the next decade, Smith established a career as an outspoken and controversial sports personality in The Philadelphia Inquirer, the New York Daily News, and on ESPN.

The host of The Stephen A. Smith Show syndicated on Fox Sports Radio has become a fixture in the sports media, love him or hate him. But politically, Smith ain’t got nothin.

But that didn’t stop Larry King from using Smith as a panelist on his Wednesday night show—the results show. So the day after one of the largest political changes in American history takes place, one of the most popular shows on the most popular news network features an annoying sports host for political commentary.

Usually, this would “grind my gears,” seeing as Smith drives me nuts and he is about as relevant to the show as Bob Barker on Celebrity Deathmatch. Plus, I can’t stand Stephen A. Smith.

But you know what? He wasn’t awful. Yeah, he said some things that were dumb, but he did offer a unique perspective, being an African-American sportswriter.

According to Smith, 88% of African-Americans approve of Obama’s presidency, even when the unemployment rate for blacks is hovering 15%. He said that it’s okay for people to support the president, but they still need to push him to get the job done.

While Smith alludes to the “we like you cuz you’re chill” support group keeping Obama alive, especially in high schools, he still admits that he needs to “do work.”

Next time you flip on Larry King after a mid-term election (which will never happen again, seeing as King will soon retire), give it a chance, you might be pleasantly surprised.

You know, if I were teacher, there’s not a doubt in my mind who I’d dress up as for Halloween: Pee-Wee Herman. He is a very smart man, hosted a very educational program, has a great relationship with children, and does it all while having a reputation for being incredibly professional and proper: all signs of a good teacher.

But I’m not a teacher, so I’m at a bit of a loss.

For girls, Halloween is a chance to dress up in something incredibly skimpy and get away with it; for guys, it’s a chance to wear whatever you wore that day and say you’re Justin Bieber—Lil’ Wayne’s parole officer, depending on the plastic badge supply at Target and the Kanye West t-shirts at Wally World.

But I’m not in the mood to wear a pair of ripped jeans and a pair of Skull Candies and call myself “an aspiring music producer with below average grades and a terribly taste in music, citing Master P as my inspiration.” I want something original, fun, and cheaper than the Pittsburgh Pirates.

I could throw on a basketball jersey and be “an NBA player.” Throw in a weird lisp thing and I’m Bill Walton (whose Wikipedia page mysteriously locks up my computer every time. Karma I guess).

I could pop on a suit with the sleeves cut off and be Al Gore (it’s getting warmer).

Better yet, I’ll put on a hockey mask and be a 17 year old kid impersonating somebody dressed up as Jason. Even better: ditch the mask and be the kid who isn’t impersonating a kid dressed as Jason.

But you see, this is what I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to come up with a last minute costume that makes me look like the typical lazy teenager. But my time is running short.

It’s sad to think that I could write a whole column of all the things I shouldn’t be (e.g. a mystery shopper, undercover cop, watching paint dry, Taco Bell customer, Fat Joe after P90x, Mark Zuckerberg, Oprah’s friend Gayle, etc.)

Basically, Halloween is for the planners, the organizers, the thinkers. It’s for the creative, the artsy, the “out-there.” It’s for the funny, the involved, the passionate.

It’s also for the lazy, the procrastinators, the I could care less-ers.

Is there no happy medium? Wait, a happy Medium. I talk to dead people and double as Mickey Mouse at Disney World.

Nah.

Wait…I’ll be a teacher, dressed up as Pee-Wee! Can you say “Best Costume” winner at the VFW post 318 kida-annual Halloween party? Oh yes you can.