Once again, I’m feeling a bit generous this month. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything of monetary value to offer in these tough economic times. For that, you’ll have to look to the federal government. Lord knows our governor won’t give you sh–t.

Instead, I’m doling out something that thankfully doesn’t cost me a dime, yet it could prove invaluable for its recipients. That’s right; this month, I’m dishing out advice. So open wide and put on a bib, because this spoon-feeding episode could get a bit messy.

I’ll start with some advice for the subject of our cover, recently disbarred injury attorney E. Eric Guirard. A number of folks have asked me what I think he’ll do now that he can no longer practice law. I have several suggestions for him.

For starters, he could become a basketball coach. Not only does he love the game (as an LSU student, he was one of Dale Brown’s front-row lunatics), but he also apparently knows a thing or two about coaching, as illustrated by the email he sent us in April 2006 calling for John Brady to be fired as LSU’s head coach “because of his personal character.”

I think Guirard would make a great head coach. He’s already shown he knows how to delegate … a lot. Instead of getting bogged down with details like X’s and O’s and calling time-outs, he could let his assistant coaches, trainers, and towel boys take care of those menial chores. Meanwhile, he could just sit back, be the face of the team, and collect a healthy paycheck. And best of all, unlike the law profession, he can’t be barred from coaching basketball for running a team in that manner.

If the coaching gig doesn’t pan out, he could become a rapper. He proved he’s got mad skills when he recorded “Tigers to the Top” back in 1981 when the LSU hoops team made a foray into the Final Four. You can sample this rhythmic masterpiece on YouTube.com. Just search for “LSU Tigers Rap,” and be sure to have some cotton swabs handy to soak up the blood from your ears.

Guirard has also shown he knows how to rock a microphone in a different way. Back in the day, he performed stand-up comedy, an endeavor I know quite well. He could try his hand again at going on the road and telling lawyer jokes like, “Do you know what gross injustice is? It’s when 144 lawyers are in a plane crash and they all survive.”

Of course, if the spoken word isn’t Guirard’s thing, he could always resume his writing career. Perhaps he could start with a follow-up to the magnum opus he penned in 1990. For those of you who are not members of the Baton Rouge literati, it’s an illustrated tome entitled 101 Uses for Fat People. I’ll even offer a catchy title for the book: Another 101 Uses for Fat People.

The next person who seems to be in need of free, friendly advice is Roger Villere, the head of the state GOP. It seems the chairman of the Louisiana Republican Party, like many in the national party, is not well versed in the art of political chess. Recently, he almost got mated (in chess terms – not biological terms) while trying to capture a measly pawn from the Democratic side of the board.

The bait was laid out by House Speaker Pro Tem Karen Peterson, a Democrat from New Orleans who criticized Governor Jindal’s opposition to legislation that would have given the public access to most of the governor’s records. She, along with many of her colleagues, claimed that while Jindal had pushed for more transparency in the legislative branch, he’s fought tooth and nail to keep the dark curtains drawn on the fourth floor of the capitol.

Peterson set the trap when she told the governor’s executive counsel she wanted someone to examine her records. On April 29, she insisted, “You can have everything. Request it. Please.”

The next day, Villere sent Peterson a public records request. He wanted everything: Peterson’s schedule, her emails, and her staff’s emails. According to House Clerk Butch Speer, Villere’s impromptu little fishing expedition would cost nearly $200,000 and take up almost 3,800 man-hours … in the middle of a legislative session that’s seen multiple protests on the capitol steps because of numerous proposed funding cuts.

In political terms, Representative Peterson asked for someone from Jindal’s camp to pull her finger, and Roger Villere couldn’t wait to accommodate her. The resulting stink was so noxious and lingered for so long, one legislator from Villere’s own party, Joe Harrison, insisted the chairman apologize, while Republican State Representative Ernest Wooten asked him to resign. Villere’s knee-jerk reaction to Peterson’s taunt was seen as both a juvenile stunt and a personal attack on the speaker pro tem.

I’m sure Villere thought he was being politically deft when he called Peterson’s bluff. In actuality, however, he ended up looking as bright as ancient sailors who crashed into the rocks after hearing the Sirens’ song. He just couldn’t resist the temptation.

Lately, it seems Villere’s political instincts aren’t that great. That’s why I suggest he follow the same advice that proved beneficial for Seinfeld’s George Costanza: Whatever his gut tells him to do, he should do the exact opposite.

My last bit of counsel is directed at people who want us to do an article on them or their business. Let me share a short story.

I recently received an email from an advertising agency in Chicago about Pacifico beer’s new 7-oz bottles. They also sent us all sorts of swag and, most importantly, a couple bottles of cerveza. The beer was good, and the bottles reminded me of my late grandfather, who only drank 7-oz ponies.

The moral of the story is, if you really want to get mentioned in Red Shtick, send beer. Just don’t tell Murphy Painter.