Less To Me Than Meets The Eye

For some strange, unfathomable reason people naturally assume I know stuff despite my assurances to the contrary. My one attempt at reading a book caused me such a headache that I still visibly shudder near a library, my knowledge of history is severely distorted due to my inability to separate fact from fiction and I have the attention span of a mollusk with Alzheimer's. And yet the questions keep on coming. My shortcomings are highlighted on an almost daily basis by Amy the day girl who is a trivia nut.

'Ready for today's questions?'
'Amy, I've keep telling you, I'm an idiot. I'm dumb.'
'You are not,' she replies earnestly ' OK, first question....'
'I don't remember agreeing to this.'
'....with what political party do we associate Karl Marx? I'll take any one of three responses.'
'The...um...Freemasons?'
'Stop kidding around!' yells Amy.
'I'm not.'
'Try again.'
'The Blefuscuans? The Denver Broncos? The Smurfs?'
'Smurfs aren't political!'
'They kind of are.'
'Moving right along,' Amy continues after a long sigh, 'when was the Spanish Civil War?'
'1755.'

Amy glares at me.

'1756? 1757? 1066?'
'Who was the famous martial artist father of Brandon Lee?'
'Steven Seagal.'
'Which Shakespearean tragedy was set in Verona?'
'Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise.'
'WHAT IS THE PRIME INGREDIENT OF PEANUT BUTTER?'
'Swordfish?'

Amy lobs a lime at my head in frustration.

May I use a lifeline Eddy?
Fatman