I don’t read many books. I wish I did. Whenever I’m recommended a book, I find that it is always boring, gay, criminally juvenile or retarded. Let’s take a look at one of each.
An Oral History of Long Division
Despite the fact that no one is reading this aloud to you and is therefore not oral, this book could not have done more to make people hate math. As if they needed another reason to hate it. Its author Eugene Cromholtz tries to zazz-up the boring world of long division (without a calculator?!) with little quips like, “Divide and conquer, that’s your mission/find the remainder, master long division! Cooooolsville!” Too bad that’s like going to a cemetery, digging up the oldest tomb there, decorating the corpse with tensile you bought at the dollar store and calling it festive. Awesome. Now you two can rock-out all the way to Coolsville, daddy-o. Oh yeah. I don’t know how Eugene did this, but An Oral History of Long Division is considered fiction.
The Faggiest Vampire
Vampires are pretty gay looking. The male ones are always either buff, chiseled, and body hair-less versions of James Dean, or are eccentric and fruity. And every single female vampire looks like they are staring in soft core lesbian porn. The Faggiest Vampire is the story of one such vampire, Vladimir VonTrap, and his life (or whatever) as a cape wearing, show tunes listening, blood sucker. He is described as a cross between Adrian Brody and Liberace who, get this, isn’t even gay. He’s not gay! He’s just supper, supper faggy. He likes women, feeds only on women and actually gets laid pretty frequently. The problem is his lisp and how he giggles at everything when walking his very strange looking gait around the village. This causes the members of the village’s football team (go Vandals!) to fag-bash him every night. But because he can’t die, he gets fag-bashed every night, yadda yadda, catharsis, yadda yadda, suicide by stepping into the sunlight. This was written by a 16 year old goth in high school who two years after graduating brought home his first boyfriend named Rayn.
Ninja Pirates Fight Zombies at White Castle (and Then Get Laid)
DUDE! What’s cooler than ninjas? Nothing, right? Well, maybe pirates. Pirates ARRR fucking awesome! Oh man, wait. Wait. What if…you combined ninjas…AND pirates?! Holy sh-, just- DUDE! That’d be soooo cool. Just imagine a group of elite ninja pirates tearing ass. Nothing could stop them…except…maybe a hoard of the walking dead! And the ninja pirates ARRR all like “sensei always told us to attack when the moment was right, so we best find a strong hold to wait in ya land lubbers!” So they go to White Castle to find protection from the damned and live a life of opulence ‘cause who doesn’t love White Castle? Those burgers are soooo good. I made deep-fried bacon-wrapped turkey stuffed with White Castle burgers this year for Thanksgiving. Mmmm. Anyway, yeah. So the’re all at White Castle and it’s like Dawn of the Dead but not since they’re at White Castle. See, White Castle is a metaphor for strength. Oh man am I ever deep. Then the zombies break in, and they fight, and they are swashbuckling and throwing ninja stars and headshots, and stealth neck breaks and cannons and demon magic but they’re still losing until a DIMENSIONAL WORMHOLE opens up and Optimus Prime comes out and saves the day by stepping on all the zombies. Yay! And then everyone get’s laid by the Swedish Bikini Team. Yay!
Mongolian Murmurs
An expose about our shared humanity. The story of a 19th century British nurse, Elizabeth Gladstone, who travels to the Sukhbaatar providence of Mongolia on a missionary trip. There she encounters a local disfigured boy, Bath. He is unable to speak coherently and the people of his village treat him like an animal. In her infinite compassion, Elizabeth decides to take Bath back to England and culture him. The first few months prove disastrous; Bath cries whenever he steps out into the cold, British weather, he has trouble digesting their food (he, shits, EVERYWHERE), he keeps bumping his giant head into corners, and he simply refuses to learn proper table etiquette. In her desperation, Elizabeth takes Bath to the Doctors at Oxford to see what is wrong with Bath. They conclude that he is mentally and physically retarded, and it is from Bath that the word “Mongoloid” is derived. It is decided that young Bath is to be euthanized in the most humane way available in the Victorian Era. They take him into the back ally and shoot him in the head with a pistol. His brain may have already been dead but Bath’s mighty heart still beat on. It takes 7 shots (and 15 minutes to shoot and reload an old gun like that) to finally bring the boy down. In his last moments, he murmurs into Elizabeth’s ear “spoon”, alluding to their table manner lessons. In his death, he teaches us the virtues of having an extra chromosome.
An Oral History of Long Division
Despite the fact that no one is reading this aloud to you and is therefore not oral, this book could not have done more to make people hate math. As if they needed another reason to hate it. Its author Eugene Cromholtz tries to zazz-up the boring world of long division (without a calculator?!) with little quips like, “Divide and conquer, that’s your mission/find the remainder, master long division! Cooooolsville!” Too bad that’s like going to a cemetery, digging up the oldest tomb there, decorating the corpse with tensile you bought at the dollar store and calling it festive. Awesome. Now you two can rock-out all the way to Coolsville, daddy-o. Oh yeah. I don’t know how Eugene did this, but An Oral History of Long Division is considered fiction.
The Faggiest Vampire
Vampires are pretty gay looking. The male ones are always either buff, chiseled, and body hair-less versions of James Dean, or are eccentric and fruity. And every single female vampire looks like they are staring in soft core lesbian porn. The Faggiest Vampire is the story of one such vampire, Vladimir VonTrap, and his life (or whatever) as a cape wearing, show tunes listening, blood sucker. He is described as a cross between Adrian Brody and Liberace who, get this, isn’t even gay. He’s not gay! He’s just supper, supper faggy. He likes women, feeds only on women and actually gets laid pretty frequently. The problem is his lisp and how he giggles at everything when walking his very strange looking gait around the village. This causes the members of the village’s football team (go Vandals!) to fag-bash him every night. But because he can’t die, he gets fag-bashed every night, yadda yadda, catharsis, yadda yadda, suicide by stepping into the sunlight. This was written by a 16 year old goth in high school who two years after graduating brought home his first boyfriend named Rayn.
Ninja Pirates Fight Zombies at White Castle (and Then Get Laid)
DUDE! What’s cooler than ninjas? Nothing, right? Well, maybe pirates. Pirates ARRR fucking awesome! Oh man, wait. Wait. What if…you combined ninjas…AND pirates?! Holy sh-, just- DUDE! That’d be soooo cool. Just imagine a group of elite ninja pirates tearing ass. Nothing could stop them…except…maybe a hoard of the walking dead! And the ninja pirates ARRR all like “sensei always told us to attack when the moment was right, so we best find a strong hold to wait in ya land lubbers!” So they go to White Castle to find protection from the damned and live a life of opulence ‘cause who doesn’t love White Castle? Those burgers are soooo good. I made deep-fried bacon-wrapped turkey stuffed with White Castle burgers this year for Thanksgiving. Mmmm. Anyway, yeah. So the’re all at White Castle and it’s like Dawn of the Dead but not since they’re at White Castle. See, White Castle is a metaphor for strength. Oh man am I ever deep. Then the zombies break in, and they fight, and they are swashbuckling and throwing ninja stars and headshots, and stealth neck breaks and cannons and demon magic but they’re still losing until a DIMENSIONAL WORMHOLE opens up and Optimus Prime comes out and saves the day by stepping on all the zombies. Yay! And then everyone get’s laid by the Swedish Bikini Team. Yay!
Mongolian Murmurs
An expose about our shared humanity. The story of a 19th century British nurse, Elizabeth Gladstone, who travels to the Sukhbaatar providence of Mongolia on a missionary trip. There she encounters a local disfigured boy, Bath. He is unable to speak coherently and the people of his village treat him like an animal. In her infinite compassion, Elizabeth decides to take Bath back to England and culture him. The first few months prove disastrous; Bath cries whenever he steps out into the cold, British weather, he has trouble digesting their food (he, shits, EVERYWHERE), he keeps bumping his giant head into corners, and he simply refuses to learn proper table etiquette. In her desperation, Elizabeth takes Bath to the Doctors at Oxford to see what is wrong with Bath. They conclude that he is mentally and physically retarded, and it is from Bath that the word “Mongoloid” is derived. It is decided that young Bath is to be euthanized in the most humane way available in the Victorian Era. They take him into the back ally and shoot him in the head with a pistol. His brain may have already been dead but Bath’s mighty heart still beat on. It takes 7 shots (and 15 minutes to shoot and reload an old gun like that) to finally bring the boy down. In his last moments, he murmurs into Elizabeth’s ear “spoon”, alluding to their table manner lessons. In his death, he teaches us the virtues of having an extra chromosome.
1 comment:
There really is a book called The Faggiest Vampire.
http://www.amazon.com/Faggiest-Vampire-Carlton-Mellick-III/dp/1933929804/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1240328474&sr=8-1
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