An End to the Thrill – thank god there’s an end

2 of 5 Retarded-As-Fuck Stars – An End to the Thrill by Varun Kumar

This ‘book’ of short stories isn’t really a book. It’s only 52 pages, nine of which are filler bullshit. Dedications and such. Who the fuck cares? Why does it take nine fucking pages to get to the first goddamn story? It’s retarded. Such a waste of space. Hell, that wasted space is longer than most of the stories in this stupid collection.

Most of the stories are set in some kind of alternate reality or future. They’re science-fiction stories, which I usually like. But I didn’t like most of these stories. Mostly because they didn’t make any fucking sense. Or they required me to actually think. I don’t read stories to think, goddamnit. Just tell me what happened, for fuck’s sake. Is that too much to ask? Why do I have to guess and make my own goddamn conclusion? Isn’t that your responsibility as the writer? I guess not.

The first story in this collection is about a guy trying to make it rich with time travel. But either the character is retarded, or the author is. Probably both. Because the guy tells his wife he wants to see how his investments will do over twenty years, and tells her he’ll be back in five minutes. Apparently his plan was to go into the future twenty years, and check on his investments. Then return and change his investments accordingly.

Well, this doesn’t make any fucking sense. First of all, he placed the money in a trust, supposedly. That’s not usually an investment. Then, we find out he didn’t actually put the money in a trust. He hid it somewhere. Or something.

So, he shows up again, back from the future, and asks his wife, “So, what’s our money worth now?” Which also doesn’t make any fucking sense. Because she had no fucking access to the money. And wasn’t it his idea to go into the future to see what his investments would be worth? What the bloody fuck is going on? Why would he ask her? I just don’t get it.

The only story I actually liked also made no fucking sense whatsoever. A guy has an evil plan to get rich by buying lottery tickets every day. So yeah, that’s like the worst plan ever. So his wife leaves him for a guy who’s already rich. Cool. But the lottery guy wants revenge. So he keeps playing the lottery until he actually hits it big. So he invests in a huge scam where he starts a rumor that the world is going to end in ten years. And he puts up a billboard saying he’s got the only safe spot to watch the end of the world from. You know, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe style.

The catch is, you have to put up all your money in order to visit this so-called restaurant. And sure enough, only one couple on Earth is stupid enough to fall for this scam. The lottery guy and her rich lover. Seriously? That’s convenient. And also completely retarded. But still a slightly interesting story.

I really wouldn’t recommend this book to anyone. It’s pretty much a waste of time. Unless you happen to like being confused. But even if being confused is your thing, there are plenty of other books more worthy of your time. Actual BOOKS, not just short collections, like this one. All in all, I was glad there was an end to this ‘thrill’. Heh.

Carry the Knight – isn’t worth carrying

2 of 5 Fucked-In-The-Head Stars – Carry the Knight by Miguel Lopez de Leon.

This is a very important review. It will change your life forever, and inspire countless millions to rise up and take control of their lives. It will be the cornerstone of a new civilization. Monuments will be built because of this review. People will bow down, and praise me as some sort of oracle. For I am Glenn. And I fucking hate this goddamn book.

Of course, all of that is a lie. This isn’t an important review, just as this isn’t an important book. In fact, it’s a completely useless book. It doesn’t accomplish anything, except being full of itself.

The protagonist is a struggling writer. A fairy appears to help him write his all-important book. Because this book is special. It must be written. It will inspire people, and help the world in so many ways… Or so this so-called fairy thinks.

It doesn’t make any fucking sense why this fairy would appear to this stupid fucking writer. It’s said that no fairy, or magical creature has EVER appeared before. They hide from us. But they chose this fucktard of a writer to appear to. Why the bloody fuck didn’t they show up and tell Hitler to stop with all the fucking murder? Why now? Why this fucking loser? There’s absolutely no explanation, except for helping him finish the ‘important’ book that he’s writing.

Which is not a reason at all, considering the book the fairy is referring to is this same fucking book. Carry the Knight. Which isn’t inspirational at all. In fact it’s downright insulting to my intelligence. And that’s hard to do, considering how fucking retarded I am.

The only reason I gave this book two stars instead of one, is because there was at least some value to it. The fairy-world building was actually quite interesting. Some evil fairies come out to play, and attack the hapless writer. So his fairy guardian protects him, and builds a bubble around his apartment. And then the boss-fairy comes into the picture and negotiates a treaty with the evil fairies. And all is well.

So there’s like one percent of this book that’s worth reading. The rest of it is utter dogshit. What really kills me is the fact that this is an actual published book, and not just some self-published work. I can see someone self-publishing garbage like this, but for an actual publisher to pick up this junk just pisses me right the fuck off. It’s an insult to real writers, goddamnit.

And if this review didn’t really change your life, then you know exactly how I felt after reading this fucking book. I felt cheated. And raped. ‘Important book’ my ass. After tearing up this book and eating it piece by piece, I’m going to build a monument to it in my toilet. I’ll call it ‘Ode to de Leon’.

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Tyranny Fighters – is too gay for me

2 of 5 Gay-As-Fuck Stars – Tyranny Fighters by Garry Reed.

This book is fucking retarded. Because it’s just a collection of articles that you could just read for free on the internet, if you really wanted to. I don’t know why the fuck anyone would want to read these articles, though. I only read this book because the author asked me for a ‘brutally honest review’. Probably because he secretly knew that it sucked donkey balls. I guess his family and friends are too chicken-shit to tell him.

I know, I know… I totally feel like the pot calling the kettle black, because my book, Glenn Hates Books Vol. 1 is exactally the same fucking thing. Just a collection of articles that anyone could just read for free on my fucking blog whenever the fuck they want. But hey, at least my book is slightly amusing.

This guy’s book has very little redeeming value. They may be well written articles, but so fucking what. The articles are all pretty much the same shit over and over. They’re about this wack-job free-speech activist, Julian Heicklen. He’s some 80-year-old Tyler Durden wanna-be. Because he obsessively hands out pamphlets outside various courthouses, telling would-be jurors that they shouldn’t fucking listen to that cocksucking judge. And if the plane’s going down in flames, it’s okay to scream your fucking head off.

So it’s the true story of this stupid-ass hippy guy trying to get himself thrown in jail. Because that’s what he does. The cops come by and ask him some simple questions: “What’s your name? Do you have a permit? Do you like anal?”

To which Heicklen answers: “Fuck You. That’s my name. Of course I have a permit. It’s called the United States Fucking Constitution, motherfucker. Free-speech, dickwad. And of course I love anal. Why do you think I want to go to jail so bad?”

So he’s just a big fucking attention whore. If a cop asks you your name, you give them your real fucking name. Unless you want to go to jail and get ass raped. The only reason not to give them your name is to cause a scene, and to get ass raped.

I’m pretty sure that Heicklen was very upset when all the cases against his so-called ‘criminal’ activity got thrown out of court, and he was thrown out on his hippy old ass. Because now where’s the poor guy gonna get good anal rape? Street bums just can’t rape like those hot black guys in prison, man.

Really, the worst part of this book is the fact that it’s so repetitive. If you’ve read one of the articles, you’ve pretty much read the whole book. I’ll even spoil it for you, so you don’t have to read it at all. The hippy Heicklen flees the U.S. once Obama gets elected. He high-tails it to Israel because he’s fucking scared of that bill that allows Obama to just jail anyone he wants for no fucking reason. Indefinitely.

So, in the end, Heicklen was really scared of prison. I guess one man can only endure so much anal rape. I mean, it’s fun for a little rape vacation. A week in jail here and there. But lifetime rape… That’s something even Heicklen’s scared of. Because he’s totally not lifetime gay. He’s just short-term prison gay.

****

GLEE RUINED MY LIFE! Because I thought I was gay, but then I watched that show. Get my book. It’s fucking hilarious.

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Mr. Brooks & His Women – & his whores

2 of 5 Trillionaire-Paying-For-Sex Stars – Mr. Brooks & His Women by Nessa Dearmond.

This ‘book’ is not a book at all. It’s a very short story. Only six pages, for fuck’s sake. It’s kind of sad, really, because the premise of this book is kind of interesting. Too bad it was written so poorly.

The story is about Mr. Brooks and his whores. Mr Brooks is a fucking trillionaire playboy. He makes Tony Stark look poor. And he fucks celebrities for the fun of it. By offering them shit-tons of cash. Because sure, not everyone has a price. But when you offer them one hundred million dollars for a night of fucking, all the sudden they do have a price.

For such a short story, there’s quite a bit of backstory about Mr. Brooks. Apparently, he made his trillions by creating a cure for baldness. Not those bullshit cures, I mean a real cure. Oh, and he also made a cure for small dicks. Like you take this pill, and you get to have a ten-inch cock. For reals. So of course he made trillions of dollars.

Oh yeah, and he also has the cure for every sickness known to man. So, he’s like immortal, or something. I don’t fucking know. Mr. Brooks is just the ultimate fantasy man. He’s the guy that every man wishes he could be. Have all the money in the world, all the women in the world, and a huge fucking cock.

Okay, great, but why is this story so bad then? Well, because it’s six fucking pages! And apparently the author is addicted to semicolons; because he (I have to assume a guy wrote this shit) used so many semicolons in this fucking story; that I could barely read it; I mean, isn’t this annoying as fuck; it’s just not right; and it drove me fucking crazy; I mean, is it really that hard to just use a period?

And there were extra words that clearly didn’t belong. I mean words where the made the sentence make no fucking sense. See what that I mean? So goddamn retarded. And this ‘book’ is actually published. People are buying this shit, and apparently it never got edited, because it fucking needs it bad.

All that being said, I think this story would make a great novel. It really is the perfect fantasy. Well, for men, anyway. And I guess women wouldn’t mind reading about getting paid millions of dollars for one night of banging. Because that’s their fantasy, right? Just fucking a rich dude. People say men are simple. But sometimes, I think women are even more simple. Just give ’em plenty of cash, and they’re happy.

EAT A BAG OF DICKS! They’re like potato chips. You can’t eat just one. Get my book! It’s fucking hilarious. http://amzn.to/1wKcVK6

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It’s Just Us, Daddy – no, it’s not

2 of 5 Kill-Me-Now Stars – It’s Just Us, Daddy by Pete Deakon, illustrations by Kaelyn Williams.

This book should have been called ‘Gettin’ High With Daddy’, or maybe ‘How to Kill Your Daddy With an Imaginary Tiger’. Seriously, those would be much more accurate titles. Because, it’s not just us, Daddy. It’s us and a bunch of fluffy monsters that totally won’t kill us.

Usually a children’s book has some kind of point, or message. A lesson, maybe. You know, what to do when you’re sad. Or, how to kill monsters, that sort of thing. But no. Not this fucking book. You’re not going to learn anything reading this thing. Unless of course you want to learn how to kill your dad with an imaginary tiger.

This book is a story about a father taking his little girl to the park. Trying their best to avoid child molesters. Wait, no that’s not in there. That would have given the story at least some kind of message. We wouldn’t want that.

No, they just go to the fucking park and start hallucinating. As you do. Oh look, there’s a dinosaur over there, playing with a beach ball. Nothing about oh, maybe you should run for your fucking life, kid. Because there’s a fucking dinosaur at the fucking park. No, that would be useful information. We don’t need that shit.

And I’m pretty sure that this little girl wants to get her poor ol’ dad killed. Because she hallucinated a tiger and tells her father to go ahead and pet it. “If it hisses, it wants you to hold him,” she says. So yea, go ahead daddy, hold the harmless tiger. It won’t eat you, I swear!

And how about that perfect sentence she uses? I know she’s just a stupid little girl, but I assume that the guy that wrote this shit isn’t a retarded little girl. So, “If it hisses…” Okay, it’s an ‘it’. Then “It wants you to hold him…” Now it’s a ‘him’? Make up your fucking mind, man. Be consistent for fuck’s sake. It’s either an ‘it’ or a ‘him’ not both. Jesus tapdancing Christ. Learn some fucking English before you write a goddamn children’s book, man.

And then some other little girl enters the park to be eaten by tigers. And I’m like, okay, we’re gonna get some substance here. Like the dad is gonna get his little girl to go befriend the other girl, so they can drag the poor thing back to their lair. Oh goodie. Finally, some action!

But no. It’s just “Hey, I used to have those same sandals you’re wearing. Like a decade ago. I mean, come on. Those are so 2004.” But she didn’t really say that. Because that would have been cool. I mean, maybe some actual conflict would happen. But we can’t have that, now can we?

I didn’t like this stupid fucking book. I definitely wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, child or otherwise. It’s just not that intriguing, man. Even a children’s book needs to be somewhat interesting, for fuck’s sake. Hell, the good ones even have conflict and resolution.

But not this one. It just has hack writing and computer-generated images. I mean, come on. How hard is it to draw these days? Seriously. Is that too much to ask? Have some actual artwork? That’s what makes children’s books so cool. But no. Denied once again. Fucking bullshit.

Whatever you do, DO NOT GET MY BOOK at amazon. It’s known to cause serious brain damage. And it’s fucking hilarious. You wouldn’t want that.

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The Harem – is a whore cult

2 of 5 Happy-Whore Stars – The Harem by Thomas Sweeney.

This book really disappointed me. The author took a great premise and totally skull-fucked it. I mean, why does The Harem need to be a fucking cult? Why can’t it just be about a bunch of filthy whores? Everyone loves filthy whores. You don’t need to make ’em shiny. You don’t need flowers and champagne. All you need is hot ass.

This story is an attempt to make prostitution look like the most glamorous and exciting profession. It’s about a woman who takes an internship at a large corporation. And apparently, she’s special, because she gets offered an opportunity to enter the Program. You know, the Slut Program.

But Susan is no floozey. She takes offense at the mere suggestion of becoming a whore. I mean, who wouldn’t? Even if the position within the Program would set her up for life financially, it’s still selling your body for cash. Even if it’s a million dollars, which it actually is, it’s still sucking dick for money. Even if it means getting eaten out by the most handsome man, and cumming like a fucking race horse, it’s still… Oh fuck it. She’ll totally do it.

I don’t get this bit. She’s so against the idea, and yet a page later she accepts it, and joins the program. I guess all women are whores, when it comes down to it. Is that what this author is trying to say? I mean, he does make the whole proposition very attractive. I’d join the Program in a fucking heart beat. But I’m a guy. All guys are whores. But women? I don’t know, man.

I just expected more of a process for Susan to accept this new position in the Program. I expected her to really wrestle with the idea. Maybe take a bit of convincing. But no. It’s just “Okay, sure. Sign me up. Even though I just called you a fucking cunt for suggesting the idea a page ago.” What the fuck, man?

Then there’s the whole cult thing. The ceremony of becoming part of the Program. Part of the Harem. But why is there a fucking ceremony, man? Just fuck the bitch, and be done with it. Why do you have to eat her out and make her cum over and over? You’re paying her millions to be part of your harem, so why the bloody fuck do you have to pamper the fuck out of her? I don’t get it.

Maybe it’s because this book was written for women. I mean, it has to be, right? What man would want to read this garbage? After the ceremony, Susan is given a new name. It’s ‘Wednesday’. Like she’s the fuck-girl for every Wednesday, or something. I thought that was kind of cool. But the rest of the harem are also named for days of the week. And they just accept this with no resistance. Yes, I’m Robert’s whore for Wednesday. No problem.

But they’re not just whores. They also work his international business. And this is funny, because when Robert introduces his play things to business associates, he introduces them by the name he’s given them. “Hi, George, this is Wednesday.” That’s a bit strange, isn’t it? Then he introduces the rest of them, each as a different name of the week. I get using those names in private, but in public, it doesn’t make any fucking sense.

And then there’s the mind-control. Yes, Robert’s whores learn how to use mind-control and remote viewing, and astral-projection, and all that hippy bullshit. And they use these powers for evil. To go all Inception on some business associates, by planting ideas in their heads and such.

In the end, these were great skills to master, because Robert gets arrested for his evil deeds, and his girls get him off (heh, they got him off) by manipulating the minds of the judges. Nice. But why’d this story have to go all super-natural? Why couldn’t they just be whores, goddamnit? There’s just no reason for all that hippy nonsense. I don’t get it. It must be because I’m not a woman. I’ve only got man-titties, and they’re just not cutting it.

I didn’t like this story. In fact, at times, I hated it. Because it just pissed me off. It took a perfectly good idea and totally destroyed it. Why, man? It just made no sense to me. Most of the story was just boring business bullshit. And happy happy joy joy girly shit. No conflict, whatsoever.

I’d highly recommend this book to women. It’s a perfect fantasy book for women. But I’d strongly advise men to stay the hell away from this piece of shit of a book. Because it’s a complete fucking waste of time. I can’t even jack off to this shit, and I can jack off to just about anything.

Whatever you do, DO NOT GET MY BOOK at amazon. It’s known to cause serious brain damage. And it’s fucking hilarious. You wouldn’t want that.

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Strigoi – is quite the suck fest

2 of 5 Not-Very-Sparkly Stars Strigoi by Ron D. Voigts.

This is a very standard Dracula type story, where a vampire holds a secluded town under his spell. There’s nothing particularly original about it. It’s just vampires and shapeshifters and priests and whores and… Damn, it’s pretty much True Blood.

The story starts out with a man named Alex, trying to kill himself. And he’s not fucking around. He’s got a bottle of pills. A big fucking knife. And he’s jamming a gun in his mouth. He just can’t decide if he should shoot up, for more of a brain angle, or down, for more of a paralyzed the rest of your life angle. Why this is even a consideration, is anyone’s guess.

As he’s standing there in his kitchen, failing miserably to kill himself, a guy raps on the window. “Hey dumbass!” Alex looks around his kitchen, a bit confused. Mumbles something that sounds like, “Whooae meah?” With the gun still jammed in his mouth, of course.

Because fuck that bitch. There’s no fucking way Alex is letting his soon to be ex-wife get the last word. He’s determined to fucking end his life with a bang. “Yeah you, fucktard,” said the stranger outside the window. “I’ve got a package for ya. And trust me, you’re going to like it.”

A non-verbal argument ensued, as Alex tried to explain in no uncertain terms that he was in fact going to kill himself. No package or blowjob was going to change his fucking mind. Okay, maybe a really good blow job. But there’s nothing in a box that would possibly change his mind. Unless it was a dick-in-a-box.

Unfortunately, it was not, in fact, a dick-in-a-box. It was a letter informing Alex that his long-lost uncle had died and left him a huge estate out in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. With tons of cash. And bitches. And vampires. Wait, no it didn’t say anything about the vampires. That would kind of give away Dracula’s evil tricks, now wouldn’t it? I mean it’s hard to lure fresh meat out to your secluded estate if you tell them up front that you ‘vant tooo drink thair bloooood’.

I really liked the first few chapters, and the last few chapters in this book. The in-between chapters sucked donkey balls. It’s just Alex meeting his creepy neighbors. Doing the whole Scoobie-Doo thing as he tries to unravel the mystery of how or why his so-called uncle was killed. And why, oh why do so many people want to suck him off? I mean, I’m not one to protest such things, but come on people, give it a rest.

In the end, I think this book should have been much shorter. Because there’s just way too much filler that didn’t need to be there. It’s just not a 300 page story. 100 pages, at the most. I’d probably even recommend this story if it was a concise 100 pages. Because then it would actually be worth reading. As it is, the bullshit in this story overtakes the good bits, and makes it suck in more ways than one.

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Live Free or Die – harder

2 of 5 Space-Junk Stars – Live Free or Die by John Ringo.

A friend of mine has a hard-on for John Ringo. So he’s always pushing Ringo’s books down my throat. I started reading this book several months ago, but kept having to put it down, because one of the things I hate the most about any kind of fiction is fucking bullshit politics. And this book is FILLED with politics.

Why? Why the fuck do we need politics in space? When I first saw The Phantom Menace, my biggest complaint wasn’t about Jar-Jar, it was about all the fucking politics. I don’t get it. Why tell a story about congress? Why include any kind of politics in a story? It’s bullshit, and it just stalls the story. Politics just bore me to tears, and puts me to sleep every time.

But my friend assured me that this book was worth it. “Trust me, dude. You’ll love it,” he said. Well, fucking bullshit. I hated it. Well, I kind of liked the story, if that’s all it was, but unfortunately, it was inundated with so much political nonsense, that it just wasn’t worth reading. It was a waste of fucking time. I found myself fast-forwarding through pages, to find something that wasn’t littered with politics.

It’s the story that made me want to keep reading, despite the politics. It’s about an alien invasion. But it’s a friendly invasion, of sorts. The aliens just want to do some trades for some heavy metals. Nothing intrusive. We’re just friendly green guys, don’t mind us. Sure. Trust the aliens. Why not. I mean, they only destroyed a few cities. For sport. So they can’t be that bad, right?

But the aliens get bored with destroying things for sport, so they go out looking to get wasted, and come across a local drug dealer, Tyler Durden who’s gotten tired of running his fight club. Tyler learns that the aliens are semi-allergic to most foods on earth, so he sets out to find something that the aliens can tolerate. He makes a bit of a taste test for the aliens, using cups of just about everything. A cup of sugar, a cup of flour, a cup of oil, a cup of whale jizz, and a cup of maple syrup.

All of these choices make the aliens sick, except for the whale jizz. The aliens get high as balls off whale jizz. They can’t get enough of it. And they’ll give Tyler all the sexy technology they have for as much whale jizz as Tyler can provide. So in a very short period of time, Tyler Durden becomes the richest man in the world. I mean seriously, the richest man. Suddenly, he has more money than all the rest of the humans on the Earth combined. That’s a shit ton of dough, man. And a fuck-ton of whale jizz.

So, of course, Tyler Durden sets out to build his own Death Star, which he calls Troy. It’s nearly as big as our moon. Has walls that are a kilometer thick, and is pretty much indestructible. It doesn’t even need weapons. It’s so massive, it can just plow its way through any battle. Throw all the nukes you want at Troy, and it’ll just smile and keep coming at you. It will just keep coming and coming with its synthetic whale jizz. Because that’s how Tyler Durden rolls, man.

This really could have been a good book. But it wasn’t. Because of all the political horseshit. I couldn’t stand it. I had to dig through all that garbage to even find the fucking story. Which was actually a pretty good story, if you took out all the political shit. But it wasn’t a 400 page story. Maybe 200.

If Ringo had just published the actual story, without all the horseshit, it would have been 4 stars, at least. But no. He had to go and skullfuck it, like so many authors do. What a fucking waste. I really hope John Ringo chokes on some whale jizz, just for some poetic justice.

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Outsourced – should have been ghost written

2 of 5 Magic-Elephant-Cock Stars – Outsourced by Eric J. Gates.

After the author of this book sent this one to me for review, I immediately put it on the bottom of my pile of books to review. Because look at this goddamn cover. It’s fucking retarded. I’m not sure why I hate it so much, but I really do. Thankfully, the book was actually better than the cover. Not that it’s good, mind you. It’s just not that bad.

This is the story of two writers, and a magic pen. Oh, and an assassin, who wants his fucking magic pen back. Because it’s really easy to kill people when you have a magic pen that can literally write fatal accidents into your target’s future. Because that’s what this pen does. If you write it, it will happen. Or something like that.

Apparently, the pen is not as easy as it seems. Because it has a mind of its own, and it’s a sneaky little fuck. You see, it’s like a magic Genie in a lamp, apparently. You have to write very specific instructions, or your wish will backfire. Like Nic, one of the writers who came upon the pen. He writes, “I wish my wife wasn’t such a bitch…” And sure enough, she’s not a bitch anymore, because shortly after that, she dies in a horrible car accident. Problem solved, right? I’m telling you, that pen is a motherfucker. A curse, if you will.

Wow. This sounds like a pretty interesting story, doesn’t it? Well, it’s not, goddamnit. It has such an awesome premise. The first few chapters are actually very good, but then comes the conspiracy horseshit. Where did this magic pen come from? How does it work? Let’s go talk to a physics professor and find out some actual science about this thing. Then find out its origin. Crack the secret language that’s written on the box it came in. Do endless google searches. No, not to google “pen in vagina porn”, because that might actually be interesting.

But why all the fucking research, man? I don’t give a fuck how this thing works. Nobody should care how it works, just use it, already. Get rich. Fuck some bitches. Make friendly aliens appear in Central Park, you know just for the fun of it. Because fuck, man. Think of the possibilities. It’s endless.

But nooooo. Because now the NSA are tailing Nic’s ass. And just about every other government spy agency around the globe. I mean, everyone wants this fucking pen. Because, of course they do. It’s fucking awesome! And this cocksuker Nic isn’t even using the goddamn thing. Such a shame. Someone should just send an assassin after him.

The original owner of the pen, the assassin, gets bored in his retirement from killing people, and comes back to the states to retrieve what’s rightfully his. But he finds his assassination attempts against Nic quite frustrating, because now Nic has the Power of Greyskull! Or whatever. He can thwart all of the assassin’s plans just by making a few notes.

Notes like, “I’m immortal” and “I have the biggest cock in the world” and “Okay, I don’t really need a 12 foot cock. Make it just a foot” and “Goddamnit, not a real foot, motherfucker. I mean make it a foot long cock” “Not a chicken! Fuck. Now my cock’s a chicken. A FOOT LONG PENIS, GODDAMNIT. I HAVE A FOOT LONG PENIS, OKAY? IS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU?!”

He wasn’t quite happy with his foot long elephant penis, either. Because it was so fat and wide, it was completely useless. But he decided to cut his losses and do some more google searching: “how to fuck with a foot long elephant cock” google gave him a funny look and said, “fuck a very tiny elephant, you idiot.”

See, here I go making the book more interesting than it is. I often do that when I get bored as fuck while reading a book. Because there was so much conspiracy horseshit in this book, I just couldn’t stand it. The author really did make a great premise, but he skullfucked it so hard, it turned out useless.

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Moirae – is full of God’s nonsense

2 of 5 Free-Will-Is-A-Bitch Stars – Moirae by Mehreen Ahmed.

I didn’t like this book at all. It had too much politics and religion for me to give a shit. The story is supposedly set on some fantasy world, but it seems to me that this fantasy world is simply the Middle East. Because there’s all the jihad shit, and Muslims, and Mohammad and Jesuits.

This story is about the battle between those religions. Where families and farms are wiped out by roving gangs of jihad thugs. Because if you don’t belong to their religion, you don’t deserve to live. You don’t deserve to have a home and a farm. You don’t deserve happiness.

One young man is framed for murder, or something. His family struggles to get enough money to get the boy out of the country. But instead, the boy takes off on a bus. He goes off to try to live his own life somewhere else. And it’s always a struggle. No food. No water. No place to sleep. No pot to piss in.

His life sucks donkey balls, but he struggles on, praying to the random god of the week. Because he can’t decide what he believes in. He’s trying to convert to the best religion, to play with the politics, and finally get a decent job. Or maybe move further out in the country, where nobody will find him.

He finds a church that wants to help him. They give him a place to stay, and chores to do. They feed him, and wash his feet. Because apparently that’s their sick fetish, or something.

Eventually, word gets to him that his family has been brutally murdered, and their farm is just an unclaimed wasteland. So yippie! He goes back home to start his life anew. But everyone knows that the thugs will be back again. They’ll probably rape and pillage once more. But hey, live dangerously, right? Sure.

This entire book went on and on about how God will provide. Don’t worry. I know you’re starving, but God will provide. I know you’re living on the streets. You’re cold. You’re miserable. You want to kill yourself. But don’t worry, God will provide.

Fucking bullshit. God doesn’t provide shit. Ever heard of free will? God helps those that help themselves. In other words, God doesn’t help at all. He gave us free will, so we can fend for ourselves. He’s an absentee landlord. He doesn’t give a fuck about you. People die every fucking day. God doesn’t care.

The characters in this book do finally realize that it’s all a crock of shit. They start doing things for themselves, because it’s pretty goddamn obvious that God’s out to lunch or something. You can’t wait forever for your God fantasy. You have to do it yourself.

Then, of course, when they finally get what they want, they thank God for providing. HE DIDN’T PROVIDE SHIT, YOU STUPID CUNTS! When will people get this through their stupid thick skulls? Probably never. Because people are stupid ass sheep.

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