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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Yes Please – is disturbingly pleasing

4 of 5 Fucking-Awesome Stars – Yes Please by Amy Poehler.

This book is fucking hilarious, which I found quite surprising. Because I can’t fucking stand Amy Poehler. She’s not funny, goddamnit. Or at least I thought she wasn’t funny. I can’t watch that horrible show Parks & Rec. It’s just so fucking bad. And I was never much of a fan of Poehler when she was on SNL. But holy shit, her writing is fucking hilarious.

This book is more of what I’d expect from an autobiography from a comedian. An actual funny account of their life. How they got to where they are today. The crazy antics from their childhood. And their journey to stardom. That wasn’t what I got from that stupid cunt-face Moshe Kasher, in his horrible book, Kasher in the Rye, which I reviewed here.

But Amy Poehler actually delivers on that promise. She chronicles her journey from being a geeky and mostly unattractive girl in school (even though she still got hit on constantly, because she’s an ugly blond girl and everyone knows that blonds are stupid and easy), to being a fucking superstar. Even though I wouldn’t really call her a superstar. Yes, she’s very successful as a comedian, and makes a good living. But Parks & Rec? Fuck that show, man.

She tells stories like the time she and her girlfriend handcuffed themselves together at school, just for the fun of it. And lost the key on purpose, just to make everyone panic. Good times, man. And all those times that she fucked up her lines at the school play. And everyone laughed, apparently. Because look at that stupid ugly blond girl, fucking up her lines. Isn’t that hilarious?

She’s very self-deprecating, which I alway find funny. I do it myself constantly. There’s a chapter in this book about the demon that lives inside her head. That demon that says “Hey you! Yes, that ugly one. You’re fucking stupid, man. Just kill yourself.” And how she had to deal with that fucking demon every goddamn day of her life. Sometimes she choses to listen to the demon, and get all depressed. But other times she tells the demon to go fuck itself. Right in the ass. Because, fuck you, demon. I’m good, goddamnit. There’s nothing wrong with me, except for the fact that I’m on a shitty TV show. So shut your whore mouth, demon. Get fucked. I gots shit to do.

There are plenty of stories in this book about the many sketch groups she was part of. All the crazy antics that goes with doing live shows every night. You know, getting drunk and blowing some strange guy you don’t even know. Because he promised you some coke if you go down hard. And hey man, a girl’s gotta have her coke now and then, you know.

The only reason I didn’t give this book a perfect 5 star rating is because Amy made the mistake of letting that no-talent hack Seth Meyers write a chapter in her book. Because apparently he offered, and she said ‘fuck yes’. Because apparently, writing a book is hard. Who knew? But seriously, fuck Seth Meyers, man. He’s a horrible writer. And he’s also even less funny than Amy. How the bloody fuck that guy has his own talk show, I’ll never understand.

But I’d still highly recommend this book to just about everyone. It really is fucking hilarious. And smart. And informative. And she even gives you good advice on sex. ‘LICK THAT PUSSY!’ Well, that’s not very much advice. But apparently, as far as she’s concerned, LICK THAT PUSSY OR GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY BEDROOM! Or something to that effect. Oh yea, and apparently her boyfriend Nick Kroll has the biggest cock in hollywood. Yes, even bigger than Liam Neeson. Hard to believe, I know.

KEVIN SMITH LOVES MY BOOK! No, not THAT Kevin. The fat one. He LOVES the cock. Get my book. Because even I’m funnier than Seth Fucking Meyers. http://amzn.to/1wKcVK6

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Tears of Innocence – actually had me in tears

4 of 5 Cycle-Of-Abuse Stars – Tears of Innocence by T. R. Robinson.

I really hated the first part of this book. And I was torn because of it. I mean, how the fuck am I supposed to critique a book about a girl getting raped during WWII? Not to mention getting raped by just about every other man she ever met. Including her goddamn relatives. It was relentless, all the rape and violence.

It took a while to get there, though. To get to the violence, that is. Because that was what I was looking for. Because I’m a sick and twisted fuck. The whole family thing, with her losing her mother, and being moved from house to house… I just didn’t really care.

But then the rape and torture kicked in, and I found myself being glued to the pages of this book. Not just because they were covered with my jizz, mind you. I mean, the story became very real. Because this is an autobiography of sorts, so these things actually happened to this girl. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Her misery just went on and on, like there was no end to it at all.

One thing about this girl that really drove me nuts was the fact that during all her rape and torture, she always called out to God. Why, God? Save me, God. Oh, please, KILL ME GOD! Like he’s some guy watching the whole thing from the clouds and encouraging the rapists. “Oh yeah, that’s good. Get deep in that ass. Yeah.”

Like the world is God’s very own real-life PornHub, or something. Never once did this girl think that there was no God looking after her. He faith never wavered. I don’t know if I’d call that completely retarded, stupid, insane, or just plain brave as fuck. I mean, how is God going to save you? If you believe that God has control over what happens to you, then why’d he let you get captured in the first place? Oh, right. Because, porn.

The girl doesn’t really escape her Nazi captors, she’s just thrown out with the other corpses. I guess they thought she was dead, or something. Maybe they got tired of sloppy 32nds. I mean you can only sodomize a fifteen year old girl for so long, before it just gets way too sloppy. They didn’t even touch the vag. Because, ewww. The vag is gross, man. That thing could eat you alive. Fuck that.

Some nice people find this young girl, moaning amongst the other zombies in the pile, and they pull her out from under the corpses, and take her home and mend her up. And then, they leave. They seemed so nice. But the fucking Nazis are coming, man. Fuck this girl. She can take care of her own damned self. Talk about not-so-good Samaritans.

The girl wanders around the countryside, getting raped and beaten by everyone she meets. By the Nazis, and the resistance alike. Because apparently, this is her lot in life. To get abused. So she just continues the trend. It’s all she knows. By this point, she figures getting raped in the ass, and beaten to a pulp is just what guys did. It’s just normal, right? The beatings are the foreplay, yes?

So she ends up marrying a complete asshole. Who beats the living shit out her even BEFORE they get married. Before? Seriously? Come on, man. What the fuck is wrong with women? If he beats you before you get married, why the fuck would he stop once you’re married? Because after marriage, you’re his, to do with as he wishes. Before marriage, he’s just some asshole. But now, he’s your asshole. Congratulations, you fucking idiot.

I liked this story because it was so real. It wasn’t real because it’s supposedly a true story. It was real, because I’ve known women like this. This shit actually happens. Okay, there’s not usually Nazis involved, but still… It happens. And it’s fucking sad.

I hope all women read this fucking book, and learn a thing or two. Say no, for fuck’s sake. Leave the motherfucker. Kick him in the balls. Buy a motherfucking shotgun. You don’t have to live with abuse. And never ever think you can change a man. Because men don’t change. They just get worse.

Well, except for me, of course. I tried to choke my wife once, when we were first married. She promptly punched me in the face. I’ve been scared to death of her ever since. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And yes, she’s kicked me in the balls more times than I can count. You know, for fun.

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Glenn Hates Books Vol. 1 – is full of hypocrisy

3 of 5 Flaming-Ass Stars – Glenn Hates Books Vol. 1 by Glenn Conley.

Okay, so this guy hates books. I get that. I fucking hate books too. But why’d he go and write a book about it? Isn’t that the most hypocritical thing to do? I mean, it seems like this guy literally wants to put a bunch of books in a pile and burn ’em. Great. So, is he gonna include his book as well, in this pile of books he’s gonna burn? I doubt it. Fucking hypocrite.

Apparently, this book is a collection of book reviews from this asshole’s blog. It’s 229 pages of horseshit, that’s already on his blog for free, for fuck’s sake. What’s the purpose of this goddamn book? Why the fuck would anyone buy it? It makes no sense to me, whatsoever.

Okay, maybe… Just maybe, I’d get this book to read on the shitter. I mean, I have to admit his reviews can be hysterical at times. It’s not something anyone would just buy, and sit down at their comphy chair and read. It’s not that kind of book.

I guess you could say it’s kind of like a novelty book. Like a joke book. Or something like “101 ways to piss off women.” That’s got to be a book, right? But how hard is it to piss off women? Not hard at all. Nobody needs that book, either. But they both serve their purpose. To pass the time, and get a slight chuckle, while waiting at your doctor’s office.

But be warned… I was reading this fucking book at the dentist office. They called my name and I just shouted “Ha! Fuck you, man. Oh not you, sorry. I meant this douchebag who wrote this review of Gone Girl. Fucking guy.” So yea, be careful where you read this thing. It’s dangerous, I tells ya.

There should be a warning on the goddamn thing. Just like fucking Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Well, not just like… I mean that one said “Don’t Panic.” I’m pretty sure that this guy’s warning should be the exact opposite of that. “Dude, Panic! Whatever you do, don’t read this goddamn book!” Or something to that effect.

But something tells me that it would be a briar patch kind of thing. Or maybe a Cartman kind of thing. “No! You can’t get into this amusement park. Now, fuck off.” Which was hailed as one of the most brilliant marketing strategies of its time. Movies started using it, saying “No! You can’t watch this movie. Fuck off!”

And it worked. People found a way to see those movies. They found a way into that amusement park. Because everyone wants something they can’t have. But I hate to break it to ya, Mr. Glenn Cocksucking Conley, but your book is available to anyone who wants to get it. You’re not stopping anyone with your silly warnings.

[ I wrote this review of my book of reviews about two weeks ago, when the cover literally had a warning on it that read, “WARNING: This book has lots of unnecessary profanity. Why? Because, FUCK YOU! That’s why. Got a problem with that? Eat a bag of dicks. They’re like potato chips. You can’t eat just one.” Yes, that entire warning was on the COVER of this book for like 2 days, before I changed it. lolz. I don’t know what I was thinking. ]

So fuck you, Glenn! YOU can eat a bag of dicks! And they’re nothing like potato chips. Well, I guess they are a bit salty. I mean, so I’ve heard.

Get my book, Glenn Hates Books Vol. 1.

It’s FREE AT AMAZON RIGHT NOW!

This weekend only. Get ’em while they’re hot!

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Wanting to Want – makes me want to umm…

4 of 5 Grade-School-Reading Stars – Wanting to Want by Dr. Madeleine M. Castellanos, M.D.

Being written by an actual doctor, you’d think that this book would be a dry-ass text-book. But it’s not. It’s just practical advice about sex that anyone can use. Hell, it even has exercises at the end of each chapter, so you and your partner can stare at each other and go, “Umm, why are we doing these exercises, when we could be fucking right now?

Well, at least that’s what the guy would say. Because, lets face it, men are simple creatures. But we’re not so simple when we can’t get it up. Quite complex, actually. Dr. Castellanos tells us about one of her patients in this book, a young man named Steven. He’s come to her (heh, I said come) because of his limp-dick problem.

But of course, that’s not all it is. It’s usually a mental issue, especially in young men. I mean, you don’t see young men popping Viagra pills, unless they’re porn stars. Apparently, Steven is stressed out. He has performance anxiety. So, this lovely sex therapist slowly massages his back with some baby oil, and proceeds to bang the ever-loving shit out of him on her suede couch.

Oh shit, my bad. That never happened. But still, that’d be cool, right? Isn’t that every man’s fantasy when they go to see a sex therapist? I’d like to think so. But no, she doesn’t have sex with him. Instead, she tells him to hold this little sea-shell in his hand. Feel the grooves. Experience the texture. No, don’t put it up your ass. Just feel it, man.

Finally, she does get Steven to come around (heh, I said come again!) and finally start to enjoy sex with a partner, and by himself.

This therapist gets a lot of lonely housewives in her office. No, I don’t mean ‘gets’ like she’s banging them in her office, I mean she gets a lot of housewife patients who are either bored, or overworked, or just hate their husbands so much, they can’t stand the thought of having sex with him.

She explains to them, “Look, I know your husband is an asshole, but doesn’t he have a huge cock?” And, of course, all of the women responded with, “Are you serious? It’s like one inch long, when erect. Why, what has he told you?”

Wait, what the fuck am I talking about. Oh yea, that’s my penis, my bad. Where was I? Oh yes, how this doctor helped these cold bitches finally come to terms (ha! Come again!) with what was really bothering them. Like Julie, who was pissed off that her husband never helped with the kids, never helped with the housework, and never licked her goddamn pussy.

And then there’s Susan, who worked too much. She had ‘dissociation’ issues, because she had trained her stupid lizard brain to ignore sex. Because there were more important things to do. She had the job, the kids, and all that happy horseshit to deal with. She didn’t have time for sex, goddamnit. So, Dr. Castellanous helped her realize her own sexuality once again, by re-associating sex with good, pleasurable things, instead of boring missionary things.

In the end, I’d say that this is a very well-written book that everyone should have to read when they’re in grade-school. Not in high school, in grade-school. Why? Because, that’s when all this shit starts to happen. In fucking grade-school, man. I remember it vividly. I gave a girl a box of chocolates for Valentine’s day, when I was in the fourth grade. She laughed in my face. So guess what? I never, EVER asked another girl out.

Literally. I just waited around until a girl asked me out. I wasn’t an ugly hag-beast back then, so my chances were still pretty good. But I didn’t lose my virginity until I was 19, because not only would I refuse to ask a girl out, I’d also refuse to seal the deal. I literally needed someone with the balls to just grab my dick and shove it where it belonged.

Yes, it’s pathetic, I know. But still, my point is, read this book as early as you can. Because that shit sticks with you. And not every boy is going to find a woman like my wife, who’s got the brass balls to do what needs to be done.

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Netscape Time – was such a scam

3 of 5 Billion-Dollar-Con Stars – Netscape Time by Jim Clark.

The first time I read this book, it was 1999. Back when internet startups were all the rage, and any retard that started one made billions of dollars.

Seriously? Even Netscape? Yup. It was just a fucking browser. And at the time, it was the shittiest browser on the market. Internet Explorer was better than Netscape, for fuck’s sake. When Firefox first came out, it was light-years ahead of Netscape.

But did Firefox make billions of dollars? Fuck no. Firefox was actually useful. Nothing useful ever makes money. Just ask Nicola Tesla. He’ll tell ya all about useful things that he invented and never got a dime for.

Netscape was bullshit. The company didn’t make anything that was worth one goddamn cent, but it made these motherfuckers billionaires. Because they knew how to con the public, and the stock market. That’s all Netscape was, in the end. One big, billion dollar con.

But Jim Clark made this book fascinating. He made the Netscape con read like a Hollywood blockbuster. This guy knows how to take advantage of the next big thing. It’s Jim Clark’s wheelhouse. He started Silicon Graphics, he helped start Netscape, then he started WebMd.

I’m sure this jackass has started several more companies since. Because, why not? When you’re a billionaire, making money becomes just a hobby. It doesn’t even matter anymore if his companies are successful. It’s just a game to him now.

It sickens me, really. I mean, I love this guy. Jim Clark is my fucking hero. But at the same time, I want to punch his stupid fucking face. Because he just can’t lose. He couldn’t lose if he tried. And it pisses me off so much.

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On Writing – makes King a bloody hypocrite

2 of 5 Do-As-I-Say-Not-As-I-Do Stars – On Writing by Stephen King.

This book is bullshit. If Stephen King followed his own advice in this book, his books would only be about 100 pages long.

Don’t get me wrong, he does give some good advice in this book. For instance: write every day. Good advice, sure. Be concise, and to the point. Good advice as well. But can anyone say that King’s books are concise and to the point? Not really. If anything, they’re the exact opposite.

Here’s some more of his keen wisdom from this book: if you can write a sentence with fewer words and still convey the same idea, use fewer words. This is the bit that gets me. It’s great advice. I use this advice. But King’s books are always chock-full of filler bullshit words/paragraphs/complete chapters that don’t fucking need to be there.

His novel Insomnia, for instance. 672 motherfucking pages. There’s about a 100 page decent story buried in that pile of pages. It’s like this for most of his books. They are just full of bullshit filler.

I used to love King’s books, back in the day. The Shining was fucking awesome. So was Carrie. But since then, he’s just been pumping out the pages for no real reason.

So, fuck Stephen King in his dirty asshole. Because, fuck man. Take your own advice, for fuck’s sake, and stop filling your books with page after page of blithering fat.

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In Search of Captain Beefheart – before google, life was hard

2 of 5 Crazy-Hippy Stars – In Search of Captain Beefheart by Opher Goodwin.

I think I’m too young for this book. Which is funny, because I’m 45 years old, for fuck’s sake. My hair and beard are full-on grey. I’m an old man, as far as I’m concerned. But this book makes me feel I’m a goddamn spring chicken. Because of the 60’s, man.

I fucking hate the 60’s. If the author of this book didn’t send me a copy, and request a review, I would have never read it. If I saw the cover in a book store, I would just keep on walking past. Because they’re hippies, man. Fucking hippies scare me.

This book is about music. From the 60’s, all the way to current music. It’s about being a goddamn groupie. A wanna-be. I would think that it would be easier to be a groupie if you were a hot chick. But the author of this book was up for a challenge. He threw his panties up on the stage, just like the rest of them groupies. That takes balls, man.

It’s the true story of how one groupie dude traveled the world to see all his heroes play great music. And I get that, man. I really do. I’ve just never been that interested in going to concerts. I mean, the music is on the fucking radio, man. Why do you need to go to a concert, and get your fucking ear drums blown the fuck out?

I’ve only been to two concerts in my life, and I fucking hated both of them. They’re too fucking loud. Which is funny, because I’ve been partially deaf my whole fucking life. So when I say they’re too loud, Jesus fucking Christ, they’re TOO GODDAMN LOUD!

Fuck, I sound like an old man. But I’m not. Not compared to this book. it’s just a long, boring, journal entry. It just dragged on and on. I went to this concert. I met this guy. I banged this chick. I snorted this coke. I did so much weed, man, you don’t even know. Fine. You’re a fucking hippy. I get it, man. But seriously, who the fuck cares?

Non-fiction books can be great. But they still need to have a goddamn story. A beginning, middle, and end. And exciting characters, that someone might actually give a fuck about. How about some goddamn development? A character ark. Something, man.

One guy who does this very well is Michael Lewis. He takes real-life events, and turns them into compelling stories. I reviewed his book The New New Thing. It was fucking awesome, because the characters were well developed, and there was an actual story to care about. He also wrote another book you may have heard of, Moneyball.

Don’t get me wrong, this Beefheart book isn’t completely worthless. If you’re really into music, as this author obviously is, I’m sure you’d love this fucking book. I just couldn’t get into it. I mean, music is great, sure. But it’s just music, man. Get over it.

I don’t remember the last time I even listened to the radio, really. I listen to podcasts in my car. Why would I listen to music, when I can listen to Adam Carolla sucking dick for hours on end? That guy can suck a dick, lemme tell ya.

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Kasher in the Rye – is only slightly funny

2 of 5 Totally-Gay Stars – Kasher in the Rye by Moshe Kasher.

This book was a huge disappointment. I expected it to be the story of how Moshe Kasher became such an awesome comedian. But that’s not what it’s about, at all. It’s about his fucking childhood. Seriously, from like birth, until he gets his fucking GED at 16. Like I fucking care about that shit? Fuck no.

I wanted to read about how he first got on stage. How he bombed horribly. How he got gang raped in the alley, behind the club. How he went home crying, to his mommy. But no. It’s not about that at all. It’s just fucking bullshit about how his parents are deaf, and life is so hard… Cry me a fucking river. I don’t fucking care.

Okay, the bit where his mother asked him if he was a faggot every Sunday, after church… That shit was funny. Because, come on, Moshe Kasher is the faggotest guy who ever faggoted. I mean look at this guy…

Of course his mother thinks he’s a faggot. But she assures him that it’s okay. It’s fine, if you’re a faggot. Which it is, of course. But he denies it. Every Sunday, he tells her that no, he’s not, in fact, a faggot. Sure, buddy. Keep telling yourself that.

The book goes on and on about how Moshe tried to get in gangs. Yea right. This faggot tried to get into gangs? Seriously? He’d chip a nail! Then he rants about stealing shit, and doing drugs, and going to rehab over and over. I just can’t see it, man. It’s got to be fiction.

There’s no way this faggot got into gangs, stole shit, did shit tons of drugs, and all that bullshit. There’s just no way. He must have just pulled these stories out of his ass, because I don’t believe a fucking word of it.

And don’t give me shit about using the word ‘faggot’. It’s just a word. Get over it. I’m a big fat faggot myself. But even if I wasn’t, it’s just a goddamn word. And don’t tell me it doesn’t apply to Moshe Kasher, because seriously… Just look at the guy. There’s no fucking way he’s straight. There. I said it.

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The Art of Seduction – is amazingly alluring

3 of 5 Slightly-Amusing Stars – The Art of Seduction by Max Chang.

This book is fucking hilarious, and incredibly stupid. It was well worth reading just for the shits and giggles. I mean, I just can’t put down a book after I come across a passage that gives me good advice for picking up chicks while waiting in line for the bathroom at McDonald’s.

And the book just keeps getting better, and more retarded from there. I’ve always been a big fan of things that are retarded. Usually the more retarded, the better. I mean, who doesn’t think about ways to pick up chicks during an armed robbery? I know I do.

Okay, sure… Some of the scenarios this author proposed were a bit strange. Like, “During a visit from Social Services” or “While helping a blind person cross the street”. I really had to suspend belief just a tad for those. But after each one, I found that you could totally get laid in those situations. Or get kicked in the balls. Probably, just get kicked in the balls.

I’d highly recommend this book to guys who are looking for new and interesting ways to get slapped across the face, kicked in the balls, or just plain murdered. Because, bitches be crazy. And they’re even crazier at scenario # 33, “At an animal rights protest”. So read this book with caution, if you dare.

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