Posts Tagged ‘book report’

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3 of 5 Hardcore-Porn Stars – Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller.

Apparently, Henry Miller was the Hank Moody of his time. And if you don’t know who Hank Moody is, go watch Californication for fuck’s sake. He’s a fucking rock star of a writer. He gets all the pussy. Does all the blow. And he has a huge cock, like all rock stars do.

This book made me want to be a writer. I mean, many books have inspired me to write, but none other promised so much unending pussy. And anal. This book made the life of a broke and starving writer seem so bloody awesome.

But maybe it had less to do with the idea that writers get all the pussy, and more to do with the fact that this book is set in Paris, France. Because everyone knows that French girls are freaky sluts.

There wasn’t much of a story in this book. It’s not really a story. It’s just the rantings of a sex-crazed writer. I don’t know if you can even call it fiction, because it actually is the story of Miller’s life in Paris.

He sort of blends fact and fiction. Like yes, he did walk down to the corner store to get some milk. But he didn’t really get blown by a 14 year old girl on his way there. Those little details don’t really matter, do they?

It makes me wonder if any of the crazy sex in this book actually happened. I think it’s more likely that he didn’t get laid at all. He was just writing this book and started fantasizing. I mean, why write about how bloody depressed I am? How about writing about some girl fellating me, while I write this epic masterpiece? Yeah. That’s hot.

It’s funny to me that a lot of the best writers of our time are just glorified pornographers. Because that’s what this book is. It’s just porn, from beginning to end. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good porn. It’s literary porn. So you can feel all smart and stuff while you’re jackin’ it.

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3 of 5 Super-Bored Stars – Magic Artinia by Alina Grigorovitch

This book is very strange. It’s like a homework assignment. Like the teacher said, “Okay class, I want you to write a story about a unique world. A complete planet, separate from our own.”

In that respect, I’d have to give this author a C-. She created a unique world, sure, but she cheated. All she did is take the Earth, and everything about it, and change a few minor details. Like God. Their God is the same as ours, but it’s Bob. Like, “Bobdamnit!” or “For Bob’s sake, stop being such a cunt!”

And then there’s Diet Coke, or as this world calls it, ‘Diet Crack’. Apparently all soda-pop is referred to as Crack. Not as a joke. I mean, that’s what the fucking government calls it. They have food laws and shit. “You’re only allowed one can of Crack per day…”

Another reason that this book is sub-par, is because of its complete lack of anything resembling a fucking story. It’s like the author spent so much time coming up with her so-called ‘unique world’, that she forgot to actually include a story. Because this book is like a long episode of Seinfeld. It’s pointless. It’s about nothing. It just goes on and on about the normal, every-day life of people on this planet. Nothing interesting happens. Just people going to work. Going on a vacation to Hawaii. Going to school. Who gives a flying fuck?

Oh, but some of these perfectly boring people can actually fly! It’s part of this whole ‘unique world’ thing. People of this planet have what they call ‘tokens’, which are super-power like abilities. Everyone has a token. Some can fly. Some can see really far. Some can do math really well. Some can time travel. And some can bang your mom. Because seriously dude, your mom is nasty.

Okay, fine. An entire world filled with people who have super-powers. Wow, this should be good, right? I mean, with all those super-powers, something cool has got to happen, right? Not even, man. For some reason, nobody really uses their super-powers. Because for them, tokens aren’t really super. Your token is more like a zit on your forehead. You don’t really want to show it off to everyone. In fact, most people of this world hide their tokens, out of embarrassment.

What the fuck? Why do authors have to skullfuck their ideas so much? You create a world full of super-heroes and super-villains. There should be non-stop action, for fuck’s sake. But no. It’s just filing these papers. Getting some coffee. Chatting up some cute girls. Oh. My. Bob. Come on…

There should be so much more action in this fucking book. Not that there has to be non-stop action, mind you. You can make a perfectly good story without any real action at all. Just make it interesting. Have characters that someone might actually give a shit about. Is that so hard? Am I asking too much? I think not.

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4 of 5 Golden-Ticket Stars – Ready Player One by Ernest Cline.

So, Willy Wonka and the virtual world. That’s what this book is. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It still makes for a very interesting book. But I still had some issues with it.

The “Ready Player One” bit, for instance. That is a phrase for arcade games, or console games, where there are possibilities of a second player. The way this game is described, everyone has their own console, or actually a visor that logs them into the virtual world. There’s never a second player. At no time would this game ask “Ready Player One”.

That argument aside, this is a very cool book. A compelling read that is only mostly predictable. I mean, from the very beginning, you find out that the protagonist will in fact be the one who wins the contest. So, the rest of the book is just the story of the journey of how he got there.

It’s not very often that an author spoils the entire book from the very first page, but this author does it with style. He’s all “Fuck you, man! This is what’s going to happen… Deal with it.” *Puts on sunglasses*.

This book is about a virtual reality game that everyone on the planet is pretty much addicted to. The creator of the game dies, and wills his vast fortune to whomever can find and solve the many Easter eggs that he scattered throughout the game. It’s a crazy, fun adventure, most of the time.

I’m not going to mention the completely impossible bits that make no sense. Because that would be nit-picky. And, I’m not a nit-picker, damnit. Oh, who am I kidding. I’m totally a nit-picker. Okay, maybe I’ll mention just one bit that made no sense whatsoever. Like the fact that the protagonist spent hours on an arcade version of Ms. Pac-Man, to get a perfect score.

There was no reason for him to do this. He did not know there would be a reward from this accomplishment, that would win him the entire contest. So, why did he set forth to get the perfect score? Just because he has crazy OCD? He never had OCD before that… So, yea. Doesn’t make sense at all.

It was still a very fun book to read. But yea, fuck Willy Wonka. Fuck him in his dirty chocolate asshole.

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4 of 5 Pesky-Devil Stars – Messenger by Lois Lowry.

This book is one of the low-tech stories in the Giver series. It’s set in a simple village. People have simple lives, working on farms, weaving cloth, smelting iron, etc.

It’s the story of what happens when the devil comes to town. It’s not actually said that the man is, in fact, the devil. But to me, it’s the only logical conclusion.

Because, the devil offers people amazing gifts. He can heal the sick. He can make someone love you. He can give you riches. A beautiful house. A majestic horse. Pretty much anything you desire, the devil can provide.

But of course, there’s a price to be paid for all these gifts. The forest is dying. Hell, their world is dying. So, one boy takes it upon himself to heal their forest, and set everything right that the devil has set wrong.

It really is a heartwarming tale. It seriously pisses me off that there wasn’t much wrong with it. The characters were vibrant. The story was well told.

Most of the time, I find myself rooting for the villain. But in this story, I actually wanted to see good prevail. Because the author actually made me give a shit about the characters. I wanted them to live, and be happy.

This is so uncharacteristic of me. I usually enjoy the pain and suffering on the page. But with this book, I really wanted to see the devil get what he deserved. And so, he did.

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3 of 5 Sick-And-Twisted Stars – Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk.

I wouldn’t call this a novel. It’s a novella, at best, that creates a setting for the characters within the novella to tell their short stories. Frankly, this would have been a better book if was just a collection of short stories without the bullshit novella that ties them all together. It doesn’t need that connection. The short stories have nothing to do with the novella that is intertwined.

Most of the time, I found myself skipping, or skimming most of the novella, and just reading the sort stories. Because, the short stories were mostly quite insane and interesting to read. The novella was boring as fuck. Sure, they had to resort to cannibalism to stay alive, but who gives a fuck? All of those characters are useless assholes, who deserve to get eaten anyway.

So, yea. This book is completely fucked in the head. I’m pretty sure the author was on acid when he wrote this shit. I’m glad I read it, for the completely fucked up bits, but I’m still pissed off that I had to wade through the bullshit of that novella just to get to the good short story bits.

There’s the guy who got his guts sucked out his butthole, because he was sitting on the pool drain, while masturbating. There’s the call girl who only does ‘foot jobs’. She can end your life, just by massaging your feet. A nun who kills people with a bowling ball. A chef who kills critics who give him a bad review. (Oh shit! Fuck. I’m a dead man…)

I persisted to the end, just for the fucked up parts. But they were hard to find. Like mining for shit-covered gold. Often times, the worthless fucking novella got in the way of the short stories that it was supporting, and it was hard to tell them apart. In this fashion, it was actually work to get through this book. I had to like, concentrate or something. It hurt my tiny wittle brain.

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3 of 5 Mind-Controlling-Zombie Stars – Super Anybody by Brent Meske.

I have to say that this book is an improvement over the first book in this series. Just barely. It seemed more real to me. I didn’t even notice the complete absence of profanity. I did, however, notice the continued theme of brilliant skullfucking.

The author of this book assured me that there would be less skullfucking in this book. Something tells me that he’s not very familiar with one of my favorite terms. You see, skullfucking is a true artform. You take a perfectly good story and completely wreck it. And let me tell ya, this author is a real skullfuck artist.

Because the first half of this book is horseshit. So much teenage angst, it nearly made me puke. And oh noes, daddy’s acting weird. And mom’s turned into a complete bitch. Nevermind the fact that there’s a bunch of teenagers running around town with superpowers.

No, that’s not important. Forget that shit. Nothing to see here. See, that’s how you skullfuck a story. Just ignore the good parts, and go on and on about teenage bullshit. Oh, I wonder if that girl likes me. I think I’ll have some coffee. My dad’s banging my teacher… Who the fuck cares?

This book is about an entire town being mind controlled by some evil asshole. He wants to activate all the angsty teens, so their new-found superpowers will cause complete chaos, and destroy the city. Okay, fine, when do we get to that part? Does the book start there, or does it take a couple chapters to get going?

Fuck no, the book doesn’t start there. The book drags on and on for over 100 pages, before any of that cool shit starts to happen. And that’s when our so-called protagonist, Michael, finally gets his powers. He can do some kind of mind control shit. And he has strange visions.

And then he dies. Because, he’s a fucking idiot. But he’s not really dead. Or something. So he does some sort of zombie mind-control, or astral-projection, or something to try and help his friends battle the bad guy.

I don’t get this. The entire series of these books are centered around dumbass Michael. So why kill him? Or disable him at all? He’s the jackass who’s supposed to carry the story forward, goddamnit. What the fuck? Even though the kid is a useless cunt most of the time, he’s still the primary character. So to me, his so-called death just stalled the story. And for why? I have no fucking idea.

Then, Michael wakes up, just in time to have his epic showdown with Voldemort. Seriously, that’s totally what this story reminds me of. Michael had an encounter with this Voldemort character, when he was just a wee lad. The Voldemort guy tried to take away Michael’s powers then, but failed. Just like fucking Harry Potter.

I say that this story is an improvement over the first, just because the second half of this book was actually worth reading. It finally became a fun adventure. It actually un-skullfucked itself into a decent story for a second or two.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, the skullfucking returns, and Michael climbs a tower and fucking kills himself. For no apparent reason. What the fuck, man? Everyone knows that Michael is going to return. It’s just not shocking anymore, after he died the first time.

Wait… That was Michael’s father Michael who climbed the tower and tried to kill himself. I’m so fucking confused right now. Why the bloody fuck are so many people in this book named Michael?

I get that the author is just trying to set up his next book in the series. But that just pisses me off. I’m only going to read the next book if these books are actually good, not because of a goddamn cliffhanger.

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3 of 5 Look-Who’s-Talking-Now Stars – Allegiant by Veronica Roth.

Shortly after starting this book, I got worried. I started to think that Tris was most certainly going to die. It was the only explanation for why the perspective kept jumping around from Tris, to Four, to some other jackass…

I mean, the first two books were written in the first person, from the Tris perspective. And then this book, jumping around from one perspective to another, was not only annoying as fuck, but it was very telling as to what’s going to happen to the narrator of the other books. She’s going to fucking die. There’s no other explanation for the other perspectives.

If you can get past these bullshit perspectives, and just try to enjoy the actual story in the book, it’s actually a decent book. There’s lots of action. There’s betrayal. Love gained, and love lost. A jail break. And finally, the death of the most annoying whiney-ass bitch, the angst-ridden Tris. Thank god.

This story centers around a rebellion. The people who call themselves the Allegiant. They are determined to get back to their old way of life. Where they’re all sorted into factions. So, I guess the Allegiant just want to go back to being mindless drones. Wow. So rebellious.

This book is also about finding out the truth about their society. How it came to be. What really are the Divergent? I mean, are they trying to get rid of the Divergent people, or are they, in fact, the reason for the whole society in the first place?

The description of how their walled-up society came to be is just fucking retarded. The Purity Wars? Seriously? There was a war about who’s genetically pure, and who’s supposedly flawed? That’s just silly. Then again, there have been wars about sillier things. Like religion. And slavery.

And yes, the Divergent are, in fact, the chosen ones. They are the genetically pure ones. But, unfortunately, it turns out that Four isn’t a real Divergent. He’s just slightly Divergent. So, he’s still flawed. So he and Tris break up, because who wants to be with someone who’s flawed. Awwww. So sad.

But don’t worry. They get back together, just before she dies. Because, drama and shit. The stupid thing is, there really was no need for her to die. I really don’t get it. In fact, I think the story would have been much better if she lived. Oh well. One less whiney-ass bitch.

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4 of 5 Unemployed Stars – Lyric the Unknown by Jim Maher.

This is a great book. I fucking loved it. Maybe it’s because I played the violin as a child, or maybe it’s because it’s a complete rip-off of In the After, but I don’t care. It’s still fucking awesome.

It’s the story of a young girl who hates her fucking violin. I can relate, because I hated mine too. I couldn’t play for shit. I couldn’t even read music. But one time, I was glad I had it with me. A few bullies cornered me as I was walking to school. But they soon left me alone as I raised my violin case and said “Bring it, bitches!”

Young Lyric was practicing her violin one day, when all the sudden, the end of the world came. She could see people running and screaming in the streets below her building, as monsters took over the city. Her sister and mother were taken, shrouded in a cocoon, and dragged to the bowels of the city.

Lyric wakes up 50 years later, still clutching her violin and bow. She uses her violin to bust out of the cocoon, and finds herself in complete darkness. Soon, she is chased by hideous monsters. She flees, finds some stairs, and is saved by a kind stranger.

She awakes to a whole new world. The world of The Heights, where it’s safe from the monsters. Because, apparently the monsters are like vampires or something. They burn in sunlight, so they stay in the bowels of the city.

Lyric is introduced to The Council, where they discuss her future. She’s told that she is an ‘Unknown’, which to me was quite a mysterious thing. What does it mean? Does she have like super-powers, or something? No, it just means that she doesn’t have a job. Seriously? That’s so fucking retarded. I expected so much more from the ‘Unknown’ idea, but I guess the author didn’t have time to come up with something cool. Damn.

She’s put through a test, where they try to find out what she’s good for. What can she do? Can she be a Healer? Fuck no. A map-maker? No fucking way. She’s fucking useless. She fails all the tests, and is doomed to exile, unless she can make herself useful.

So, out of boredom, she busts out her violin, and plays some music. And somehow, everyone is amazed. They’ve never heard music before. Seriously? Okay, it’s 50 years in the future. So, it’s what, 2065? How the fuck none of these people have heard music before, I don’t understand. I mean, nobody sings in the shower? Come on…

It’s explained, sort of. The creator of this world had a flaw in his design. Music fucks everything up. So, he bans it. That still doesn’t explain why someone wouldn’t sing in the shower. It doesn’t explain the complete lack of knowledge that music ever existed. I mean, murder is against the law, but it happens every day anyway. There’s just no way you can completely remove music from a society.

Parts of this book needed more detail. The so-called testing, for instance. It’s like she entered the testing area, talked to some testing bitch, and it’s over. Next chapter. What the bloody fuck? How about some actual tests, goddamnit? I wanna know how she fails so miserably at everything.

But I guess that’s what makes this book so good. Because I kept wanting more. And it was fucking hilarious. I literally laughed out loud several times. And cried. What the fuck is wrong with me?

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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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2 of 5 Space-Dildo Stars – 2147 by SDZ Whitaker.

Can you imagine the Earth with 15 billion motherfuckers on it? I can’t. That’s too many goddamn people. Just imagine all those fuckers arguing all the time. It would be hell on Earth. There’s no way our population would get that much out of control. At some point, Al Gore, or some other green nutjob would have dropped a bomb and wiped out at least 1/4 of that population. Just sayin’.

This book is about one such population problem. The solution, of course, is to find some way to populate some other planets. To spread our herpes to the rest of the galaxy, and hope for the best. So some scientist guy designs a faster than light drive, and our world is about to be saved…

But then the aliens came. They came all over the place. On their TV screens. On the walls. On the cat. Because, apparently, unbeknownst to us, the Earth is really one big reality TV show. You know, like that one South Park episode.

Oh, and aliens have been living on the Earth for hundreds of years, just waiting for the right time to strike. Jacking off constantly to their live-streaming Earth porn. But hey man, you can only jack off so many times, before you have to venture outside and wreak some havoc.

And then comes the politics. Fuck politics, man. I fucking hate politics. It ruins so many stories, it just pisses me off so much. Seriously. I mean, wouldn’t The Hunger Games be about 9 billion times better without all the goddamn political horseshit? Damn right, it would.

Like 90% of this goddamn book is politics. The Earth’s government having meetings about what the fuck to do with these perverted aliens. The alien government having meetings to discuss their overwhelming shortage of lube. You know, the important issues of their time.

Then the book turns into Independence Day. Because the light-speed scientist can’t figure out how to build a good enough space ship that won’t just rip apart as soon as it hits light speed. But hey, he’s seen some movies, man. He knows what’s up.

So he steals one of the alien spaceships, and gets his hacker girlfriend to design a dildo-looking transmitter on the outside of their new-found ship, so they can hack into the alien mothership, just in case they got lost. Seriously. They hack into the mothership, not to save the world and all that happy horseshit, but to get maps. MAPS!?

Yeah, apparently they were like really really lost, and there was no fucking way the scientist dude was going to stop by a gas station and ask for directions. No, couldn’t do that. For one, there weren’t any gas stations floating out in space, and for another, his girlfriend would totally think he was a pussy if he stopped and asked some local hillbilly for directions. So, fuck that. Just hack the mothership. That makes sense.

With their sexy new maps, the scientist dude and his girlfriend slip through a wormhole in space, and are stopped by another alien spaceship on the other side of the wormhole. The humans almost inadvertently started an all-out galactic war, until one of the aliens recognized them.

Then the humans start their new careers as intergalactic porn stars. Because that’s the only way I can make this book sound interesting. Seriously, it’s not interesting at all. It’s boring as fuck, in fact. Too much politics, and not enough porn.

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