
I've always said that only sluts get the box set. Those dirty, skanky, little ... damn, I was sure there was a double entendre in there somewhere.

They like to surprise me in the bathroom. Odd, really.

Learn such skills as:
- wiping Vaseline onto authority figures' glasses
- replacing oneself with crudely made dummy
- sneaking away to snort cocaine off of hookers' bellies

My apologies to J.D. Robb for
making fun of the font size of your name and suggesting you shorten it to make the text even larger.
I didn't realize Tom Wolfe had already taken my awful, awful advice.

Also, Enjoy Coke™.

I just
know there's supposed to be sexual imagery somewhere in that photo, but that fucking leaf keeps confusing me. Is it a tampon string?

"Let me tell you about my life as the wife of a — Fuck, he's right behind me, isn't he?"

"Slowly, the lacy ruffle slipped from her shoulder and revealed her armpit necklace in all its bulky glory."

What an incredible slur on the 7-Up dot.
I hope you can sleep at night, Frank, you rat bastard.

"It'd be a shame if something happened to that nice coffee table book you just got. You never know who might break into the house to steal your copy before you read it..."

You can tell it's the 7th edition by the upgrade from
1970s graphics
to early 1980s.

You can cross "technologically savvy enough to take a fucking online quiz" off your list of strengths.

I had no idea that polar bears lived on the grassy plains. Or liked it doggie style. Or were into three-ways.

Well, "Boticelli's Frankenstein" has got to be better than Kenneth Branagh's.

*Photo may or may not approximate how novels actually work. For best results, use as you would any non-fiction bound reading material.

I'm actually pretty good at bringing wood to a finish, but I'm confused by these pictures.

I bet it's this fucking thing:
¤Because, seriously, what's that supposed to be for?

Sometimes the titles write the jokes themselves.

The riveting prequel to 179 Trenton Street, Apartment 4B.

Because a cock in the hand is worth two in the bush.

Why the hell is Cookie Monster wearing clothes? That's just so wrong ... oh god, that makes every
other picture of him look like a total pervert.

Hey, look, Zac Efron as a horse!

Ha ha ha! It's a giant boob!

Why am I watching a woman pee on the beach?

That's not how binoculars work. How can I trust you anymore, Lisa Lutz?

Someone might want to tell him that his crypt is boiling over. And that it doesn't work well to stir with a sword. And not to make soup in a crypt.

Hey, they airbrushed out that guy who was pile-driving me on the beach and photoshopped on some fake-looking shorts. Why the fuck do you think
that summer was so memorable to begin with?

"If you fill these out at a lakeshore or riverbed we will fucking cut you."

"So this one time Lincoln shows up right as I'm painting my fence, and I see him through this knothole perfectly centered like he was posing for a goddamned photograph, and — shit, if that wasn't the greatest moment ever."

It's pretty simple really: smashing your enemy in the head with a rock and chopping off his/her head is a great way to get past your problems with your boss or your ex or your landlord. Try it sometime.

Finally, a good novel about a gobstopper.