The Casual Vacancy - a book review

I'm thinking of renaming this blog to better represent my current interests.  It's a toss-up between 'Book Corner: Weekly Book Reviews' and 'Fuck You All - Especially Children and People in Wheelchairs.'  Let's try the book review deal, because Mr. Google gets all confused when you type 'people in wheelchairs are stupid fuck these people' into the search box.

Today's book is J.K. Rowling's novel, The Casual Vacancy.  Here's what it looks like.

It's about a woman who used to be a famous bestselling author, but gave it all up to pursue her childhood dream of becoming a slumlord.  Now on to the actual review.

This (above) is an artist's rendering of the prologue.  Okay, I just searched Google images for 'book.'  The prologue is rather profane, but here it is: "Fuck Harry.  I hate him.  You people will buy anything with my name on it.  How about I vomit all over this keyboard?  You'll buy it.  I'm calling it 'Puke.'  Maybe you'll like the final book in the Harry Potter series, tentatively entitled, 'Harry Potter and Ron Weasley Make Passionate Love.'  The publisher is recommending a different title.  They want to call it 'Now My Twig Points At You.'  They say that will make it easier to sell."

Rowling goes on like this for another ten pages.  I found it to be an engaging eleven page rant.  It explained much about the motivations of the characters whom we have yet to meet. 

This (see picture above) is about in the middle.  It's clear that Rowling passed out drunk on the keyboard because we get 24 pages of the letter O.  SPOILER ALERT!  I thought this was an effective way to illustrate why the baby committed suicide. 

This is the end of the book.  Rowling tries to collect the rent from one of her tenants.  "Fuck you, bitch!" are his last words.  She pulls a knife out of her purse and stabs him in the gut, presumably, as a warning to other tenants. 

Some parts of the book seemed rushed, like the auto-asphyxiation chapter, while others plodded along, like the chapter where Rowling bought her first substandard house.  Overall it was a good read and well worth a few hours of my mortality.  I give it 4.59 stars out of 5.  I can't afford to pay an artist to make a star that's 59% colored.

California governor's debate

This is my review of the California gubernatorial debate.  The most obvious question you're probably asking yourself is, what the hell is a gubernatorial?  It's a boxed candy (chocolate covered peanut) usually eaten at a movie theater.  I don't know why they call it a gubernatorial.

It's Neel Kashkari versus the ABC 10 logo versus Jerry Brown. 

Jerry Brown tries to blow up Neel Kashkari's head with his thoughts. 

Neel Kashkari explains the unusual spelling of his first name.  "My mother named me after one of the truck drivers whom she suspected was the father.  Oh, by the way, her great grandfather was from Europe or something.  We grew up dirt poor.  We ate dirt sandwiches.  Does that help?" 

He continues, "I don't shave my head because I'm going bald.  I shave my head to keep germs to a minimum.  Oh, by the way, Federal Reserve notes are just like women.  They're unsanitary and should only be handled by the corners." 

The current governor, Jerry Brown, explains, "... the ankle bracelets really aren't that uncomfortable.   I should think that the people of our great state would want to wear one.  Anyway, I don't see what the fuss is about.  Oh, by the way, I fucked Linda Ronstadt. " 

Brad McBeardman asks Governor Brown, "Governor Brown, tell us about your plan for California residents."

"I propose that all residents of California get lobotomies.   Additionally, I propose that the speed limit be lowered to 1 MPH and the drinking age be raised to 99.  This will save countless lives and my lobotomy law will create thousands of jobs at the DMV.  Oh, by the way, I fucked Linda Ronstadt. "

I hit stop and erase so I don't know how it turned out.   Channel 1602 looked more interesting.

A Writing Primer

This is what makes for good writing.  Detailed details and documenting the character's thoughts in italics.  Readers appreciate the insight.  Note how this story comes to life!
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Stephen took the previously frozen pizza out of the oven.

This pizza used to be in the fucking freezer.

He managed to escape third degree burns on his right hand (his preferred hand) by using an oven mitt.

I'm glad I'm not some left-handed fuck.  Fucking puffy oven mitt.

The oven mitt was black and made from a puffy fabric. Stephen assumed the oven mitt had certain flame retardant properties. He thought about the oven mitt's flame retardant properties as he stuck his hand into the oven to retrieve his previously frozen pizza.

This fucking thing better protect my fucking hand.  I'd better not get third-degree burns, motherfucker.

The directions on the backside of the pizza box indicated that the pizza should be baked for eighteen to twenty-one minutes at a temperature of four-hundred degrees.

Fucking eighteen to twenty-one fucking minutes.  Figures.  I don't have eighteen to twenty-one fucking minutes.

The pizza had approximately fifteen pepperoni looking things sitting on top.

Fifteen Pepperoni looking things.  You fuckers.

Stephen assumed these were, in fact, pepperonis. This could have been an elaborate ruse by the Nestle corporation to deceive him. He thought about the possibilities of this conspiracy as he cut the pizza into eight equal slices with his pizza cutter.

I bet these aren't actual pepperonis.  Nestle fuckers.  Just like the World Trade Center towers weren't actually hit with actual planes.  Muslim fuckers.

He bought this particular pizza cutter at a local grocery store. The grocery store has since gone out of business and the contents were liquidated at a sheriff's auction.

Fucking sheriff and his fucking auction.  Fuck him and the horse he rode.  Fuck horses too.

Motor City Masters

This show is doomed. It's called 'Motor City Masters,' so naturally it takes place in Los Angeles - affectionally dubbed, 'The Motor City.'  The show has some guy, some lady in a fucked-up hat, and that chick from the 'Dog Eat Dog' gameshow that nobody watched.  'Motor City Masters' follows the same format as every reality competition show you've ever seen in your entire life, so there's no point in complaining about each thing that bothers me

Here's a short list of things that bother me:

1) A different contestant leaves each week thanks to judges nobody has ever heard of based on criteria that nobody understands.

2) Then there's the private interviews. They're just like MasterChef, but without Gordon Ramsey and blurry fruits and vegetables in the background. They usually tell you how badly they want to win.

"I want to win so bad that I can [taste/feel/touch/smell/annoy/aggravate/murder/lick] it.  Incidentally, is it bad or badly?"

"I want to win so bad that I'm experiencing chest discomfort and am having problems with shortness of breath.  Oh wait, never mind, it's a heart attack."

"Your wheels look like shit." says the lady with the fucked-up hat.

Sometimes they tell you what just happened five seconds ago, which is very helpful.

"That lady with the fucked-up hat told me the car's wheels looked like shit.  My wheels don't look like shit!  Maybe a rocks glass full of vomit, but not shit.  Oh, by the way, can you get the medic?"

But the show is not without merit - next week we get to see that lady wear a different fucked up hat. This may be the first show where I actually look forward to the GEICO commercials.

The Cult - A YouTube Retrospective

Our first history lesson begins here.  From 1985.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCOSPtyZAPA

Here, the record company bought everybody lunch in order to keep costs low during the production of this one. Some pizzas for the crew and a salad for Ian Astbury, who does his best Steven Tyler impersonation.

This is especially impressive because it would be years before Steven Tyler became Steven Tyler.  Incidentally, Tyler traded his last $20 bill for what turned out to be a small bag of baking powder, and finally, his last $1 bill for a hot dog at a Providence Chevron station.  Aerosmith was in ruins, the hot dog was stale - it was probably spinning for hours, and Joe Perry was busy being a stay-at-home dad changing Katy's diaper. Meanwhile, Tyler was swapping blow-jobs for drugs in bathroom stalls of dirty nightclubs across New England.

And, today's second lesson.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RD5b_0QB0wI

Aside from Astbury, who looks like a zombie authority figure, or, a zombie policeman about to write a parking ticket, the rest of the band comes out of filming a Bananarama video.  Fresh off the success of the previous video, the record company spent an extra $50 and hired some dancing transvestites.  They are featured prominently in this video.  They steal the show with their interpretive 60s dance, "A fly is dive-bombing my head - just a second."  They also have really long arms, like Bigfoot does in that famous video.

Promised Land - a movie review

This one has a lot of, uh, promise.  Yeah, that's the word I was looking for.  So let's jump in!

It stars Matt Damon as some guy who works for an evil corporation run by bald men.  Ben Affleck has been killed by Minnie Driver and she's in a women's prison serving 20 years to life.  After a lesbian, pillow fight scene that is completely incongruent, we jump to an expensive restaurant in a decadent big city.  Matt has lunch with a bald man from the evil corporation, Global something or other.  Global Amalgamated Diversified Holdings - a Textron ® company.

He explains much of the backstory, and orders a Lobster salad.  It seems he's good at talking to these country fucks because of years of therapy from Robin Williams, among other things.

The taxi driver takes Matt to the corner of 3rd street and Indiana avenue, whereupon he meets a hooker, and we have another uncomfortable sex scene.  It's very graphic, with Matt pulling a ball gag out of his carry-on, and the hooker beating Matt like the proverbial red headed step child.  That's all I'm going to say.

Next, we meet the Frances McDormand character.  She's in town investigating some malfeasance.  She rented a 1990 Ford Explorer from some guy named Eddie.  This part almost entirely killed my suspension of disbelief.  I mean, these stopped being rentals, like, a hundred years ago.  Like the Clint Eastwood character driving a 1965 Mustang Convertible in 'Trouble With the Curve.'  More like, 'Trouble With Incontinence.'

Then we're introduced to the Titus Welliver character, who runs a sex shop.  Matt attempts to pay for a dido with his corporate Amex card, Titus mumbles something about Deadwood, and angrily grabs the card.

Matt explains to this hayseed that Global will buy his family six months worth of frozen pizza dinners in exchange for his twenty acres.  The hayseed agrees to the deal.

Matt then has lunch with another bald man.  This man is particularly corrupt.  He sells out for a years worth of Snickers bars.

Matt gets drunk and picks up this chick.  Another weird sex scene follows.  Let's just say the audience was mortified.

 

Next we get the sanctimonious Hal Holbrook character.  He explains that he's a high school teacher.  Yeah sure, geriatric teachers.  That's it for me.  I stopped watching after that little gem.

I turned to Univision.  I don't understand Spanish, and that's fine by me.  It looked like they were having a Karaoke competition.

9/14/03

Once upon a time there was a boy named John.  He lived in a tree.  It was cold sometimes and sometimes it was hot.  This was okay with John because he had long underwear, a cell phone, and liquid nitrogen.  Sometimes he got hungry.  So, he ate birds and worms.  Catching worms was difficult because he never once came down from his tree.  So, he would poke a stick into the ground.  At some point years later he accidentally poked a youth in the eye.  The youth shot and killed John.

THE END