Hello, and welcome to the last — Ha ha! Do you hear
me? Last! Last! — stop on the “Rainy Day Fun and Games for Toddler and Total Bastard” virtual book tour, the book tour that is about to have its head cut off and be buried at a crossroads. My name is Greg Knauss and I’m here to tell you that nothing could express how I feel about my damned book at this point better than the name of this site. I’m going to go buy another copy of it right now, so that I can torture it to death when it arrives. You should, too. If you do it just right, you can get it to scream.
Here, try this: Take a whim, a thoughtless little trifle, and carry it around on your back for a month. The son of a bitch will weight nine hundred pounds by the time you finish. Over the past four weeks, I’ve written more about the book than is in the book. The thought of writing one more word, one more single word, is enough to make my throat constrict. The copy sitting on my desk — which was once a source of pride — now mocks me, taunts me, makes fun of my haircut. “Ha ha,” it says. “Shill me! You’ve got a schedule to keep. C’mon, tubby, move it!”
Well, not anymore “Rainy Day Fun and Games for Toddler and Total Bastard,” not anymore. I’m through with you. Oh, sure, you only cost six bucks and make a great gift, but you’re dead to me. I don’t care that you’re So New Media‘s best-selling title or that you’ve been roundly praised by people without a financial stake in your success. You’re an oppressive little bastard and I can’t wait until this stop is over so I can never think about you again.
Oh, you think you’re cute, don
Just when I think my surounding can’t get any weirder, you host a stop on a book tour of a complete lunatic, excellent way to confuse me.
Just when I think my surounding can’t get any weirder, you host a stop on a book tour of a complete lunatic, excellent way to confuse me.
What? You don’t like lunatics? Then what are you doing here? I think you choose weird surroundings intentionally.
What? You don’t like lunatics? Then what are you doing here? I think you choose weird surroundings intentionally.
I just farted.
I just farted.
Smells like… Woody.
Smells like… Woody.
thankyou for wasting my time readin something capable of being wrote by a defected irish midgets inbred son. I dont know why you bothered to write down what you think in your head because it obviously isn’t worth the space you used on the web, i will now look at something worthwhile and educating, pig sex and german baby eaters.
thankyou for wasting my time readin something capable of being wrote by a defected irish midgets inbred son. I dont know why you bothered to write down what you think in your head because it obviously isn’t worth the space you used on the web, i will now look at something worthwhile and educating, pig sex and german baby eaters.
Man, and that day’s entry was actually by Gragg Knauss. I hope she wasn’t judging the entire site by that day’s entry.
because we normally have a lot more pig sex and german baby eaters than we did that day.
Man, and that day’s entry was actually by Gragg Knauss. I hope she wasn’t judging the entire site by that day’s entry.
because we normally have a lot more pig sex and german baby eaters than we did that day.
you are an idiot! get a life!
you are an idiot! get a life!
i love to masterbate to your book.
you are a god!
i love to masterbate to your book.
you are a god!