post the funniest book you ever read. I highly suggest you all download a copy of this. the LULZ are epic.
>>8200072
What, you don't think thoughts have matter?
>>8200227
Thoughts do have "matter", in an electrical sense.
>>8200247
Damn right!
I discovered an incredibly shit author the other day, totally on accident, actually, I wasn't even in my shit-sniffer mode when I accidentally picked up Mitch Albom's The Time Keeper, holy Christ impaled liver-first on a pitchfork, that shit is pungent beyond belief.
Mitch Albom: Utter Shit.
>>8200275
Give us a taste of the prose anon
haven't read it though
>>8200303
Entire First Chapter. No fucking joke. It would be like half a page if it were printed on normal sized pages but the book is one of those fucking tiny half-sized books.
[Inexplicably bolded.] A man sits along in a cave.
His hair is long. His beard reaches his knees. He holds his chin in the cup of his hands.
He closes his eyes.
He is listening to something. Voices. Endless voices. They rise from a pool in the corner of the cave.
They are the voice of the people on Earth.
They want one thing only.
Time.
[Again inexplicably bolded.] Sarah Lemon is one of those voices.
A teenager in our day, she sprawls on a bed and studies a photo on her cell phone: a good-looking boy with coffee-colored hair.
Tonight she will see him. Tonight at eight-thirty. She recites it excitedly--[italicized] eight-thirty, eight-thirty!--and she wonders what to wear. The black jeans? The sleeveless top? No. She hates her arms. Not the sleeveless.
"I need more [italicized] time," she says.
[More bold.] Victor Delamonte is one of those voices.
A wealthy man in his mid-eighties, he sits in a doctor's office. His wife sits beside him. White paper covers an exam table.
The doctor speaks softly. "There's not much we can do," he says. Months of treatment have not worked. The tumors. The kidneys.
Victor's wife tries to speak, but the words catch. As if sharing the same larynx, Victor clears his throat.
"What Grace wants to ask is... how much more [italics, as if his readers are too stupid to understand exactly what he's trying to do in this shittiest of all opening chapters, which they probably are, actually] time do I have left?"
[Bold again.] His words--and Sarah's words--drift up to the faraway cave, and the lonesome, bearded man sitting inside it. This man is Father Time.
You might think him a myth, a cartoon from a New Year's card--ancient, haggard, clutching an hourglass, older than anyone on the planet.
But Father Time is real. And, in truth, cannot age. Beneath the unruly beard and cascading hair---signs of life, not death---his body is lean, his skin unwrinkled, immune to the very thing he lords over.
One day, before he angered God, he was just another man, fated to die when his days were done.
Now he has a different fate: banished to this cave, he must listen to the world's every plea---for more minutes, more hours, more years, more [italics] time.
He has been here an eternity. He has given up hope. But a clock ticks for all of us, silently, somewhere. And one is ticking for even him.
Soon Father Time will be free.
To return to Earth.
And finish what he started.
>>8200341
>Tonight at eight-thirty. She recites it excitedly--[italicized] eight-thirty, eight-thirty!
Why do I hurt myself thus
There's a little Scientology office across the street from my house that has an two wall-sized bookshelfs in the front room, one filled entirely with copies of Dianetics, and the other filled with Hubbards sc-fi novels.
>le irony
>>8200418
>le irony
I fail to see the irony of that situation. Unless you are talking about the sci-fi books, but that's appliable to the whole "church".
>>8200308
Of course you haven't, it's not funny at all, it's rather boring.
>>8200433
yea whatever,
nice masonic dubs tho
>>8200072
Hey, who's this guy stealing my idea?!?!
