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December 2013

You Can’t Spell Fun Without the F and the U

18090472

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WARNING – This book contains sexually explicit material, moderate and modernised drug use, and violence towards any living being with two legs, arms are not required. If this book were an animal it would be a chicken, a pound of fluff, 69 square inches of exposed skin when plucked, three pounds of inner skeleton, and a half ounce of heart, for anyone looking for a spiritual awakening I advise you look elsewhere. This book is honesty to a fault, hard-hitting like headboards on an abstinant married couples wedding night, no holding back, no reservations, no holds barred pure entertainment. This is a story of reoccurring relationship foibles where sexuality and inevitable disappointment are at the forefront.

I received an email from the author Wendi Bear out of the blue, thanking me for my interest in her book and asked me if I would like a PDF. In her email she seemed so sweet, so nurturing, and giving, kind of like a mama bird chewing worms for her incompetent and obnoxious baby birds that I couldn’t say no and I accepted the offer. I was a tad bit scared because I had no memory of her book and was wondering what in the hell I was getting myself into. Was it one of those spiritual books I tend to show interest in after a few glasses of some robust, dry red? Or was it one of the few times I thought I should give paranormal romances a chance? Lucky for me and my penchant for the absurd this book was right up my alley. It truly was quite funny, to go from one tone of voice in the email to that of “all men are disgusting jack offs” found within the opening pages of the book was honestly…quite sexy.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but in my PDF there were a lot of bolded parts of sentences making it seem like it was some sort of ancient code breaker. Being the Christmas season it was like a twisted “Christmas Story” scene where if the message was deciphered I would be permitted to the author’s alternate reality. For the record I wrote it all down;)

“I am the biggest, drunken asshole that ever lived.” That is kind of the running theme throughout the book

It was hard to write a cohesive review for this book so here are some of my points of interest.

*How can a sexually explicit gag gift given among friends and family on the day Jesus was born go so wrong.

*Passing off alcohol infused lactations as that of a new concoction called Mama Milk Mojitos. To any opportunists out there, I patented the name first.

*I am familiar with kids and their squirt guns but the the thought of drunk girls and their milk guns is a new one for me.

spraying breast milk

*Newly realized **** hungry cougar with a botched boob job hunts for young prey and finds herself a willing combatant despite the whiny reminder of John Mayer in the background. Plain yogurt may not be on the shopping list for a few weeks after this encounter.

*One would think that dudes with no money and small peninsulas would be a little more considerate to a woman’s feelings. I mean what gives them the right to be assholes.

*Spirit Gum story was interesting

*First real trace of heart in the book was from the story “Children Go To Hell.” This story elicited real sadness for the young girl and an urge for violence towards the parents for what they put the child through. They were truly ungrateful for the generosity shown by the church. Tweasers and exposed private regions seems like a just punishment.

*Funny how she hung out with elder-drink enthusiast Shelly because her drunken debauchery made her look innocent. Kind of reminiscent of the fat chick that goes to bars with her more rotund friends in order to increase her chances of getting laid.

“I’d love to give you more details, but like I said before, these experiences are
precious to me. They are mine because I love him. Plus, I was a little drunk.
I only saw him once after that.”

*Super gluing a dude’s junk to his leg and arousing him puts another one on the scoreboard for the Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned team, or is it the Idle Minds Is A Devil’s Workshop, either way they’re both applicable.

* The Russian Aesthetics Instructor’s exchange with her students about the peculiarities of the vagina was quite entertaining and funny.

“Deb vagina is STUPID! When I touch deb vagina it gets wet. It tinks I’m a man!
First we must powda’ deb vagina to dry it out.”

* The story of Margarita brought back memories of my own dog Morgan. Like Rita, my pup was adopted from a pet store at 2 years old, she was Staffordshire Terrier and Labrador mix, malnourished, equally retarded, and had the knack for security as that of a rent-a-cop at a predominately white residing suburban plaza. She was so messed up that when the weather got bad and rain fell she was cheating death or at least cardiac arrest by panting and drooling enough saliva to drown a cockroach, hey I guess she was good for something. In spite of all that noise I love and miss my Morgan very much.

*All the crazy names of characters made me feel like I was watching a bad episode of Honey Boo Boo Child

*Last but certainly not least, I would be remissed if I did not mention the zombie hand job, checkmark off the sexual deviant bucket list. Tell me, what is their left to achieve?… Seriously tell me!!!

*I am curious what edible term of endearment she would give me if I had the pleasure. If I had it my way it would be Banana Nut Crunch.

To the author if you are ever in or around the Toronto area, don’t be hesitant to look me up and give me a shout because I am sure to disappoint;)

This book is not recommended for any God fearing individuals, people whose moral compass points northwards, and for people whose self-esteem cup floweth over. All other unseemly cretins gain entry
into one of the more low-brow, provocative, pieces of trash you may read for a while. With all due respect.

th (10)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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