It may surprise you to learn that even at the height of my fame – a golden time when I was so rich that, rather than flush the toilet, I simply bought new ones – that I was also something of a bookworm. All that time spent on film sets could either be filled by having my member gobbled on by some achingly-eager intern (it happened so often that at one point my fleshsock developed a form of trench foot) or getting stuck into some great work of literature. Admittedly, I mainly limited myself to the confessional letters sent in to hard core porno mags or the sleeve notes for my favourite album (‘The Best of Wagner: The Anti-Semite Years’) but sometimes I settled down for an afternoon of Proust, Joyce and Kafka – I say settled down, but I rarely read more than a couple of sentences before stopping for a really vigorous wank.
Anyway, the point is that I know more about literature than you, and in keeping with my philanthropic nature I thought I would provide a summary of some of the great works of the Western canon in order that you don’t have to miss your place in the dole queue and read them yourselves (if we’re honest, there was no chance of that in the first place – you are, without exception, cretinous shits.)
So here are a list of some of my favourite classics, as well as some 'popular' novels you are more likely to have read, summarised for you in just six words.
War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy:
A thousand pages of complete bullshit
Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh:
Scotland revealed as shithole it is
The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne:
Slag and child hide in woods
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown:
Charmless bellends breathlessly dig up Christ
1984 by George Orwell:
Commie moans about perfectly reasonable government
Ulysses by James Joyce:
Incomprehensible Irishman describes wank on beach
The Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart:
Double six equals "lets go raping"
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis:
Lovely gent rightly gets very angry
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald:
Drug dealer (probably bent) gets shot
On the Road by Jack Kerouac:
Jobless hippies save up for fridge
Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote:
Gay gay gay gay gay gay
Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen:
Harlot, sans dildo, forced to marry
Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert:
French reek of onions and cheese
Harry Potter (all of them) by J.K. Rowling:
Pre-pubescent turd clearly not bullied enough
Next time you are drinking lager in one of your pubs, or waiting to be called at another court hearing about your incessant harassment of that girl from the checkout at Sainsbury's, you will be able to talk with authority about a literary world that, until now, has been closed to you. You deserve me.
Yours with paper cuts all over my fingers and ballsack,
Gaylord St. James
Tuesday, 24 March 2009
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