| a work of very serious literature |
[Jul. 26th, 2007|12:03 am] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| | kind of freaked out, actually. | ] |
If you have ever been concerned about the embarrassment of reading Harry Potter in public (and, let's face it, if you're reading this journal you really, really haven't, but let's pretend), pointlesswasteoftime.com supplies some alternate covers so you can keep your manly dignity. They are all in terrible taste and I laughed until I couldn't breathe. Definitely nsfw. (although I'm posting this near midnight, so if any of you are at work right now you should probably get another job. They shouldn't have you working at midnight; that's cruel. Unless you work the nightshift. Or are in Australia. Which some of you are, so never mind.)
While poking around the aforementioned website, I stumbled accross John Dies at the End. Based on the rest of the site I'd assumed it would be a short, probably rather obscene parody. In fact, it's a horror novel. It's a pretty fucking good horror novel- nasty and dark and with a sick sense of humor and also just a lot of sense of sick. The best way I can describe it is that it's like a novelized version of a Heiroymus Bosch painting, only with more swearing and flamethrowers. I'm enjoying it immensely, in the way that one enjoys the sort of story about things that come from hell and don't go away, ie, vaguely ill but completely captivated. If you have a strong stomach and like that sort of thing, you might want to read it. (Chelsea: do not read this. I am serious. You will not like it.) Although I'm only part-way through, so maybe halfway through it starts sucking; I don't know. Don't blame me for that, if it does. (Anything before chapter ten you can blame me for- that's how far I've read. Just don't spoil the ending for me.) |
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