Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes? More Like Crap, Garbage, Trash and Filth

A Review of: Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes by Annie Kubler

I’m surprised to find so many positive reviews for this book. Not only did I not find this book well-written or informative, but downright offensive. I have just one question for the author: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

For many years I have nursed my baby and fed him mushed peas carrots and whatnot and for many years he has thanked me in several different ways, i.e. saying “thanks” or just saying “hey, thanks” or what have you. But when I gave this book to my precious little baby he did NOT thank me at all. Instead, do you know what he said to me? He said “don’t you think I’m a little too old for this?” And I said to him, “Is 12 years old too old?” And he then said “Yes.”

Can you BELIEVE that!? It makes me SICK to think that this book is not smart enough for my little bouncy baby. I am feeling so sick also because I have been eating nothing but Truvia sweetener for the passed couple of weeks. I’m on the “Truvia diet”. It seems to be working pretty well so far but I don’t know, I find myself getting irritated and snapping at the slightest little things.

Like the other day, I was in this tiny life-raft (don’t ask me how I ended up in that situation) and this guy who was sitting across from me says to me “oh hey, do you think we’ll ever see out families again?” I mean, really this guy was such a jerk. How could he ask me such a thing? I said to him “First of all, I do NOT like the way you look. Second, who are you and how did I end up in this life-raft?”

I was SOO mad. But you know what?  We all live and learn and sometimes we realize that eating artificial sweetener as a meal-replacement maybe isn’t the best thing for us.

You see? This is the kind of stuff that should have been in this book. Life lessons. Not some over-simplified gobbledygook about identifying your body parts. Who needs it? I say the author should have written a book about a guy who loses his family in a car accident and then spends the entire book trying to devise a way to travel back in time in order to prevent the tragedy from ever occurring while also trying not to alter the future too much as per the advice of a brainiac professor. Now THAT would be a book. And it would teach our children about loss and that no matter what you should never accept loss and instead you should grasp desperately at an impossible and fantastic solution to bring back your dead loved ones. It will also teach them about character development and time travel.

Hopefully one day the author of this book will find a way to travel back in time and keep this book from ever having been published. zero stars.



A Review of:  The Slippery Art of Book Reviewing by Mayra Calvani, Anne K. Edwards

I ordered this book because I thought it was a book about the migratory behaviors of teen-aged geese.  But instead it was just a book about book reviews.  In any case, I read it and it stunk, big time.  I give it 2 stars.  The only reason I didn’t give it zero stars is because I didn’t want it to think I was affected by it in anyway.  I figure if my rating is more neutral and sort of “neither here nor there” than the book won’t get a big head and think that it taught me anything.  Actually the book pretty much said not to make any grandiose claims.

So maybe I will make some claims like that right here and now.  I’ve already said the book stunk big time, that’s pretty grandiose.  Let me also add that this book stabbed my wife seventeen times in the chest with a hunting knife.  Also, when I turned around to get something off of the shelf, this book pushed the shelf onto me.  I was trapped under it for several hours until finally I managed to dislocate my arm and claw my way to out.  And after that, the book tried to strangle me with a piano wire.  I struggled for a few minutes and managed to get my hand between the piano wire and my throat.

I flung the book over my shoulder and through a glass coffee table, which made a loud crashing sound and sent shards of glass all over.  And then the book lay there, still.  Blood was running down it’s face and neck.  Shards of jagged glass jutted out from it’s dust jacket.  Everything was quiet.  A little too quiet perhaps, because as soon as I convinced myself the book was dead and the nightmare was finally over, it crept up slowly behind me while I caught my breath, unknowingly.

And just as it was about to bludgeon me with a fireplace poker, I caught the book’s shadow on the wall in front of me and since I knew it was coming, I took a piece of broken off glass in my hand and just moments before the book came down on me with his weapon, I quickly turned around and plunged the shard of glass into the book’s eye.  Its eye burst, sending puss and blood all over the carpet and wall, staining what was once a pristine and safe home into one tainted by this book’s darkness and evil.

Anyway, not so good.  I wouldn’t recommend.

Excuse Me! promises a lot but delivers little…

When i ordered this book online, I couldn’t have been more excited. Finally, a real book that deals with REAL issues. Excuse Me! promised an unflinching exploration of the human condition and the intricacies of modern life.  Sadly, I was not impressed. In fact, only the first page dealt with these aforementioned issues and the rest of the book, well, let’s just say it was so one-dimensional a child could appreciate it. Belching and flatulence abounds.

Karen Katz, who has put out such titles as “Counting Kisses” and “No Biting” must have succumbed to publishing pressures here with a breathtakingly sophomoric piece of drivel. She may as well have written this book on her one hour commute to work. And 14 pages? Ms. Katz could have easily condensed her needless, seemingly endless descents into self-indulgent, anachronistic, hate-filled, borderline xenophobic rants and saved her audience the 5 minutes it took to read this book (not to mention be intellectually molested by it).

What bugs me the most though is that Excuse Me! not only soils the minds of it’s readers (victims?) but that upon it’s cover is a shockingly distasteful depiction of a baby with a head much, much too large for it’s body. Not only would I not recommend this crude, plebian piece of “literature” but I would suggest ordering it just to throw it directly in the garbage can. Perhaps Karen’s next book will offend it’s readers to the point of her subsequent imprisonment. I’m a firm supporter of first amendment rights, but in the case of Excuse Me! perhaps we should re-consider puritanism. Disgusting.

Little women is not a book about capsule-sized ladies who procreate with regular-sized men and eventually turn the world small

When I was little my friend John and I wrote this story about a group of aliens with cool haircuts that basically rode around the universe in a space-ship/guitar while fighting giant laser-beam shooting insects. I’d be surprised to find out the story itself went anywhere beyond that (lack of character development). We eventually got bored and decided to play Double Dragon II for the rest of the afternoon.

The reason I mention this is because what I really wish we’d written instead was a story about a colony of capsule-sized women who draw in lots of regular sized men with whom they procreate (somehow) and eventually the entire population of the world is extra small. I would have called the story “Small World” or “Tiny Ladies.” Of course, I never completed (or started for that matter) writing “Tiny Ladies”. So you can imagine how excited I was when I found that there was indeed a book whose title seemed strikingly reflective of my idea. Well, let me tell you something, this was a bit of a disappointment.

Little Women was NOT a book about a colony of capsule-sized women who draw in and procreate with regular sized men and eventually the entire population of the world is extra small. In fact, it wasn’t that at all. To tell you the truth, I’m not even really sure what the book was about because I was too busy fantasizing about my idea throughout the whole thing.

You know how you can sometimes be reading something and realize, about 2 or 3 pages later that you’ve been daydreaming about something funny that happened earlier that day and haven’t been paying attention the entire time? Well, that is what happened to me while reading this book, only it lasted the entire duration of the book and there was no moment when I realized I hadn’t been paying attention. Or perhaps I had realized, but chose to do nothing about it.

If this book was about a colony of capsule-sized women who eventually turn the entire world extra small, then I would hope the main character of the book would be a man who was drawn to a very charming young woman named possibly “Jesabelle” or “Delila” and she had a southern accent maybe and all. And the whole time he is sort of writing in his journal and what-have-you and just sort of laying about like in an F.Scott Fitzgerald novel. Only what he doesn’t realize is that soon the entire population of the world will all be able to stand on the heads of pins and that everything will have to drastically change. Like desks will all be much tinier and houses will all be a lot cuter (only no one will be big enough to appreciate the cuteness). And of course there will be lots of issues like the fact that all the animals will be able to swallow everyone up very easily such as housecats and the like and so people will probably have to start miniaturizing their pets. But the moral of the story would be that isn’t it funny that everyone is now super tiny?

The concept itself doesn’t really hold up, I realize. I mean how could a handful of people turn the whole world into something? Doesn’t make much sense. But of course, at the time I was a kid and kids are stupid. So, I guess you can try this book out but don’t expect any nonsense about a colony of barely visible, super teensy ladies who have babies with regular sized men and turn the world extra small.

Moby-Dick is not a good book for people who can’t read good

Hi. First of all, let me say thank you for choosing my review over all the others. I know you are a busy person and have a rather dizzying schedule of doing this and going there and having this and that for a snack. So, all the more appreciative this makes me to think that you have chosen my review, over all the others, to read and love and consider before purchasing the item of which I am reviewing.

Furthermore, let’s say I was reviewing, say, a set of ballpoint pens produced by a company like Bic or Papermate, I’m sure you would also have chosen my review. Or perhaps not. Maybe instead of choosing my review of this rather commonplace item (ballpoint pens) you would have possibly chosen someone else’s review. Well. Let me just say, sorry. I’m sorry my hypothetical review of Bic’s set of inky blue ballpoint pens (valued at $.95) was not GOOD enough for you. I’m sorry you feel that my review of Bic’s medium point, .1 mm blue ballpoint pen was possibly incomplete or unfairly negative. Or maybe you thought it was too positive? Maybe you are the kind of person who intentionally seeks out negative reviews of all kinds just to make yourself feel better about your OWN drawbacks as a person.

Fine. Just fine. You don’t have to like my review of Bic’s medium point, small point or LARGE point blue inky ballpoint pens, for that matter. Nobody is twisting your little arm telling you “SO-AND-SO, you better LIKE that man’s review of those Bic’s medium point ballpoint blue inky .1mm set of blue ballpoint pen set”… SO. Here we are.

But the fact of the matter is that you did not read my review of Bic’s medium point blue inky ballpoint pens, because in fact I did not write a review of Bic’s medium point blue ballpoint inky blue pens. No. In fact, I wrote a review of Herman Melville’s “Moby Dick” or “The Whale” or whatever you want to call it (just don’t call it late for dinner).

So, back to thanking you for choosing my very heart-felt review of this item. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Fellow consumer, you have come to the right place (and the right review) to get your twisted little kicks by hearing about somebody trash Herman’s famous romance novel “Moby Dick and the Whale”. But maybe I won’t stoop to that level. Maybe I don’t want you to have the satisfaction of hearing somebody trash this classic novel. Maybe, in fact, I wrote this one-star review just to get your ATTENTION. Maybe I wanted to attract sick little minds like yours into this review just so I can tell you to SHOVE OFF. Maybe instead of going about your putrid little life, seeking out negativity and getting your rocks off from the slightest bit of cutting-down of much beloved and famous artists, you should do something better with your time.

Maybe. Or maybe not. Actually, perhaps I wrote this review in order to tell you a little secret that I’ve been holding in for a very long time. The secret is: I didn’t read this book. Despite having not read this book, I went around and told everybody I know that I have. In fact, most of the time, upon meeting someone, within the first few minutes of conversation I manage to steer directly into the fact that indeed, I have read Moby Dick. Usually, no one asks follow-up questions. But just in case they do ask questions, I have a back-up. I usually just say, well I must tell you, I won’t even get started, because I could literally talk about this book for one full week without stopping, even for the loo and in fact I have a rare disease where I have to use the bathroom a considerable amount.

After the initial look of discomfort from my newfound acquaintance, the convo usually dies down to mindless chatter about the weather or the kinds of ice cream we prefer. But never back to Moby Dick. So, all these years I’ve been getting away with lying about having read Moby Dick.

Now that you know the truth, do you dislike me as a person? Have I made YOU feel uncomfortable? Or do you feel that you’ve wasted your time on this review? Well, I will TELL you how you feel. You feel happy. Happy to have read this review and happy to have heard my dirty, twisted little secret. I will tell you something, though. YOU haven’t read Moby Dick either. Why else would you be considering buying it? Most people who have read Moby Dick are just happy to have been done with it. I’m sure the majority of people who have read this classic novel/slapstick comedy indeed are overjoyed to have been at it and done with it. I bet they would never want to read even a long-winded review of it. So, there you are. Proof that you have not read Moby Dick, just as I have not read Moby Dick. Maybe you better just forget about Moby Dick entirely and just go have a nap. Maybe a cup of blended celery juice will fix you of the notion of reading Moby Dick. Come to think of it, maybe that would solve my bladder disease.

War and Peace is a book (of this I am 57% certain)


One day as I was stepping out of the shower (not a real shower) my wife handed me a towel and told me to dry my hair. I found this rather strange, especially since my wife isn’t my wife at all but a male person with whom I was meeting for the first time right there and then. What I found in my hand though instead of a towel (although some might think otherwise) was a copy of the Modern Library Classics version of War and Peace. I felt I was somewhat obligated to give a read, since instead of a towel, I had a copy of War and Peace. Had I been given a towel, I naturally would have felt obligated to use it to dry myself. As I am not one for thinking about confusing things (or things at all for that matter) I sat down on the bed (dripping wet) and read War and Peace.

The whole book took about 4 months to get through. Since the book is so long and I am so short, I couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by it. I often feel like that though, when I am around taller people. In fact, this is probably why I never played basketball in high school (everyone else was so short and I was so tall and naturally I didn’t want to put them in the same position as me, feeling so insecure about my height). Anyway, one thing I can say about this book is that it was most certainly a book. Of this I am 57% certain. I know this because inside the cover were pages. Lots of pages. And it wasn’t even just the fact that there were pages, but words on the pages. Sometimes when I think back on things I don’t always remember them very clearly, but yes, these words were words because I read them and when I read words I know they are words.

Now, I don’t mean to turn this into a typical intellectual, content-heavy book review, so I’ll change course and try to be a little more objective. No, in fact I’ll be a lot more objective, because if there is anything I know about books or anything that has anything to do with knowing or thinking, it’s that the things which make us think the most are also the same things which I often find myself thinking about. I also find that a lot of people think this way, because when I talk to them (depending on whether or not they have something sweet to eat) I always end up saying things that I am thinking, and they almost always seem to be saying the things that they are thinking. This is because I think that I know what they are saying just by thinking about what they might be thinking about or saying depending on what they thought.

All in all, War and Peace was something that I read and didn’t not like but I can’t say that this has any bearing on whether or not what you think about it will be the same thing that I, or others (or no one) will think about or say about it. And because it is such a book (and a book at that) I imagine you will probably be impressed by the volume of pages it has (assuming you are impressed by things that are things that they are supposed to be but longer than other things that are the same things that maybe aren’t always so impressive such as a one-page letter unless it was from someone you love and says lots of romantic things in it, in which case I would just read the letter and forget about War and Peace or any other books for that matter and what are you doing reading War and Peace anyway when you have a wife who is writing you romantic letters?)

That said, I would go out and see if I could find an example of War and Peace in the real world before committing to reading about it in the fictional world. This is literature and book and story, not the opposite (i.e. story, book, literature). Keeping that in mind, go ahead and order this book but do not be my guest because I don’t have enough room in my shower for more than one person.