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April 3, 2003 This is the only one that doesn't include inside jokes. The picture is really the best part, even more so now that it's in color. My dad isn't really like this, but I'm sure he'll agree with at least some of the things I had him say.
Book Review: 'Holy Crap! I'm Freakin' Wonderful!' by Paul Ryan
The inside of the book is even more horrific, if such a feat is possible. Never has anyone published such a dull-witted, tedious, poorly-written collection of crude grammar and fragmented sentences. Take this passage, for instance: "What a wonderful day it is for me when I am me. A component like me is so perpendicular to having a good day." "Perpendicular". Simply stunning. Some of you people might think I'm being a little harsh. While I doubt that's true, just to be safe, I'll spend the next two paragraphs offering suggestions instead of criticism. In fact, I'll start every sentence with the word "perhaps", just to be sure. Perhaps I would have had more of a chance to get interested in my son's book if it were more than five and a half pages long. Perhaps I would have had a better attitude about the book if it weren't hand-written on college-ruled notebook paper. Perhaps I would have been less annoyed if the fringes of the notebook paper had been cut off with scissors, and not left for the reader to deal with on their own. Perhaps I would have been more impressed if the children's-book-style cover didn't have mild vulgarities spread across the top in large lettering. Perhaps the copy of the book sent to me would have looked more professional if someone hadn't spilled coffee all over pages two and three, making large amounts of text unreadable. My favorite part of the book was the sentence on page three that points the reader to "this totally cool drawing" on page four. There is no drawing on page four. If there were, I'm sure it would have been just as disappointing and embarrassing as the multiple times in the book where he refers the reader back to the table of contents to remind them what chapter they're reading. The table of contents, of course, is non-existent, Here's another highly-quotable passage, where he tries to account for his obvious lack of friends: "When I was a kid, sometimes I was so freakin' wonderful that I thought about why I should hang out and play with other people, when I can just go play with myself." We could have just printed the entire book, and let you see for yourself how bad it ism but trust me: reading this book is not something you want to do. In closing, I'd like to see a few things added to my son's book: a chapter recalling how he cried every time he went to the dentist's office until the age of 11, a chapter recalling the hundreds of times he cried after striking out in little league, and a chapter recalling the time I caught him standing on his desk in his room, pretending to sing a Beach Boys song. Without those memories, this book does not give a true representation of my son.
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Let's start from the outside in. Some may be amused by the cover of the book. As humorous as it looks, I assure you that there was no humor intended when this cover was created. All the rainbows and castles in the background are what he considers to be art, while the rest of us consider it to be a ripoff of the 80s cartoon, "Rainbow Brite." But he takes this book cover very seriously, which makes it that much more pathetic. I can also assure you that the moronic, stupefied look on my son's face is not an act; he always looks like that. He's an idiot.
