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378 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2007
"Something coming back from the dead was almost always bad news. Movies taught me that. For every one Jesus you get a million zombies."...see what I mean.
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"And watch out for Molly. See if she does anything unusual. There’s something I don’t trust about the way she exploded and then came back from the dead like that."
From day one it was like society was this violent, complicated dance and everybody had taken lessons but me. Knocked to the floor again, climbing to my feet each time, bloody and humiliated. Always met with disapproving faces, waiting for me to leave so I'd stop fucking up the party.AND later...
The wanted to push me outside, where the freaks huddled in the cold. Out there with the misfits, the broken, the glazed-eye types who can only watch as the normals enjoy their shiny new cars and careers and marriages and vacations with the kids.
The freaks spend their lives shambling around, wondering how they got left out, mumbling about conspiracy theories and bigfoot sightings. Their encounters with the world are marked by awkward conversations and stifled laughter, hidden smirks and rolled eyes. And worst of all, pity.
And no one cares. You kick and scream and cry out in the darkness and no answer comes. You rage against the unfathomable injustice and two blocks away some guy watches a baseball game and scratches his balls.Well these two guys discover that a new drug called "soy sauce" has allowed/forced them to see into an alternative reality/parallel dimension where nasty, evil things with a good sense of humor are looking to take over (See above picture of a Roach-Man from the upcoming movie version). Well from the moment they experience the sauce, bizarroness and a mayhem-o-rama ensues. And I didn't stop laughing until the end.
Scientists talk about dark matter, the invisible, mysterious substance that occupies the space between stars. Dark Matter makes up 99.99 percent of the universe and they don't know what it is. Well I know. It's apathy. That's the truth of it. Pile together everything we know and care about in the universe and it will still be nothing more than a tiny speck in the middle of a vast black ocean of Who Gives A Fuck.
“No, no. Keep driving,” said a soft voice in my ear. “She will not bite if you keep driving.” Fuck that. Fuck that idea like the captain of the Thai Fuck Team fucking at the fucking Tour de Fuck.However, other than a few understandable meltdowns (like when confronted by cockroach-man assassins), they simply attend to the matters at hand…no matter how batshit crazy things get ("There was a sound like a garbage bag of pudding dropped off a tall building onto a sidewalk. Robert had erupted, chunks slapping off the walls in every direction.")…UH, I did say it was gross didn't I?
"Somebody said my name, asked if I was okay. I didn't answer, the sound of the commotion dying around me as the heavy monkey of sleep rested its warm, furry ass on my eyelids."Come on, now that is just funny.