Would you want to read this book/author?
Honestly, seriously…I’m fishing for honesty. I have thick skin.
Suggestions, criticism, opinions are welcomed, encouraged and NEEDED!!! This is rough, and I’ve written and rewritten so many times I’m cross-eyed.
As a self-deprecating recovering alcoholic, I often wear a very tight tee-shirt emblazoned with a bulls-eye, the fabric of which is woven from a magical blend of inappropriate humor, poor choices, filter-less living, empirical wit, and irreverent sarcasm typically resulting in the warm joy of tears running down your legs.
The Monkey’s Off My Back But The Circus Is Still In Town is a collection of comedic short essays. Every morning as I kick my feet up on my leather ottoman and take my first sip of freshly pressed dark roasted coffee, I experience a deep gratitude, akin to that of a distended bellied third-world child who has just gotten his monthly bowl of rice. On the days I’m not feeling quite so humble and empathetic, I’ve learned to pick myself up by riding around Wal-Mart in a motorized scooter, filling the basket with exercise equipment and high-heels while smiling like a retard at a water park and swinging my legs off the sides. The disgusted looks I receive as I cruise by are a pretty awesome substitute for antidepressants. Sometimes my kids yell at me for using bad words and then they try to use them themselves. Sometimes I make Hot Sauce Popsicles For Disobedient Children. As a direct result of poor decision-making, my insight will undoubtedly save the single women of the world some serious time and agony by presenting them with the valuable cliff-notes of my personal misfortune. To illustrate this point, there is a 99% probability rate that if a guy shows up for a first date in a golf shoes, that he will order an O’Doul’s, talk a lot about “the back nine” and his “fucking ex-wife”, take 12 phone calls, have a blow and go installed in his Lexus, like a finger in his ass and ejaculate prematurely. To the women of the world, I say “You’re Welcome.”
My stories are 100% true, self-narrated encounters, unbelievable occurrences, and opinionated observations that have taken place throughout my 41 years, 28 of which were peppered with highly functioning alcohol and drug abuse. I got sober November 9, 2011, the fog lifted, and I began vomiting my life. Now when someone asks if they can buy me a drink, I just say, “no but I’ll take the 8 bucks”, like I learned in finishing school. As an ego-maniac with an inferiority complex, the best way to describe my writing style would be this: If Chelsea Handler and Jenny McCarthy had a baby with the semen procured from David Sedaris, whom Augusten Burroughs raised, I would be that fucked up baby. Right there’s my target audience.
Sincere thanks for your time and consideration. I’ve included an outline, table of contents, and sample chapters for your review. I’ll be waiting around like a meth-head in a standing still contest for your reply.