TOP 50 FAILED CHILDRENS BOOK TITLES

These are just a few of the many would be childrens books that didn’t quite make the cut to your kid’s bookshelf: (** means I can't actually take credit for this one)

1. Little Trailer House on the Prairie
2. Are You There Zeus, It's Me, Margarelon?
3. How the Grinch Stole my Identity
4. Charlie and the Chocolate Sweatshop
5. Are you there Hare Krishna, It's Me, Freedom Moon Child?
6. The Fragmented Hard Drive of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler **
7. How the Mensch Stole Hannukah
8. The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Three Little Pigs
9. Are You There Ishvara, It's Me, Markathasandari?
10. The Bi-Polar Express
11. The Lion, The Witch, and The Ikea Pax/Komplement System* (*This Product Requires Assembly)
12. The Little Engine That Could But Only if It Takes Its Ritalin
13. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rash
14. Is It Red? Is it Yellow? Is It Blue? An Adventure in Pills
15. The Indian in the Ikea AKURUM/RATIONELL System* (*Please call store for availability)
16. Where The Girls Gone Wild Things Are
17. Are You There Bog, It's Me, Magda?
18. Howl's Moving Trailer House
19. Don't Let the Pigeon Run the Federal Emergency Management Agency **
20. Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Call Girl
21. The Bitch of Blackbird Pond
22. Are You there Allah, It's Me, Marqooma
23. Stoned Soup
24. Charlie and the Soylent Green Factory **
25. How I Became a Somali Pirate
26. Best Little Whorehouse on the Prairie
27. The French Kissing Hand
28. If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, You'll Have an Infestation
29. Harold and His Purple Member **
30. Charlotte’s Webcam **
31. Charlie and the Glorious, Productive, Collectivized Armaments Factory **
32. Edith Wharton Hears a Who **
33. Orrin Hatches the Egg
34. Green Ham & Eggs
35. Little Crack House on the Prairie
36. Green Eggs & Spam
37. Charlie and the Meth Factory **
38. Curious George W. Bush
39. The Phantom Tollbooth Attendant **
40. Green Eggs and Other Delicious Environmentalist-themed Vegetarian Dishes **
41. Hop On Naked Pop **
42. Charlie and the Petro-Chemical Factory **
43. The Very Hungry Caterpillar is Going to Eat Your Family **
44. Where the Sidewalk Ends...Because the Infrastructure Money Went to Fund the War in Iraq
45. Charlie and the Cheap Taiwanese Radio Parts Factory **
46. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Sexually Transmitted Disease
47. One Ball Two Ball Red Ball Blue Balls
48. The Velveteen Rabbi **
49. Harry Potter and The Order of Kung Pao Chicken
50. Snow White & the Seven Growth Hormone Deficient Individuals **
    

Do you know of any more Failed Childrens Book Titles? If so, please feel free to add your list to the comments section. Because a mind is a terrible thing and it must be stopped in our lifetime!

Cheers!

SIDECARS ARE FOR BITCHES

Otis, my sort of adopted brother, has a habit of impulse purchasing. No, I don’t mean breath mints, or Ped Eggs, or Pez dispensers in the check-out line; I mean toys. He already has a habit of purchasing expensive radio controlled planes from the hobby shop and wrecking them during fits of boredom. Used to, when he drank, he’d go online and bid on items up for sale on Ebay, then forgot about them. Two weeks later, things like hover crafts, canoes, and kayaks would miraculously show up at his doorstep.

The other day, he talked one of his co-workers out of a Stella Scooter with a sidecar. Ten minutes after he bought it, he wrecked it! But that didn’t stop him. Of course he had to initiate it properly by convincing me I must go for a ride in the sidecar. Man, I’m such a sucker. You'd think the bruises and scars on his body from the wreck the day before would have deterred me. Sadly, no. Despite hearing the little voice inside my head screaming, "Don't get into the scooter! Don't get into the scooter!" with that evil voice reserved for horror movies and situations such as these, I put on the helmet and climbed in. And as you know, “Anyone who rides in that is automatically your bitch,” according to the film Garden State.


Off we went, through the neighborhood, zipping at speeds in excess of twenty-five miles per hour. I don’t know about you, but twenty-five miles per hour in a “suicide machine” translates to sub-light speed when there are small pets and squirrels zipping about the pavement and pot holes lying in wait. Not to mention that Otis has probably used up eight of his nine lives already.

And thus now, Otis, who is just a crazy heterosexual dumbass, has also discovered that his new scooter with the sidecar is so gay that it’s actually a chick magnet! Women actually talk to him now. He’s the cat’s meow. Zipping here, motoring there. And me, well, I’m apparently just Otis’ bitch.