There are many book affectionados who swear they will never come over to the dark side–reading books electronically.
I’m not one of those people.
It took me roughly an hour and a half after charging up my kindle and reading (and highlighting) my first book on there to determine that instant books via Whispernet was the preferred method of reading for me. Oh, sure…you don’t get that comforting “old book smell” from a kindle or a nook. But I can’t say I’ve ever bought a book because I liked the way it smelled.
I recently finished reading Stephen King’s latest novel, 11/22/63 on my kindle. The print version of that book is around 800 pages. Since I usually fall asleep reading, had I been reading the print version, I could very well be writing this post from a hospital bed whilst recovering from a concussion which occurred when I dropped that thing on my head.
There’s a point in there somewhere…
Oh, yes! Digital versus traditional books. While I prefer MOST books in their digital versions, there are some which don’t translate well. The Art of Looking Sideways for example would be a miserable failure as an e-book. And incidentally, if I dropped that book on my head I’d be dead. But I digress…
One such book (which strangely enough is available on kindle) is one I received for Christmas. A charming little picture book entitled Crap at my Parent’s house. Unless your parents were interior decorators with exquisite taste in decorating, I’m fairly sure you will get at least a few mild guffaws out of some of the items in this book.
The crap in this book is categorized by room. Here’s a small sampling of what you will find:
Crap in the Living Room:
Crap in the Dining Room:
Crap in the Kitchen:
Crap in the Bedroom:
Crap in the Home Office:
Crap in the Bathroom:
Crap in the Basement:
And Crap around the Garage:
Many of you know I’m not a fan of clowns. I felt a certain solidarity with others who shared their disdain for them via pictures and captions. If the following samples don’t convince you that clowns are evil, I just don’t know what’s wrong with you…
And my personal favorite:
In conclusion, I’m giving “Crap at my Parents’ House” my ringing endorsement. It’s not exactly Tolstoy, or even Nicholas Sparks for that matter. But it has certainly given me some much welcome laughter. Fair warning: If you’re easily offended, this book probably isn’t for you. Then again, if you were easily offended, I don’t imagine you’d be reading my blog.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have de-cluttering to do…
UPDATE: There’s a website. I should have known: Crap at My Parents’ House