Robert’s answer to “Hey, would you consider adding my Novella "The Carrot Man" to your reading list at "Literary Darkne…” > Likes and Comments
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okay, thx for the answer! Now I know! =)
Did I add my book correctly to the bookshelf?
https://www.goodreads.com/group/show_...
Is there a way I could entice you to take a look at it? Here is page 1:
It smelled of old dust and store-bought pizza. I looked down, and besides my own feet, I saw two giant basketball sneakers the colour of a dead Michael Jackson. Sickly white, like the redneck cracker retard in that Catfish documentary.
I was home.
But I hadn’t seen my room yet. My future roommate came up to the door and just kind of stood there. Eventually, he waved his hand and said “Hi.” in a prepubescent voice, though he was almost 20.
I assessed the situation. This guy had the body of an
overboiled carrot, the personality of a cardboard box, and the intelligence of a cucumber. If I hung around him for long, I’d turn into a zucchini.
I’m sure that in the eyes of his mother he was some
combination of Superman and Captain America; but to
everyone else, he was the reason abortion should be legal.
I did not know this at the time, but this guy was in hardcore
vegetable mode and that was how he spent his life.
His thoughts were trash.
His feelings were trash.
His body was made up of trash because that was all he ate.
If you made a movie about this guy’s life, it wouldn’t be called “Waterworld” because he seldom showered, but it would be called “Trashworld”.
His past, present, and future all sucked. It was written in stone by God himself.
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Theo
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Apr 12, 2018 03:14AM
okay, thx for the answer! Now I know! =)
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Did I add my book correctly to the bookshelf?https://www.goodreads.com/group/show_...
Is there a way I could entice you to take a look at it? Here is page 1:
It smelled of old dust and store-bought pizza. I looked down, and besides my own feet, I saw two giant basketball sneakers the colour of a dead Michael Jackson. Sickly white, like the redneck cracker retard in that Catfish documentary.
I was home.
But I hadn’t seen my room yet. My future roommate came up to the door and just kind of stood there. Eventually, he waved his hand and said “Hi.” in a prepubescent voice, though he was almost 20.
I assessed the situation. This guy had the body of an
overboiled carrot, the personality of a cardboard box, and the intelligence of a cucumber. If I hung around him for long, I’d turn into a zucchini.
I’m sure that in the eyes of his mother he was some
combination of Superman and Captain America; but to
everyone else, he was the reason abortion should be legal.
I did not know this at the time, but this guy was in hardcore
vegetable mode and that was how he spent his life.
His thoughts were trash.
His feelings were trash.
His body was made up of trash because that was all he ate.
If you made a movie about this guy’s life, it wouldn’t be called “Waterworld” because he seldom showered, but it would be called “Trashworld”.
His past, present, and future all sucked. It was written in stone by God himself.
