“Bring Us The Head Of The Velveteen Rabbit” is my collection of humorous and sarcastic essays, and as of today it’s available at Amazon.com! You can purchase the e-book in Kindle format for $3.99, and it contains over 80 essays pulled together from the Infinite Monkeys Publishing site, The Whims of Fairness, and totally new material. Plenty of great photo illustrations with snide captions are included as well. This book can be purchased at this Amazon.com link.
For those of the Nook persuasion, “Bring Us The Head Of The Velveteen Rabbit” will be available electronically at Barnes and Noble within a few days!
I’ve completed the text of my upcoming e-book, “Bring Us the Head of the Head of the Velveteen Rabbit: Inspirational Essays on Fear, Failure and Falling on Your Ass.” I expect that it will be available at Amazon by the end of the month and at Barnes and Noble soon after. The book will include 83 sarcastic and timely essays, complete with photo illustrations and snarky captions. Some of essays have already appeared here in my blog and some at Infinite Monkeys Publishing, but a good number have never before been released. Among the favorites and the new pieces are:
I Hate My Brain
The Words of My People
Laughing All the Way to the Grave
Surrendering the Moral High Ground
Just Sex, Religion and Politics? What About the Drugs and the Rock and Roll?
The Least Romantic Man in America
Days of Wine and Mammoths
I Built a Whole Lot of Real Good Nothing
Read This, Or My Goldfish Will Kick Your Ass
Look for a release announcement here before you know it.
Yesterday a news report on the radio terrified me so much that I nearly crashed my car into Wendy’s as I drove by. It was some chilling stuff, and it literally made me forget about every other bad thing that could possibly happen in my life. I was so petrified that I don’t remember the report verbatim, but the reporter was interviewing an expert, and it went something like this:
Reporter: “Doctor, what can you tell us about this threat to our safety?”
Expert: “We’re talking about a neurological condition here. It’s caused by an amoeba swimming up your nose and into your brain.”
“Holy Mother of God!” I think.
Reporter: “That sounds awful. Can this amoeba attack you while you’re just standing around in your house, or does it live somewhere in particular?”
Expert: “No, it generally lives in warm, freshwater lakes and rivers.”
I think, “Okay, I don’t go to the lake that much.”
Expert: “But it’s been known to live in home water systems.”
“I’m never taking another shower! Or drinking water!”
Reporter: “That means that none of us is safe! What does this amoeba do once it attacks you, doctor?”
Expert: “The symptoms to watch out for are fever, headache, and stiffness in the neck.”
I start to breathe again.
Expert: “And then it eats your brain.”
Reporter: “What? It eats your brain?”
Expert: Yes, it takes about two weeks and then your brain is eaten and you die.”
Reporter: “Isn’t there any cure?”
Expert: “Unfortunately, no. Only one infected person in history is known to have survived, and we have no idea why. If the amoeba attacks you, you’re pretty much a goner.”
I think, “This is like a horror movie! Who gives a shit about zombies when we’ve got real amoebas eating our damned brains? Why the hell are we spending money researching cancer and AIDS when these amoebas are stalking us?”
Reporter: “What can we do to protect our children from certain death?”
Expert: “Fortunately, humans are not this amoeba’s preferred prey. They would rather eat some nice, tasty bacteria. So, amoeba attacks on humans are not all that common.”
Reporter: “How many people have been attacked this year?”
Expert: “Well, only three.”
Reporter: “In the city?”
Expert: “No, in the entire country. But they all died.”
Reporter: “Are there precautions we can take to prevent these amoebas from devastating our families?”
Expert: “I’m happy to say that very simple precautions can protect you from the amoebas. The best one is to just hold your nose.”
At this point, in my mind I took over the interview.
Me: “Did you say, ‘Just hold your nose?’”
Expert: “Yes, although I suppose you could get someone else to hold it for you.”
Me: “Isn’t three people a year nation-wide a low success rate for the amoebas? It seems pathetic. Shouldn’t they get into another line of work?”
Expert: “Well, they’re doing their best. I did say that humans are just a sideline for them. I’m sure they do better with bacteria.”
Me: “Doctor, why are you wasting our time with a so-called threat that kills three people a year?”
Expert: “It’s not a waste of time. The amoebas live in warm water. It’s summer, so the water is warm. People should be alerted to the dangers.”
Me: “Isn’t it true that thousands of people die every year for reasons we’re unable to determine at all?”
Expert “Yes, that’s true, but—”
Me: “For all we know, those people could be getting killed by ghosts. Why aren’t you stumping the radio news circuit warning people about the ghost catastrophe?”
Expert: “You don’t have to be that way about it.”
Me: “You’re right. I can’t possibly employ enough sarcasm to make you look more idiotic than you already look.”
Expert: “I don’t have to take this shit. I have an MD and a Ph.D.!”
As the expert slams down his phone in my imagination, I pull into my driveway. All of my normal fears once again cluster around me like drinking buddies. I have standards. I demand high-quality fears, and any piss ant fear like terror of amoebas can just find somebody else to drink with.