You know the kind I’m talking about…the ones with pathetic women, cardboard men, and lots of ensuing idiocy. Now, I like reading real literature as well, but there’s just something so special about the cheap thrill of lowering my IQ points with the made up genre called chick lit.
Honestly though, I think one of the major reasons why I like these kinds of books is that I can be as bitchy to the characters without having to feel terrible about myself [like when I think bitchy thoughts about real life people]. Lately—well, actually for the last few months now, I’m constantly rolling my eyes at even the most random of people going ‘pretentious chump’ ‘fugly loser’ effing idiot’ etc, etc, you get the idea. Now I realize that this is not a good thing because everyone, including myself, has been a pretentious chump, fugly loser, or effing idiot at some point of their lives. In fact, I think I'm going through the fugly loser phase right now...but that's another story for another time. So anyway, I’ve discovered that trashy novels with moronic characters are a great way to get ‘rid’ of one’s aggression so you can be less of an asshole to 'real life' people.
Back to trashy chick-lit books, my all-time-favourite writer award goes to Emily Giffin of Something Borrowed fame—a book that’s kinda reminiscent of the show Sex and the City, but with [even] stupider characters.
What’s the premise you ask? Well, there’s this pathetic [and by pathetic, I mean possibly the biggest loser in the world] woman who is ‘best friends’ with a mean but beautiful and self centred bitch who has the most perfect fiancé in the world. There are points in the book where I wondered whether the fiancé was a human or a robot, and I’m seriously left thinking he was of the latter variety, but for the purposes of this post, let’s presume he’s human.
The man has the personality of a dusty Styrofoam cup and the loser has the personality of the dried coffee in the dusty Styrofoam cup—that leaves us with the mean bitch, the only character in the book with half a brain. The book is narrated by the Loser, who whines throughout it about: how she hates her job, how her beautiful friend has always had it easier in life, and how she should get the robot fiancé because she met him first. So then the Loser starts having incredibly boring sex with the Robot and justifies it by stating that her bimbo friend has always taken everything for herself. All the while, there’s a smirky undertone going ‘ugly girls with no personalities have the inherent right to screw over beautiful women who are bitches.’
Predictably, the novel ends with the Loser and Robot getting together, while the Bitch [who’s gotten pregnant by someone else mind you] finds herself friendless and alone. Now this is better than Jerry Springer—it’s fictional Jerry Springer with non-toothless and less fugly people, set in the backdrop of Manhattan to boot! I enjoyed every minute of laughing at the pathetic loser of a narrator while rolling my eyes at the rest of the characters.
And you know the great part about this book? It has a SEQUEL! It’s the gift that keeps giving people—the sequel, told in the viewpoint of the vapid bitch, does not disappoint! It’s basically the story of how a moron who has just been dumped by her fiancé for her best friend, goes from being a vapid bitch to the mother of the year—all the while, falling in love and getting married. Oh and moving to another country. Makes you go Holy Jesus Christ can the author get any more unrealistic than this [and that’s when you read her other novels]. Seriously, the gift that keeps giving.
But more than the book, I truly get a kick out of reading reviews for them on Amazon. Idiots all over the world describe this atrocity [be it an atrocity of the fun variety] as intelligent. Good lord. I wonder what they’d call stupid. People’s standards scare me sometimes.
Conclusion: Definitely recommend Emily Giffin's books. Unless of course, you're not an effing idiot like me and therefore, do not have time for life's inanities.
lt;/satiregt;
Conclusion: Definitely recommend Emily Giffin's books. Unless of course, you're not an effing idiot like me and therefore, do not have time for life's inanities.
lt;/satiregt;
End Note: My parents are really liking India, they're super impressed!
