I had some success with The Savage Detectives: The A.V. Club Edition, in which I replaced the narrator masturbating to a poem with him masturbating to…well, you know.

A huevo.

I just get anal-ogous retentive about the topic.

Metaphors are like similes.

Ambiguous pronouns.

^^^ This guy. Right here.

Cooking? Nice metaphor bro. Let me know when you get serious about them.

This guy, he gets it.

This guy, he gets it.

Hard-drinking identical younger brother, whose callous exterior conceals something like a heart of gold, yes, or maybe something like a permanently delayed resolution (like a Chilean porno that substitutes a lecture by a municipal bureaucrat on the fellowship between Catholicism and the well-ordered state for a proper…

Hard-drinking identical younger brother, whose callous exterior conceals something like a heart of gold, yes, or maybe something like a permanently delayed resolution (like a Chilean porno that substitutes a lecture by a municipal bureaucrat on the fellowship between Catholicism and the well-ordered state for a proper…

Fuck, I got nothin'. Haven't I given you people enough?

Fuck, I got nothin'. Haven't I given you people enough?

Oh, who, little ol' me, well if you say so…

Oh, who, little ol' me, well if you say so…

Aight, you know. Breaking necks, cashing checks, biding my time.

Aight, you know. Breaking necks, cashing checks, biding my time.

I once knew a pop singer who was dismembered while being fellated.
He was born and grew into adolescence in a town (or maybe a hamlet, if one is both a strict advocate of demographic precision and was examining said settlement in the off-season, when its denizens didn't move to other climes so much as they melted into…

I once knew a pop singer who was dismembered while being fellated.
He was born and grew into adolescence in a town (or maybe a hamlet, if one is both a strict advocate of demographic precision and was examining said settlement in the off-season, when its denizens didn't move to other climes so much as they melted into…

Simon och ekarna makes The Leather Mask look like Bifurcaria Bifurcata. You want some Continental literature about (or, on, or, rather, perhaps, if we might speak broadly, concerning) the Second World War, then read some Reiter.