I know that people will endlessly talk about Jennifer Aniston’s hair, but any opportunity I can get to highlight something other than her, er, highlights, like her majorly-underrated comedic timing, I’ll take:

This is brilliant.

I am a white man! I read a ton of stuff! But if I read a book that starts...

“You found me?! Good.”

Be glad you don’t live in Oklahoma where these people are trying to infiltrate our public schools, and having a good deal of success at it too.

THANK YOU FOR THIS MADELEINE. I have hated Freedom since I read it a few months ago. I have told everyone who will listen of my hate for it. I even wished, in my heart, that someone would write this exact editorial, since I did not have the platform for it, so reading this was like having a tiny angel land on my…

YES. Here I am, worried that my plot is contrived or my dialogue unbelievable or my characters one-dimensional.

DON’T EVER WORRY AGAIN.

Feels good....like a bag of sand.

I READ THAT. IT WAS THE WORST. He fucking managed to objectify a woman who’s been dead since 1937.

I cannot believe how much acclaim he gets! I mean, I know it’s because he’s a pompous middle-aged straight white yuppie man and the literary world (much like Connie in her fantasies) eats that shit up, but, like, there is no shortage of pompous middle-aged straight white yuppie men writing books. Can’t they find…

THANK YOU.

Is it all, "Any port in a storm, amirite?"

My clitoris is the least discerning thing about me.

Me, literally the whole time reading this:

HE DIDN’T?

What. What is this shit. This sounds like a horror story.

I’ve said this before, but my disdain for Franzen became burning hatred when he wrote that NEw Yorker article about how Edith Wharton would have been a better writer if more men had wanted to fuck her. I still can’t believe more people didn’t call him out for that. Edith Wharton is 1000x the writer he will ever be.…

Franzen is a shit writer. I never understood what all the hype was about with that guy. He’s not even good enough to be considered a hack. Shitty plots, fair-to-middling characterizations, and dialogue so stilted, even the circus wouldn’t accept it. Shut up, Franzen.

While Freedom was appropriately nominated for the Bad Sex in Fiction Award for 2010, it was somehow beaten out by The End of Sleep, which included this gem: