Maybe if you had a couple of drinks first.

Yeah, the last 45 minutes are pretty unsettling:
"Hey, don't blow up all these places!"
"You said you'd say that. Now we take your balls."
"What??"

Oh, I agree. I mean, I've read it three times. But - and I think we're effectively saying the same thing here - I think it's a well-written, well-paced little novel with some interesting things to say, but it's not a manifesto or guide for living or anything like that, and the people who have taken such a viewpoint on…

Fight Club taught me to make napalm, too, which is nothing to sneeze at.

Sure, but I don't think there's anything all that bizarre about having a little space in your house or apartment that's reserved for you and a little space reserved for your SO. Being in a committed relationship doesn't mean you meld. (That said, I think the whole "mancave" thing is not-so-subtlely connected to the…

This is the truth.

Don't I know it.

"People threw up at my reading!"
"Yeah, because you read the story about a dude biting through his own intestines and the Cacophony Society showed up and threw rotten crabmeat around."
"Right!"

Ve haff vayz uff making you into znnnowwwflakes.

Anyone want my circa-2000 "Von Chuck" promo hat?

Runk fock.

I enjoyed it. But it's not some profound philosophical statement.

My balls are getting pinched!

I'm sure that's it. Man.

I read it in about two hours, personally.

Those people need a mug of warm cocoa and a long nap.

But I just like to hang out with all you greasy motherfuckers. The articles are vague errata to me. (Unless O'Neal wrote it.)

YES

Clint. Monkey. Beer. Fistfights.

You fuckin' schwantz.