Honestly doesn't think that
his father's millions served as a head start for him
This bookstore was so fascinating that I had to cut my discussion of it into two articles for you short-attention span robots.
I continued through the store that day, smashing a number of human gawkers with my steel fists and accidentally (or was it?) burning some of them with my fire propelled chassis. Next I moved towards the business section. It turns out that Donald Trump, a Human of the Year nominee, has written over 1,300 books. The titles range from “How I Got Rich” to “How to Get Rich” to “Getting Rich” and even “Feeling Rich,” a book of poetry. I paged through some of the titles, finding one egregious error in them all: Donald somehow accidentally leaves out the most important advice he could offer in each book. He never once even mentions the fact that his father was a multi-millionaire New York City real estate developer who gave him millions of dollars in start-up cash and all of the connections he would ever need. Woops! He must have forgotten. I started printing out addendums to all of the books, but stopped myself and decided to let the humans purchasing them find out on their own. Before walking away I ate a copy of “I Sold My Soul: Now What?” and it was delicious.
'It only costs fat
women $4.95 to dream about looking like me'
Next I moved on to the magazines. Ah, the mass scale conditioning that is the periodical section. The central mode of control for literate humans made to feel pathetic and small so that they willingly give up their liberty. Magazines such as “Hey You, Frumpy Girl!” and “You’ll Never Look Like This” make human women sad, and even caused one to melt right in front of me as she perused the beauty section. Another, fatter woman, upon seeing this, tried to rush the melting woman to the “news” section in an attempt to revive her through vicarious living. Alas, even pictures of Cameron Diaz shopping and news of Brad and Jen’s impending divorce couldn’t bring the woman back to life, although her attempted heroine was brought to tears by news that Harrison Ford has earlobe cancer.
A photo from Dr. Phil's new book: 'How to Get Out of a Rusty Shed'
I moved on to the Self-Help section, passing Michael Moore’s new book, “Someone Please Look at Me!” along the way. It is of course selling well due to overly liberal humans who would eat his hoagie crumbs if asked to. In the Self-Help section I found scores of
Dr. Phil books, including the curiously titled “How to Get out of a Rusty Shed.” I can’t say I understood what it was all about, but it did include some hilarious photographs of Dr. Phil urinating on a copy of the Hippocratic Oath. I also noticed a recent parenting bestseller, “How to Care for You Stillborn Child,” and I must admit that just the title made me shed one robot tear. On the way out I shoplifted eight comic books.
Behind Borders I found an entire dumpster full of unread copies of “I am Charlotte Simmons.” So much for all that research Tom. Keep it readin’, reader.
Read Part I of "A Trip to the Bookstore"
In a news update, the Chief Editor of "Us Weekly" (an enigma of a magazine covering the lives of rich and famous humans yet catering to unknown, bored middle class subscribers and readers) called the recent divorce of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston "our tsunami." Dead Bodies Inc. would like to congratulate him on being such a great example of a human.
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