This is a good idea in theory, but the book choice is totally wrong. See, in Texas, you’re issued a flask at birth, so there’s never any need to hide it. The hospital puts it in a care package with your six-shooter, your future trophy wife and your inflated ego. Then they wrap you up in swaddling chaps, plop you in your Mama’s arms, and send you out into the big, bad world to flourish, secede, and die early of barbeque sauce-related heart disease.

This post is like the Doublemint Twins of BHG. Except you don’t want to tittyfuck it. (Or do you?!?) Up for grabs we have two items illustrated by Oliver Jeffers…

1. A hand-drawn map of the world and some pushpins. (Yay. Holes.)

2. A book called, “The Incredible Book Eating Boy.” (Let’s crap words!!)

via swissmiss

Did any of you knuckleheads read Wait Till Helen Comes when you were little? Remember how fucking terrifying that book was for kids? Ghosts? Drowning? Spooky churches? Anyway, I bring it up because this print is almost exactly how I pictured horrifying, murdery ghost Helen in that book, and it pretty much ruined me for life. So, see, you can’t blame my evil on my upbringing. You can only blame it on my advanced reading skills and desire for knowledge.

Smoking is extremely glamorous, but reading is for losers. Luckily, some genius shrunk down a bunch of literary classics and packaged them in cigarette packs. They totally save you the embarrassment of people thinking you use your brain for icky things like learning.  Duh, you should only use it to think up really cool ways to get cancer and die while you’re still young and oh-so-sexy. Man, I’m totally gonna bone your corpse.

Fishbowls are extremely depressing. Every gynecologist I’ve ever had, however, has functioned under the impression that they’re a calming agent. Guess what, gynie? A fishtank in the waiting room doesn’t soothe my nerves. It makes me have to pee, which is really unpleasant when you’re about to shove cold metal up my parts.

But I digress. These fish bowl bookends should be cute, but really they’re just sad, because the poor fish are trapped in a tiny, watery prison cell with a giant window to your embarrassing reading choices. Spending his life swimming around next to A Night Without Armor: Poems by Jewel is pretty much a fate worse than death.

Turns out The Situation is a little bit of a dog fucker. This, of course, is the fruit of his shrunken steroid balls. Turn ons include…pomeranians, fist fights and Chicken Parm.

Wait androgynous fucking hispter! Where are you going? To brag about your new fancy design books? No need, the Slim Shelf is doing the job for you. It displays your books cover-out so everyone knows you’re better than them. How could you not be? Your reading something by Banksy. Now you’ll have even more time to masturbate your ego and rub up against your iPhone. Woohoo. Vibrate Mode!

Bible quotes, motivational things, paperclips and wiry pubes can all be used as bookmarks, but in my opinion this is the only one that counts. Fuck yes, Book Hook.

via ShareSomeCandy

If I treated humans half as well as I treat my cat, I’d have a lot less death threats. But until that day comes I’ll continue to employ decoy me’s to distract snipers and, of course, long for this insanely cute bookshelf/dog/cat/cozy home.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful, obscene princess named Tracy Sunrize Johnson who used her magical computer to explore the world that exists outside of her hangover. One day, while trolling the pits of internet Hell, she fell in e-love with an evil witch named Krista. The obscene princess and the witch formed a co-dependent friendship that involved much Scratching of Each Other’s Backs.

Tracy Sunrize Johnson sent her new life partner a care package (including a love letter of epic proportions, with sentiments like “You thought this day would never come, but who feels like a fucking jerk now?” and “Hope you’re well, or at least avoiding the swine flu/clap.”) filled with books for their as-yet-unborn children, and Krista the Evil Witch told her faithful readership about the awesomeness of said books, and also of Tracy’s Mad Magical Design And Et Cetera Skillz.

Then one day, Evil Witch Krista got tired of typing in fairy tale format, and instead decided to just post pictures of her cats reading and/or eating the books. So, that’s this part.

Here is three-legged Mae Crashenburn, learning how to slice you up with her words instead of just her claws by reading  L is for Lollygag.

And here is fifteen-pound fatty Ruby A-Go-Go eating the cuteness of  The Kittens of Boxville, because she’s also kind of Jordan Cat-alano. (She can’t read, dig?).

And then this is the end. The End.