Slow Reader

I hate reading. It’s why I did a book report on the Hobbit three years in a row, read Coles notes and still almost failed every English class because of my obviously terrible, terrible grammar.

I’m a pretty creative guy and I can use my imagination but I rather see something than read it. Take Star Wars. Even Shakespeare couldn’t have wrote anything that compared to the awesomeness of Star Wars.

I always wonder why women read romance novels over renting a porno or chick flick because no amount of descriptive and kinky words could give me a raging hard-on like Bathroom Sluts Part Three. Reading about naked chicks just doesn’t cut it for me.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, than a movie must be like a zillion words. It takes me about ten hours; I’m slow reader, to read a book, whereas it takes me two hours to watch the movie. Plus I can sit down comfortably and eat popcorn and it takes no effort on my part.

If I do have to read a book for school or whatever, I have to read the entire book in one sitting or else I would get lost. I mean why do people read in a city bus or on the treadmill for about five minutes at a time?

It pisses me off how many useless words are needed like ‘“blabla” said Joe, “blablabla” replied Sam, angrily. “Whoa did you see that chick, she was fucking hot! You should have seen her. Words cannot describe her hottability.” said Joe. “Whoa did you see that. It was amazing!” said Sam with amazement.

But I do enjoy reading magazines and webpages. In fact I wish everything was in magazine form. Magazines have pictures and short but juicy words and captions. And for the most part it doesn’t have complicated words like “discombobulate” that I have to guess the meaning of.

I used to have subscriptions to Stuff, FHM and Maxim. I read every word. Sure I glance at the chicks but I don’t buy it because of that, I buy it for the articles. I have the internet and Sears catalog for that, thank you very much. The captions crack me up and I love how they make fun of pretty much every letter they receive.

I also read older Time and National Geographic magazines; I like animals, which my aunt gives us. In fact I saw my first boobs in a National Geographic magazine. And thanks to my early Alzheimer’s I can reread an entire mag after six months while watching TV at the same time. Now that’s multi tasking.

Sometimes I look at those tabloids magazines at the Kiwki mart when I’m buying a slushy. I feel bad about the paparazzi intruding in famous peoples lives, but at the same time I can’t get enough. Such as the latest pictures of now extremely over weight Christina Aguilera or of the hot chick from the Twilight series that cheated on her movie and real life boyfriend.

And sadly when I’m at the dentist or doctors I enjoy reading Cosmo; but only to see into the female psyche. The thing about Cosmo is half of it is advertisements; they are mostly of half naked chicks. I think there are about twenty pages of tampon and conditioner ads before the table of contents.

The funny thing I found out is that those short embarrassing stores totally destroy the fact that girls are far more mature, even though they still are. I think half of them involve farting in front of hotty.

And I guess it’s these magazines that make young impressionable girls feel inadequate and ugly. Now you might say that those girls don’t have to read these magazines and of course ad models are hot because girls want to be hot using that product.

But I think it would hilarious and um positive, to have a magazine full of ugly or inner-hotty chicks. They could have a chick with a million zits with a caption, “Now that’s fucking disgusting, use Clearasil.” I mean I don’t by my boxers because the guy has a six pack.

And on the other hand, I thought of the most evil clothing label deploy, making clothes that only fit hot chicks, meaning that fat chicks can’t wear them even though they so desperately want to.  

And now I going to sit down with a glass of wine with some triscuit crackers and read Clifford the Big Red Dog.