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There just wasn’t a good way to do it. Mom was asking me to resume a friendship that had no honest foundation and ended on screamingly awkward terms. How do you do that? You can’t.
Just to summarize: I lurched into Rachel’s room like a zombie, freaking her out, then went for a fist pound. It is impossible to be less smooth than Greg S. Gaines.
I can’t believe you’re still reading this. You should smack yourself in the face a couple of times right now, just to complete the outstandingly stupid experience that is this book.
One thing I’ve learned about people is that the easiest way to get them to like you is to shut up and let them do the talking.
There was tension in the air. It was a moment of great opportunity, and greater danger. The world was about to change forever. I had beef in my mouth.
as for sports, I mean, come on. It’s some guys throwing some balls around, or trying to knock each other over, and you’re supposed to watch them for three hours at a time, and it just sort of seems like a waste. I dunno. I don’t want to sound condescending, so I’m not going to say anything else, except that it is literally impossible to imagine a thing dumber than sports.
By the time I got to high school, and figured out how to talk to other people a little better, I had decided I didn’t really want to be friends with anyone.
Holy flame-throwing Jesuses. There are definitely kids out there who enjoy being on drugs, but I can promise you that Greg Gaines is not one of them.
It was about the least fun social situation imaginable. If terrorists had burst into the room and tried to suffocate us in hummus, it would have been an improvement.
The answer to your question is on board the S.S. Yes.
The answer to that question was locked in a vault deep within the hull of the Starship Holy Fuck Definitely Not.
You can take pretty much any sentence in this book and if you read it enough times, you will probably end up committing a homicide.
The word “ponce” kind of dominated one of the scenes. It turns out it’s British slang for “child molester.” We thought it was a little fucked up that they had a slang word for that, but then Earl pointed out that in America we say “motherfucker” all the time, which is just as disturbing.
My chipmunk brains and intestines were smeared all over the forest floor like pizza and Tater Tots. And the fucked-up part is, it was awesome. Being a chipmunk is the stupidest.
“The most beautiful thing about you is that you’re not a sock puppet,” she told me. This was a line from Hello, Good-Die, our James Bond parody in which everyone is actually a sock puppet. For some reason it was hilarious that she greeted me with this line.
Jesus Christ in a cockwagon. At the beginning of this sentence, my Feeling Like a Dick Quotient was at a solid 4.0, which is normal. By about the word “excuse,” it was all the way up to 9.4. By the end I was easily maxed out at 10.0. Actually, I may have broken the scale.
This is exactly the sort of dumb way a stoner would try to kill someone. By fatally hugging them. What is up with stoners? Drugs are asinine.
“No, no, don’t eat that. That’s dried cuttlefish. That’s like Dad’s favorite. He likes to wander around with part of it sticking out of his mouth.” “I’ma take a little bite.” “You can like nibble it once, but that’s it.” “Mmm.” “What do you think?” “Man, this taste stupid. This taste like some kinda . . . undersea . . . urinal.”
So yeah. This was possibly the death blow to the invisibility I had been cultivating throughout high school, and then gradually losing since becoming friends with Rachel. I used to be just normal Greg Gaines. Then I was Greg Gaines, Rachel’s Friend and Possibly Boyfriend. That was bad enough. But now I was Greg Gaines, Filmmaker. Greg Gaines, Guy with a Camera, Following People Around. Greg Gaines, Perhaps He Is Creepily Filming You Right Now Without Your Knowledge or Consent. Fuckbiscuit.
Rachel wasn’t fighting leukemia. She wasn’t interested in fighting. She seemed like she was giving up.
In the words of Nizar the Surly Syrian, “You want to fight, I fight you. Cock shit ass fuck.”
There was just something about her dying that I had understood but not really understood, if you know what I mean. I mean, you can know someone is dying on an intellectual level, but emotionally it hasn’t really hit you, and then when it does, that’s when you feel like shit.
