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xterminal's review
3.0
Lance Carbuncle, Smashed, Squashed, Splattered, Chewed, Chunked, and Spewed (VBW Publishing, 2007)
Yeah, Smashed, Squashed, Splattered, Chewed, Chunked, and Spewed is a self-published novel, and yeah, it has most of the hallmarks of the self-published novel (a certain laxness in proofreading, verbiage that could have benefited from a professional editor, a rather silly cover, and a name-- which, by the by, refers to a type of breakfast potato, which I now must try-- that's truly awful). But as far as self-published novels go, this one's funny. Lance Carbuncle's self-deprecating humor kicks off on the first page and doesn't let up until the very end of the book. I'll warn you from the outset that some of this humor will probably not sit well with you. That just makes it all the funnier.
The book involves the owner of one Idjit Galoot, a basset hound with a fondness for beer and deviled eggs. We start off with said owner and a rather slow cousin of his on a roadtrip to Florida in a U-Haul containing, among other things, the stuffed body of his father. His mother will follow along with Idjit later. He realizes something is amiss, however, when Idjit starts appearing in his dreams. The two of them stop in a podunk Tennessee town where our hapless narrator sells his soul for a night of drinking and sells his cousin out in order to avoid a trip to a rural prison. And that's when things start getting really weird.
Politically incorrect, stupidly funny, endemically scatological, and featuring a character named Fat Elvis declaiming on the benefits of defenestration, Smashed, Squashed... is exactly the kind of book you don't want to read your kids as a serial bedtime story. Or perhaps you do. Your family may be odd. But if you enjoy laughing while being grossed out, this is certainly a book for you. ***
Yeah, Smashed, Squashed, Splattered, Chewed, Chunked, and Spewed is a self-published novel, and yeah, it has most of the hallmarks of the self-published novel (a certain laxness in proofreading, verbiage that could have benefited from a professional editor, a rather silly cover, and a name-- which, by the by, refers to a type of breakfast potato, which I now must try-- that's truly awful). But as far as self-published novels go, this one's funny. Lance Carbuncle's self-deprecating humor kicks off on the first page and doesn't let up until the very end of the book. I'll warn you from the outset that some of this humor will probably not sit well with you. That just makes it all the funnier.
The book involves the owner of one Idjit Galoot, a basset hound with a fondness for beer and deviled eggs. We start off with said owner and a rather slow cousin of his on a roadtrip to Florida in a U-Haul containing, among other things, the stuffed body of his father. His mother will follow along with Idjit later. He realizes something is amiss, however, when Idjit starts appearing in his dreams. The two of them stop in a podunk Tennessee town where our hapless narrator sells his soul for a night of drinking and sells his cousin out in order to avoid a trip to a rural prison. And that's when things start getting really weird.
Politically incorrect, stupidly funny, endemically scatological, and featuring a character named Fat Elvis declaiming on the benefits of defenestration, Smashed, Squashed... is exactly the kind of book you don't want to read your kids as a serial bedtime story. Or perhaps you do. Your family may be odd. But if you enjoy laughing while being grossed out, this is certainly a book for you. ***
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