NCunt: Black Cocks Only

[Guest]

Why torture poor pibbs?

Log in pibbs.
Hey pibbs destroy the PC you're reading the priated epub on like a real angry reviewer.

[Kugelfisch]

I've read through House of Leafs in a single sitting. I can do that kinda torture but only every couple of years and not right now as I am too busy.
That shit killed my drive to read at all for months and I won't fuck that up this soon just getting back to it with good Sci-fi.

[Guest]

I've read sitting.

Have you tried standing?

[Kugelfisch]

I've read sitting.

Have you tried standing?

You can do better. You could've at least implied that I read it on the toilet, presumably while having an ice cream sandwich.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

An ice cream sandwich is always implied.

[Newhalf]

Even though it's difficult, I'd appreciate at least a quick fly-by to see if anything of note ever happens.

Then get a torrent and read it yourself, nigger. Why torture poor pibbs?

I think I'll do that.. I'm kinda invested in this train wreck now.
Didn't really realize it's quite that long.
Regardless, I feel it's building up to something massively bad. Not the raptor fatso sex as we've already heard that this isn't happening. That's the real reason this wasn't a huge success!
If I end up reading and something noteworthy happens (unlikely), I can let you know.

[RedLine]

Just tell if Cora and & ever have sex.

Nah, the space raptor is ACE.

[Guest]

Just tell if Cora and & ever have sex.

Nah, the space raptor is ACE.

So is Elisa. Did not stop her from spawning 2 humanoids.

[Guest]

I keep seeing that this thread is called NCunt but, by golly, I just don't know what the N stands for!

[pibbs]

Truth of the Divine by Best Selling HotDog Girl. Lindsay Ellis
Chapter 15: Dinner with Hombre
DHI Book Club Discussion by pibbs
protected by Fair Use, bitch


Okay, I know I said I would stop, but look at the worst setting description I have ever read.

his blue-haired passenger in the back “trying” to “get some sleep.” The sky was clear and blue, orange groves lining the road in perfect rows. This area of picturesque farmland was always green, but the winter rains made the whole valley greener than it was at any other point during the year. The brush on the mountains glowed with life, the grass verdant, the bushes on the side of the road dusted with millions of tiny yellow flowers.

All of a sudden, the writing is simplistic, with few of those fancy adjectives she loves. It's like someone else wrote this part.

Next sentence.

Man, it’s been so long since I’ve been in California , he thought. I never really appreciated California enough. Earth is beautiful. I hope it’s not about to get destroyed.

Then references.

Somewhere, a monkey’s paw must be curling its finger.

...Temecula seemed more or less back to normal, War of the Worlds –style doom horns followed by major earthquakes notwithstanding

What follows is Kaveh's inner monolog. Even Lindsay is bored with Cora at this point. So, what does the New Yorker Murderguy think about? Cora of course.

...She was so hopelessly in over her head it would be comical if the stakes weren’t so high...

Easy as it would be to wear her down with a cultivated combination of charm, wit, and intensity, dismantle her like an old car and sell her for parts, it didn’t feel like the right call here. This wasn’t some Machiavellian mastermind...

This was just a girl, alone and afraid, a girl who knew things of great consequence like, for instance...

This goes on for several pages. I'm not kidding.

He drives them to an Indian Casino.

“The casino?”
“I figured it would be pretty empty, though it looks like I might have underestimated the local boomers’ love of gambling. Do you want to go inside and get some food, or would you rather stay out here and take a nap?”

Of course Cora opts for food.

Let's just rapid fire this shit.

He checks her head wound. Nothing major.
He treats her to a fancy expensive meal. An $80 Surf n Turf with $8 side of mashed potatoes. $8? Fuck. I bet a million dollars Lindsay is writing from extensive experience here.

Then the most unbelievable thing in all of Lindsay's career. Cora isn't hungry. The first book she attacked pancakes like Homer Simpson.

Then even more inner monologue thinking about Cora. At least two pages.

couldn’t help but stare. Here’s the disheveled, blue-haired mess who talks to aliens. Her upper lip was slightly fuller than her lower lip, giving her a cute natural pout, and what he’d initially mistaken for frumpiness was really ill-fitting clothes on a willowy frame. If she washed out the Manic Panic and got a few hours of sleep, she’d probably clean up downright adorable.
It surprised him that this person whom he’d never expected to actually encounter in the real world was not a child but a young adult.

What exactly is this “novel” supposed to be? I've never seen an author so focused on the minutiae of a single character before.

Then a very Lindsay moment.

“Sol said you were like this . . . well, the term he used was shitbag burnout. ”
Kaveh snorted, nearly choking on a bite of fingerling potatoes. “I’m a fucking Rhodes Scholar!” he said, mouth still full. “And a bestselling author! I’ve won like two dozen awards, and I’ve been nominated for a Pulitzer!” He swallowed. “Twice! Fuck that guy.”

This. This right here is Lindsay's own frustration of not being taking seriously even though she has all these “important” titles and accomplishments. This is what someone like Lindsay deems important. Not being a good person, but being recognized as an intellectual, and one of the elite. Lindsay, you're not. You make stupid videos, and write stupid novels. You are a joke to the people who you think matter.

Want more proof this NEW YORKER is actually a Lindsay self-insert?

“He’s probably referring to the fact that I used to drink a lot. Like, a lot. He has no moral standing over me, so he has to go for the low-hanging fruit, because he sucks.”

”Now it’s carbs. I spend like half my expendable income at the Cheesecake Factory.”

Lindsay, darling, only women give a shit about the Cheesecake Factory, and shush! Those aren't men you hang out with.

Anyway, Kaveh is an immigrant.

you; I was born in the theocratic authoritarian fundamentalist state formerly known as Persia.

Cringe.

They banter about where he grew up, and his family while scarfing down lobster – in this space raptor space opera fantasy. Riveting.

Wait a minute... he's from Iran and is eating shellfish? Okay. A non Muslim Iranian. I guess they exist.

She forced herself to take another bite. She had gotten through . . . maybe 30 percent of those taters.

Taters? Taters may pass in dialogue... you know what? Fuck it. No one is reading this shit at this point anyway.

Now they're talking about his parents real estate investments.

WHY?! This goes on FOR A FULL PAGE!!!

“How many properties does your family have?”
“Investment properties, or properties in general?”

My dear fellow DHIers, HOW did this book come to be? How did anyone, including LINDSAY think this was something anybody would want to read? Is her hubris so out of control, she believes that whatever she shits out is gold?

Three pages about his family's real estate and wealth.

FINALLY, subject change. His career. GAWD!

Then more of this shit.

“What’s interesting about those guys?”
“Oh, you know. Their brand of conspiracy theory tends to leak into real-world consequences. Religious fundamentalism, xenophobia— the human-on-human kind. Anti-Semitism is a biggie.”
“Anti-Semitism?”
“Yeah, it’s a thing. The Jews are using the aliens to control the world, see. The Jews hate Western Civilization just like they always have, so they’re helping the aliens make it crumble in exchange for, I don’t know, power or something.”

“Yes, a lot of people actually believe that.”
She leaned back into her chair, clearly unsure if he had his facts straight. He couldn’t blame her for that—so much had changed so quickly in these last few months, between the Bush resignation and the world economy collapsing to the revelation of motherfucking aliens, it was hard to keep up with how poorly society at large was coping.

Uh huh.

He gets Cora her own room. And he wants to borrow one of the ear pieces to talk to Enola.

End of chapter.