Becky says things about … THE BOOK IS HERE!

Darlings, it’s here!

This Ridiculous Life, the book I have penned and self-published myself, which is a fabulously spruced-up and revamped collection of some of the things I’ve said on this blog – as well as some lovely NEW things – is back from the printers!! Look:

This Rid Life

Click on ‘Buy This Ridiculous Life’ right up at the top of this page, and buy This Ridiculous Life.

Look, Stickman’s been standing out in the cold for ages – at least make his endeavours worthwhile.

book s ale

Thank you, dear Listeners. Thank you.

Becky says things about … publishing a book

Oh, sweet, patient Listeners. I have not entered the hallowed sphere of blogging for over two months.

But I have an excellent excuse.

No, I have not been trapped in my wardrobe after burrowing too far into it in an attempt to locate Narnia – I have been SELF-PUBLISHING A BOOK.

cartwheel

Yes, dearest Listeners, I have been working on adapting some of the things I’ve said on this blog into a book, along with quite a lot of lovely new things to say especially for said book. It’s a book about the silliness of human existence: everything from monstrous things about working in an office, commuting, failed exercise attempts, bad habits, hangovers, to being a rubbish woman, the dentist and getting old.

The book is at the printers as we speak. I have just had to re-do my front cover, having realised – o, the horror – that

courier

Once the cover has been cleansed of this heinous rogue typeface, it shall be printed. I should have it early next week.

Here is a sneak preview of the front cover:

ridiculous cover

Look! Lots of little stickmen on the front of a book!

Soooo…. this totally means that you can BUY this book JUST IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS!! How utterly brilliant is that?

You will be able to buy the book on here (once I work out how to set up a payment thing whatsit), and what a brilliant Christmas present! Buy it and shove it in someone’s Christmas stocking – OR treat yourself to the best toilet book you’ll ever buy.

I wrote this book because of you lot – you kept telling me I should turn my blog into a book, and now I’ve only gone and done it… so basically, it’s all your fault. Hurrah!

stickman3

Oh for God’s sake.

Yes, okay – sigh – Listeners, this book also features the star of the show, Stickman, using his best acting skills to get himself into all sorts of situations and illustrate my points far better than I could ever do using words alone. He has been an integral part of this project, and if he hadn’t been heavily involved I would be a miserable, wretched failure. He is literally the most prolific stick ever to be involved in a literary work of art, and I urge you to purchase this book for his stunning performance alone.

stickman4

Well I’ve done all right so far, Sticky.

So that’s it folks, watch this space… save a bit of cash for that last Christmas present (or the first Christmas present if, like me, you thought it was still April and literally cannot believe that OH MY GOD IT’S DECEMBER AND MY LIFE IS TRICKLING AWAY BEFORE MY VERY EYES) – and buy a silly little book full of words about our silly little life.

 

 

Becky says things about … fifty shades of my life I’ll never get back.

Dear E.L James

I’ve just finished reading your record-breaking bestseller Fifty Shades of Grey, and I’ve got a few things I’d like to talk about.

1. Well done for writing a novel. Oh no, wait – three novels. Well done. I haven’t written a novel. So well done, again. You’ve done something a lot of people haven’t. But please don’t write any more. Ever. Okay? Thanks.

2. Not that you’ll need one if you adhere to point 1, but please sack your editor. Did you have an editor for this book, E.L James? Because he didn’t cut the mustard. If you’d had an editor, why would he have let things like this go?

‘Saturdays at the store are a nightmare.We are besieged by do-it-yourselfers wanting to spruce up their homes. Mr. and Mrs. Clayton and John and Patrick – the other two part-timers – and I are besieged by customers.’

It’s a terrible bit of writing, E.L James. Why didn’t your editor say ‘Look, E.L James, you’ve used the word ‘besieged’ already. You can’t use it again. That’s twice in two sentences. Real, credible authors just don’t do that.’ But maybe he said ‘Actually, this is just one of a staggering number of instances in which you repeat yourself and use the same word, and I can’t be bothered to go through them all, so go ahead, do what you want.’ That’s probably what happened.

3. Find me a woman, E.L James, who had such a mind-blowingly beautiful, erotic and pleasurable experience as Ana does losing her virginity. Can’t find one? Well maybe that’s because there isn’t one. Anywhere. In the world. Losing one’s virginity – and I won’t dwell on this point, E.L James, because my mum reads this blog – is, as everyone knows, less like this:

and more like this:

It’s a fact, E.L James. A cold, hard fact. Real women are less likely to have an earth-shattering orgasm whilst losing their virginity, and more likely to realise that they’ve just entered a world that’s a bit messy, slightly uncomfortable, and ultimately a little disappointing, so there’ll be no shattering earths here. Which brings me neatly onto my next point.

4. Orgasms, E.L James. We need to talk about orgasms. If real women had as many earth-shattering orgasms as Ana does in any 24 hour period, they would be dead. If real women only needed a bit of a stroke and a couple of thrusts in order to have an earth-shattering orgasm, the world would either be deafened by the sound of constantly climaxing couples, or in total silence, as couples sit around not talking to each other as they realise that the novelty has very quickly worn off and they’re actually both a bit tired.

5. People with a penchant for slightly dodgy, slightly outlandish pastimes, such as tying their naked girlfriends to giant crucifixes and hitting them with stuff, don’t necessarily have to be fucked up in order to justify said dodgy pastime. I know someone who really likes visiting model villages, and he’s not fucked up. He didn’t feel the need to justify his hobby. He just really likes small houses.

So if you want to write about a dude who’s into some kinky shit, E.L James, you don’t necessarily need to drop the worst bombshell in the history of terrible bombshells in order to explain why he’s into the kinky shit: ‘The woman who brought me into this world was a crack-whore.’ Wasn’t convinced by that, E.L James. Sorry.

6. Holy crap, E.L James, one of the first things I noticed when I started, holy shit, reading your novel, was – oh my – your tremendous, I mean, holy crap, tremendous amount of repetitive asides that, holy fuck, really, really, oh my holy crap holy shit really got on my wick. Oh my, E.L James, did those repetitive asides get on my wick. Why, E.L James? Apparently, Ana says ‘Oh my’ over 200 times throughout the whole book. It’s a 500 page book. That’s roughly one ‘Oh my’ every two and a half pages. That’s too much, E.L James. Just way, way too much.

Just a few pointers there, E.L James, in case you were ever thinking of writing another book (please see point 1). Unfortunately, reading your book made me want to do this to myself:

Sorry about that.

Anyway, enjoy the money, go on holiday, buy a car, a mansion, a nice watch. Whatever.

Yours faithfully

Becky