a surreal, subversive and scatological sci-fi comedy about the endless (and endlessly bizarre) trials and tribulations of the most hopeless, luckless slacker in the universe.

already a legend in the world of electronic publishing, where he produces the World Wide Web's only daily satirical newspaper, The Washington Pissed. His caustic commentary captures and condenses the cynical spirit of Gen-X while remaining outrageously hilarious.

This book pretty much contains just about everything good that's ever been written or done in every other book ever written, yet it also contains lots of utterly new, unheard of stuff that's never appeared in any other book, ever, or even on fucking MTV or HBO or ESPN, and never will.

This book begins where cognition and evolution end, and where they're, frankly, afraid to go. So this book is, first off, a very inexpensive way to tell cognition and evolution to "hey, go blow yourselves!"

This book has also, by design, left out all the old crap you don't really need in books or life anymore.

You know, old crap like plot and characters and stories, that make you gag just thinking or reading or even writing their names, let alone thinking or reading or even writing about what those names represent, or, worse, actually fucking living them.

So, OK, given all that, is there any possible reason, now, why you wouldn't, immediately, buy this book?

Huh? What's that? You think there may be some, uhhh, exaggeration goin' down here? A little Hyperbole, maybe? You want that good old-fashioned "external validation?"

Well, OK, so, like, how about the time Kathy Acker called its author "better than Burroughs," or how about Robert Anton Wilson saying that it "may become a Sacred Scripture, like the Principia Discordia, The Book of of the SubGenius, The Book of Mormon or Philip K. Dick's Exegesis," and that it's written with "high-voltage electric prose," and how about the thousands of e-mails that have called the online version of MFU everything from "hilarious" to "one of the best pieces of modern literature I've read in years"(though, of course, some said it, you know, "sucked a big one," too, and has-been cyberpunk, [name deleted out of respect, or threat of legal action], had so no concept of what was going on, he was unable to even comment)?

OK, so are ya ready to go impress your alleged peers by BUYING THIS FUCKING BOOK, now?

What? Huh? You're not?? These things take time? Time?!! Take!!? Things!!?? These??!!

Well, OK, if that's the case, then here's what our personal trainer recommends, instead:

Put the book down, and walk out of wherever you're reading this at. Walk out into the street. Jump into the passenger side of a car that's just starting to drive away, driven by someone you've never seen before in your life, someone from a different class and nation, someone many year's older or younger than you. Suggest someplace to go that you've both never been to before and where neither of you belong. Talk about Nietszche and the arc of Rowdy Roddy Piper's career during the drive over. When you get where you're going, get out of the car and take out, you know, your fucking wireless laptop. Now lie back in the tall grass together and READ THIS FUCKING BOOK!!!!