review: Pounded by my Handsome Ghost Boats

Title: Pounded by my Handsome Ghost Boats

Author: Chuck Tingle

ghost boats

WhatWhat: Ralph is trying to relax at the pool, but the ghosts of several boats that died in a tragic fire at his family’s marina want to get laid.

Money Quotes:

The only thing that hasn’t exactly been a joy to deal with my are my families six rambunctious ghost boats, one of the lesser known drawbacks of having a dad with a dealership. (loc 14)

Sorry, Ralph, I have no sympathy whatsoever for anyone whose dad owns a dealership.

They like to do this on occasion, showing these unsuspecting guys the time of their lives and then disappearing days later, so that when the men ask around it will be revealed that the boats in question died long ago in a terrible marina fire. Spooky. (loc 24)

Spooky and mildly insane.

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck a ghost, and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to fuck a boat,” I admit. “Now I get to learn both!” (loc 169)

Verdict: I for one am relieved to see that his Hugo nomination hasn’t spoiled Dr. Tingle for the simpler pleasures in life, like ghost boats.

review: F# Me in the Bass

Title: F# Me in the Bass

Author: Leonard Delaney

f# me in the bass

WhatWhat: Bass player Pedro auditions for the Pussywhips, and it’s a penetrative experience as he follows their lead and lets his instrument ravish him.

Money Quotes:

His tongue wriggled as he kissed the guitar’s head deeply while caressing its nut from behind. (loc 75)

Musicians are a separate breed.

As the drums led the way to the song’s breezy bridge and slowed it down for a moment, the head of Pedro’s guitar tentatively entered his butt. The tuning pegs took some effort to get past, but after they did, the guitar produced a delightful vibration inside of him. (loc 104)

Verdict: The Pussywhips are an actual band, apparently, and this was created by Delaney for and with them. I was curious enough to go look at their Tumblr, so in that sense it’s working. It’s also working in the sense that now I’m afraid of guitars.

recap: Slammed in the Butt by my Hugo Nomination

Title: Slammed in the Butt by my Hugo Nomination

Author: Chuck Tingle

slammed hugo

Recap:

We open on an oddly self-aware note:

I’ve been writing my whole life and, somehow, despite the overwhelming odds, I’ve become successful at it. Who would have thought? (loc 4)

And this intriguing hint:

While I’ve dabbled in everything from horror to non-fiction, my personal taste lies firmly planted in the realm of gay erotica, particularly that of the dinosaur and unicorn variety. (loc 15)

I wonder if that only applies to Tuck Bingle, or to our own Chuck Tingle as well?

Then Tuck gets an unexpected email:

“Congratulations, Chuck Tingle,” I read the subject line aloud to myself. “Your book, Space Raptor Butt Invasion, has been nominated for this year’s short story Hugo Award.”

Of course this is very exciting news, save for two important flaws; my name is not Chuck Tingle, and I have never written a story titled Space Raptor Butt Invasion. (loc 30)

Tuck Bingle ruminates on the eerie similarities between himself and this unknown Chuck guy, including their names and choice of genre. He tries to email back to tell the Hugo people they’ve got the wrong guy, but his email fails to deliver because “this address is located on a different layer of the Tingleverse.” (loc 40)

There’s some fairly dense exposition about how Tuck’s been playing around with the concept of the Bingleverse, and reality is a stack of parallel worlds of varying degrees of gayness.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the stack is your universe, the universe of the reader. In this upper universe, homosexuality is simply a type of sexuality for humans to experience and enjoy. (loc 56)

Somewhere out there is there a universe where scifi/fantasy is simply a genre for people to read and enjoy, without endless fucking arguments about who’s doing it wrong? Nah, probably not.

Tuck expresses his faith that the author has put him here for a reason, and then says that the author would like him to remind us that there are reasons to suspect he’s been living in one of the deeper layers of the Tingleverse for years:

He doesn’t have time to tell you about the fact that my mailman is hunky unicorn in leather, assless chaps, or that the last flight I took was delayed because the planes were all having a hardcore gangbang on the tarmac.(loc 69)

Also the author wants us to know that this is a short story whose main function is getting off.

He says, “bare with me.” (loc 69)

…I don’t even think “bare” is a typo.

Tuck talks out loud and a barista comes over to be the voice of the author. I mean, he’s fully aware that he’s the author’s mouthpiece. He explains that the readers are way up on the top level of the Tingleverse.

“You see, up there, nobody actually realizes they’re in a tingler. They’re the readers, and for the most part their lives are pretty ordinary; no dinosaurs, no bigfeet, no living objects pounding each other in the ass all day.”

I scoff. “I doubt that, if there’s no dinosaurs then what do all the dinosexuals do?” (loc 101)

But in our world, Chuck is the only dinosexual. It’s very sad, when you think about it. Then the barista explains that Chuck has been nominated for a Hugo Award (which must not exist in Tuck’s world because the barista has to explain what it is). Not everyone is happy about the nomination:

“The guy who wrote Game of Bones?” I ask. “That fantasy series?”

The barista nods. “They made a TV show, too. On this layer it’s just a simple daytime sitcom about brutish men in a fantasy realm boning each other, while in deeper layers it’s called Game of Moans and is slightly more explicit. Even deeper in the Tingleverse it’s called Game of Butts, which doesn’t even rhyme, so you can see where their priorities are. Anyway, he has a show on the highest level of the Tingleverse, too, and he’s pretty upset about Chuck’s nomination.” (loc 121)

Shots of get-over-yourself-ness have been fired.

“I want to help Chuck Tingle win the Hugo Awards,” I finally blurt. (loc 137)

Me too, Buck. Me, too.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Get fucked up your butt by the Hugo Award nomination,” the barista responds. (loc 161)

Okay, I can’t match Tucks dedication to the cause.

Suddenly a muscular living object steps into the coffee shop, causing customers to flee in terror. It’s the rocket-shaped Hugo Award, and its name is Kelpo.

Tuck suggests they go out for dinner.

“It’s cute, I get it,” the barista says, “but we like to come in at four to five thousand words for these things. A date’s probably going to push us over the word count. (loc 184)

He relents:

“Alright, just one date, but I’m only going to take like, two sentences to describe it, tops. After that you’ll each get a line of dialog and then it’s right to the fucking.” (loc 191)

In many ways that’s the perfect date.

I’m not surprised when we end up back at his place, which is a massive clear display case for large awards. (loc 196)

THAT SENTENCE ALONE SHOULD WIN A LARGE AWARD.

“You like what you see?” I question, wiggling my muscular rump playfully at my historic science fiction and fantasy award lover. (loc 224)

I have read a multitude of versions of that sentence, but this is my favourite yet.

There’s sex, and at the moment of orgasm Tuck has a vision:

I see a man who looks a lot like me, only slightly older and wearing a bright white Tai Kwon Do uniform. He’s writing in his bedroom, which looks remarkably like my own except there are posters of famous wrestlers and shirtless men all over the walls. (loc 254)

Chuck talks to Tuck, sounding just like his twitter feed, and basically tells him love is real. The Hugo voters, he admits, probably won’t think he’s a good writer; they’re likely to get hung up on the spelling errors.

Oh, my heart. I feel personally guilty.

But Chuck assures Tuck it doesn’t matter. He knows he’s a good writer and that love is real, and that’s all that matters.

 

 

review:The Thing That Tore Us Apart

Title: The Thing That Tore Us Apart (bonus story included with Huxley Humped Me)

Author: Jade

huxley
I know this has nothing to do with the story, but the story was included in this book.

WhatWhat: Michael and Molly go on their honeymoon, only because the trip is being funded by resentful friends, they end up in a cabin in a tropical jungle that features strangely sexual trees. Molly ends up giving birth to, I don’t know, an alien cantaloupe or something.

Money Quotes:

Michael and Molly were the perfect couple. Every one of their single friends couldn’t stand them and their unhappily married friends liked them even less. So when they announced they were getting married, the responses ranged from vomiting on the spot in jealousy, to smug satisfaction that they would soon be as unhappy as everybody else. (loc 217)

That’s the best opening I’ve read in ages.

With a branch up his anus and his cock rubbing up against the bark, Michael couldn’t help but feel very stimulated, and he looked down to see a drop of pre-cum escaping his prick-head. (loc 314)

Verdict: This was bizarre, but also well-written and addictively readable.

review: Huxley Humped Me

Title: Huxley Humped Me: Puppet Pregnancy

Author: Jade

huxley

WhatWhat: For her nineteenth birthday Annabel’s parents give her a limited edition collectible puppet from her favourite childhood television show. She’s recently broken up with her boyfriend, who was cheating on her; the news that his new girlfriend is pregnant is the last straw. Luckily her puppet, Huxley, knows just how to comfort her: by pulling out his (presumably fabric?) erection and stuffing her.

Money Quotes:

Her father was holding in front of her, a limited edition collectable puppet from Annabel’s favourite childhood cartoon, his name was Huxley. (loc 48)

Ouch. Those commas are making my eyes hurt, and that should be “collectible.”

Annabel worked for Kmart as a check out girl, just trying to make enough money to pay for some of her study fees. She was studying to be a kindergarten teacher and didn’t want to burden her parents with the expense of books and stationary and all that nonsense. (loc 76)

“Books and stationary and all that nonsense.” Yes, dear, I’m sure you’ll be a credit to the teaching profession.

The thought of that ho-bag having Marco’s baby was almost too much for her. They should have been her future babies carrying his last name and striking features! (loc 99)

Maybe the ho-bag likes books, though. Just putting that out there.

“Oh, you’re asking if I’m packing?” Huxley laughed, ripping off his pants. “What do you reckon baby?”

Huxley was enormous, far too obscene for the star of a children’s show. (loc 159)

Yes, puppets on children’s shows should have small, respectable penises, damn it all.

Verdict: This one has a heartening moral: the things we loved in childhood can be a source of comfort to us when things get tough. Also, if your cheating boyfriend knocks up a stripper you can always go fuck a puppet. Seriously, though, this was incredibly entertaining, even though I’ll be side-eyeing the Muppets from now on.

There are bonus stories included as well, and I have to review at least one of them, but I’ll do them separately.

review: Leonardo Dicaprico Finally Wins His Award and It Pounds Him in the Butt

Title: Leonardo Dicaprico Finally Wins His Award and It Pounds Him in the Butt

Author: Chuck Tingle

leonardo dicaprio

WhatWhat: A deserving candidate FINALLY takes his award. This is a Chuck Tingle story, so he takes it up the arse, of course.

As a side note, it took me a full five minutes to remember the real actor’s name after reading this.

Money Quotes:

The Academy of Handsome Buckaroos is a powerful and deep rooted organization, formed over sixty years ago as a way for the Hollywood elite to congratulate themselves on their own handsomeness. (loc 23)

Most accurate description ever.

That movie, of course, was The Revenass, the harrowing tale of a handsome buckaroo lost in the snow for hours and hours after narrowly surviving a bigfoot attack. (loc 53)

I hear it was filmed here in Canada.

Driven mad with lust, I open my mouth wide and take the award’s shaft between my lips, bobbing up and down a few times before retracting him again. A long thread of saliva hangs from my lips and connects to the head of his enormous rod. (loc 196)

Sometimes I’m afraid that strand of saliva will appear in my dreams.

I carefully align the statue’s cock with my already reamed back down and then push download, letting out a long, low moan as my butthole stretches to surround his massive dick. (loc 240)

You align it with what and do what now?

Verdict: I might actually watch the damned Oscars if they were more like this.

 

review: Turned Gay by the Existential Dread That I May Actually be a Character in a Chuck Tingle Book

Title: Turned Gay by the Existential Dread That I May Actually be a Character in a Chuck Tingle Book

Author: Chuck Tingle

turned gay by the existential dread

WhatWhat: Brad is on vacation with his wife, Carrie, when the latest Chuck Tingle makes him start to doubt his own existence while the universe around him becomes gayer.

Money Quotes:

As I said before, I’m a huge fan of Chuck’s work, although I am dubious about the idea that he is a real man out there in Billings, pounding away at the typewriter to create a seemingly endless supply of gay erotica. (loc 21)

Brad is so “relatable” as a character, isn’t he?

“Is that the name of the hotel?” I stammer, barely able to find the words. I feel sick to my stomach, a wave of nausea washing over me.

“Butt Point Suites?” my wife asks, walking up behind me.

I’m utterly dumbfounded. “I thought it was the Sandy Point Suites,” I protest. (loc 102)

I love it.

Suddenly, a whole team of handsome young football players burst into the lobby, shouting and cheering as they slap each other on the ass with playful enthusiasm. They are all shirtless, with boyish smiles and an intoxicating, vibrant charm. (loc 163)

Poor Brad becoming increasingly stressed as the universe around him reveals itself to be the Tingleverse is one of the funniest things I’ve read in ages. I need this to be a made-for-television movie or something.

The figure relaxing in the tub before me is not a man at all, but a swirling ethereal manifestation of my suffocating existential dread. (loc 217)

I hate when that happens.

Verdict: This is currently my second favourite book in the world, right behind Foucault’s Pendulum.