Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Another Dorkinville Resident Bites the Dust

You may be surprised to learn that Bill Maher, former host of the delicious and much-missed Politically Incorrect and now pundit cum satirist cum Lady Elaine Fairchild look-a-like host of HBO’s Real Time With Bill Maher, is a big dorky dork from Dorkinville, Kentucky.

(Dorkinville, for those who don‘t know, is the home of such luminary writers as Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Jewel, Madonna, and Pamela Anderson, to name but a few.)

The myth that witty, intelligent people like Bill Maher can successfully write anything they please with masterful aplomb has been shattered with this, his debut novel titled “True Story: A Novel.”

No, I haven’t read the book, and I don’t plan on reading it. After “meeting” his main characters, Dick, Shit, Fat, Chink and Buck, whose monikers, I’m certain, were chosen by Maher’s five-year-old nephew, and reading lines like: "Hey, get down off there!" ejaculated the conductor, and the giggling colleagues dismounted and took their rightful places inside the gleaming trispangled Amtrak Minuteman, bound for Trenton, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, D.C., towns where comedy was king and the audience peasants, I decided it would be best to click the little red X in the right hand corner of my screen and pretend that I had not just witnessed literary suicide.

R.I.P. Dorko.


At 2:01 PM, Blogger Rotting Dead said...

Thanks for the heads-up, now I know NOT to touch this garbage when I see it on the shelves of my local book depository.

At 2:38 PM, Blogger J. Stephen Reid said...


Maybe I should get back to that novel I was working on.

At 10:24 PM, Blogger Jas... said...

Excellent! Not that I was going to read him anyway.

Read my novels instead! :D

At 11:08 PM, Anonymous Jeni said...

I always thought he put too much stock in his own hype. Apparently he's just confirmed it by putting something like that out.
Sad how publishers and editors fall over someone with a 'name' while people with actual talent hit the slush piles.

At 9:38 AM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Hey RD, good to see you back!

Joshie, yes, please do. I'll be first in line to buy it, too.

Jas, I am! Whenever I get a chance (that is, more than twenty minutes at a stretch -- nearly impossible in my house, but I try!), I hit your Empty Spaces (I hate reading from the screen, so that tells you how much I'm enjoying your novel). Love, love, love Rhyze. You're a wonderful writer.

Jeni, I like him, but he should stick to nonfiction. Definitely.

At 10:42 AM, Blogger k1tchenwitch said...

Oh my. I'm not even going to touch the excerpt (I mean, it's better than ants feasting on your eyes, but. . .I think it's better than ants feasting on your eyes. Is it?)

But WHOA ~ I never noticed the Maher/Fairchild connection before. That's just plain creepy.

At 10:57 AM, Blogger Ms. Lori said...

Theresa, there's a well-known story traveling in certain circles that Maher's momma had a little bit of a to-do with Fairchild's daddy.

Apparently, the sibling rivalry is particularly vicious, so much so, Maher refers to his half sister as "that fucking dildo-nosed puppet fuckerhead."

***sigh*** Can you tell I'm bored today, Theresa?

At 11:39 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey, Lori--

This novel of his was actually written something like ten years ago or more. I believe I heard an anticdote about him printing out the book as the L.A. Riots of '91-'92 were going on, a few years before he became a "big" name. It was rereleased once Politically Incorrect hit Comedy Central and was a huge hit. Now, I don't know how good/bad it is, but it may not be as bad as those others you've mentioned...



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