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#1 |
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Update -- Now 99 Cents on Amazon and Smashwords: On the Origins of Joy Boy's Chasm
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#2 |
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Now available for 99 cents
Please see update -- now available for 99 cents on Amazon and Smashwords.
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#3 |
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Thanks for the reviews
I'm not sure if the readers originated from this board or not, but many thanks for the recent reviews for the Kindle edition of On the Origins of Joy Boy's Chasm
![]() Thanks again, Liam |
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#4 |
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Joy Boy's Chasm #4 in Parodies, #3 in Relationships/Advice
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#5 |
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Joy Boy's Chasm Excerpt
CHAPTER 36: How Jed asked for a Snoball, and the repercussions thereof “Pass me a Snoball Boy!” Jed said, reaching his hand over to Lerou as the truck trembled down the highway. “And don’t be brushin’ all the coconuts into yer mouth lik’ya dun with the last’un!” Lerou put his Pabst Blue Ribbon between his legs and leaned down, reaching into the plastic bag on the floor at his feet. While he rummaged through the empty wrappers in the bag in search of a fresh pack, Jed inadvertently steered the truck over towards the side of the road while smiling at a woman who was passing by in a Range Rover, thus causing a violent vibration to the truck from the deep grooves which bordered the side of the highway. The PBR between Lerou’s legs consequently tipped over, causing him to kick his left leg out in an effort to avoid the spilling liquid. As he kicked his leg, his rollerblade smacked into the spittoon on the axle bump, thereby projecting said spittoon towards Jed’s right leg, which it hit sharply before falling to the cab of the truck at Jed’s feet. On its side, the spittoon released the spit onto the floor and Jed’s legs began slipping and sliding all over the place as the truck jerked erratically from Jed’s feet slamming intermittently the gas and the brake pedals. The jerking of the truck caused Lerou to crack his head into the glove box, just before he was hit in the head by the spittoon as it came flying back over to his side of the truck, having been kicked by Jed’s sliding foot. A bit of residue from the spittoon made its way down Lerou’s cheek, towards his neck, and Lerou put his hand to the inner thigh of his carpenter’s pants, where the beer had spilled, applying then his moistened hand to his cheek in order to clean the spit away. While he wiped, his rollerblades rolled back and forth on the floor and over the plastic bag, thereby mashing any remaining Snoballs. Suddenly, the spittoon, from its position on the seat where it had landed after hitting Lerou in the cheek, and in a good turn of chance, hopped back off the seat and onto the floor at Jed’s feet, wedging itself eventually behind the gas pedal. Jed shimmied the truck over to the shoulder and waited for it to come to a halt. Eventually stopping about a quarter mile down the road, the truck let out some puffs of smoke from various places underneath the hood and then settled into itself. Jed held his hands on the wheel for a few moments, and then turned to Lerou. “Dammit, Boy!” he said. “What’s yer problem? All I dun asked fir was a dang Snoball!” Last edited by LJL; 12-29-2009 at 02:54 PM. |
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#6 |
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Joy Boy's Chasm Excerpt
On the Origins of Joy Boy's Chasm will remain at 99 cents until the first week of January . . . get your dose of Total Enlightenment in before the New Year, while it is still affordable!
"An infectious romp guaranteed to entertain." Happy New Year to all authors and readers. Joy Boy's Chasm Excerpt CHAPTER 33: How Nuntius regained his old self; how he learned that man will soon molt like lobsters; and how he perceived the negative effects this would have upon his life The unforgiving hardness of the compact molecules in the concrete steps pressed into Nuntius’ vertebrae in no less than five places. As he lay he felt as if his muscles had been disconnected from his brain, unable to move, whilst he baked like a pancaked frog on an Arizona highway. He felt the skin on his forehead heating up like a flapjack on a greasy, backstreet diner grill. With each passing minute his delivery was becoming later, and he was sure that he was going blind as the sun rays pierced through his closed eyelids. And while closed, before those eyes passed blurry passages of light, while into his ears entered the foggy sounds of honking horns, loafers, high-heels and cap-toes, and into his nose wafted drafts of fat, salty pretzels and dirty-water dogs. In his hazy paralysis he tried to figure the amount of time he had been lying there – was it closer to a minute? – or closer to 10 minutes? Had it been an hour? It was a dreamy, cloudy, lightning-lit stormy sea tempest inside his head when a soft, beaconing sound drifted into his right ear, accompanied a moment later by a familiar scent which triggered an electrifying jolt that proceeded to course through Nuntius’ comatose body. He popped his eyes open, and his pupils dilated instantly, filling the space in his sockets as the bright sun shone directly down, and he squinted. The sweet scent grew stronger and Nuntius rolled his head over to the right to see the source: a copy of the International Herald Tribune. Somebody had carelessly tossed it onto the sidewalk next to where he was lying. Nuntius reached over and picked it up. It was opened to the Health and Science section, and Nuntius read the first headline: Science is Warming to Intimations of Immortality. The blood inside of Nuntius began racing through his body as he read the news, darting through his veins and arteries with such vigor that he thought he might burst. He was propelled to his blades on the sidewalk, and continued reading the article as he began to blade: The upper limits of what we thought to be the cellular life-span – about 120 years – will be shattered in the 21st century when medicine will have advanced to the point at which every 10 years or so, people will take a regenerative dose of ‘stem cells’ that can restore the various organs. Nuntius paused from the reading to look up as he crossed 52nd Street, simultaneously concocting in his head a story as to why his delivery was so late. He took a sip from the straw at his shoulder, felt his pulse beating rapidly, and looked back down to the paper as he bladed on: These stem cells, the basic building blocks of life, will build new heart and lung cells. “Amazing,” Nuntius said to himself, looking around in excitement for somebody to share the news with. He took a right on 50th, and continued reading: ‘We will molt like lobsters’, replacing tired old cells with vigorous new ones, predicted Mr. Hasettine, a prominent scientist who once headed the pharmacology lab at Dana Farbes Cancer Institute in Boston, adding, ‘This is the first time we can conceive human immortality." “Incredible,” Nuntius said aloud, folding the paper in two and stuffing it into his backpack as he continued west. “Man, these stem cells are going to be the most precious item man has ever known,” he thought to himself. “But wait, I’m screwed!” he went on. “It’s going to be just like with those insurance policies! All this great technology, and all it does is keep screwing me! These things will be so expensive that only the rich will be able to afford them – and they will live on, forever young. Flashing, at 180 years old, their comely, 25 year-old physiques, as if flashing some new coattails from Barney’s. And the poor, oh the poor! The wretched, the weary, who wear their rags today, will be wearing their sick, oozing, virus-infected bodies tomorrow! Soon after, hospitals will begin shutting their doors, closing up shop as they will no longer be making a profit since their sole clientele will consist of poor people who can’t pay their bills. They will live on the streets, as no landlord will rent to them unless they pay the full year’s rent in advance, and they will have no doctors, no diagnosis, no hope, while the members of the Forever Young Billionaires Club will be wading through their sea of decrepit bodies. Oh, this is bad,” Nuntius thought, entering his delivery destination at the World Wide Plaza. “This is bad.” |
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For all of the non-Kindle readers out there, I neglected to give you the coupon code on Smashwords in my previous post . . . the code for the 99 cent download of On the Origins of Joy Boy's Chasm is JG37M.
Also, I will send a free, signed copy of the paperback edition to the first 5 non-kindle readers who send me their Smashwords receipt at my blog email address (this includes international readers!). www.LiamJamesLaven.com www.theHumorBooksBlog.blogspot.com |
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joy boy's chasm, new author, new ebook |
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