Book: Fuck Yourself

Despite the many subtleties in Fuck Yourself, the book conveniently arranges its main points into chapter form for easier wading. As one progresses through the book, the overall theme becomes more and more apparent, Bartholomew tying everything together in the last chapter (simply titled “Chapter 48”) in a barrage of points that are shockingly empoweringful. Upon finishing the book, one is invigorated with a passion to claim their life for what it is.

Fuck Yourself is a brilliant manifesto for the human condition, but it is not without its difficulties. The messages in the book take some thought and inner reflection on the part of the reader. Getting through the book itself is often challenging (there are frequently six to eight chapters in a row written solely in ancient Latin), but this should not be a deterrent due to the sheer reward of self-enlightenment that readers can come away with.

Verdict

If you are tired of the hollow advice offered by other self-help books, or even if you have ever just found yourself lying awake at night wondering what the next day will bring, then Fuck Yourself: A Self-Help Book for the Kind of Person Who Needs Self-Help Books may be just the ticket you are looking for. If you can adjust to the moderately slow pace (at least for just the first few hundred pages, that is) and the challenging ideas tossed at you, then this book will offer you one thought-provoking insight about yourself after another.

9.3 out of 10

Sample Chapters

Introduction

Dear reader,

Let me tell you why I decided to write this book. I tried backing out of a knife fight one time. You know where that got me? A knife in the side of the fucking eye. I told the person I didn’t want any trouble and BAM! Right in the fucking eye! That taught me a lesson. As I was standing there, holding my fucking eye, blood and retinas running down my face (did you know that? Retinas are a liquid. When you get stabbed in the eye, that shit just leaks out of there. So I had blood and black retina juice spewing out everywhere. Fuck), I vowed that I would never back down from anything in my life ever again. And I haven’t. Not ever. And you can’t either.

I know what you’re thinking: “Well, I’m probably just going to put this book back on the shelf, since the jacket description didn’t really jazz me up. Maybe I’ll save the $24.95 and go buy a coffee instead. Shit, a Starbucks inside a Barnes & Noble. What’ll they think of next?” But if you had read more than just the cover and the table of contents, then you would realize that you’re holding a mother fucking gold mine in your hands. You want to get your life straightened out? Well then quit paying 300 dollars a month for internet porn and go re-connect with your estranged kids, you fucking moron. Or do the easy thing and buy this book.

Do you like having a fucking terrible life? Do you? “Aww, it looks like I’m not gonna get that promotion, aww!” Fuck you! Be a fucking tiger! Go maul your fucking boss and make him give you a promotion! Or, better yet, go fuck his daughter and shit on his wife and be your own fucking boss. You know what I did after I got stabbed in the eye? I pulled that bitch’s own goddamn knife out of my eye and stabbed ‘er back with it! Got both eyes in one go. Into one eye, through the septum, and out into the other eye! That’s being a fucking tiger! Blind the shit out of her!

Fuck you Mom, you started it. Blind fucking bitch.

Sincerely,

Salmon P.S. Bartholomew, DDS.

Professional Pyschialogist

Chapter 1:

So Your Life Is Hard

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Chapter 2:

The One Step Program

Most self-help bullshit will give you some fucking goal pyramid or a list of shit to live by or some shit. Honestly, I don’t really know what the fuck they do, because I’ve never read a self-help book. You know why? Because I’m not a fucking pussy, that’s why. Do you think I need help? Shit the fuck no! I was born with that shit.

Anyway, the point is that this book is going to make things very simple for you because, let’s face it, you’re probably developmentally challenged. Jesus, is that what I’m supposed to call them now? “Developmentally challenged?” Fucking hell, ever since the civil rights act got passed… Anyway whatever, my “developmentally challenged” readers, the point is that I’m not going to dick around with lists and bullshit. The Salmon P.S. Bartholomew program is a one step program, bitches! That’s right: One Goddamn Step. So put away your watomellon and let’s get started.

Okay, this next bit is the most important thing you will get out of this book. The rest is just filler. I’m not kidding. Okay, you ready? Here it is, revelation time:

You are a fucking loser.

There. There it is, I said it. I don’t care who you are, you are a goddamn fucking loser. Don’t get all butt hurt you fucking pussy. I don’t care how rich, successful or well-groomed you are; you are a fucking cock-mouthed loser. Haven’t you ever seen Fight Club? Remember the tag line of that movie? I believe it was: “You are not special, you retard fucking loser asshole.” Brad Pitt was in that movie. And if he’s not special, then who the fuck is? Not you, piss cheese.

No, what you need to wrap your dumbass little brain around is the fact that you aren’t any big who-haw, but just some schmuck with erectile dysfunction. I don’t care if you’re a woman, you have E.D. too you condescending bitch. Everyone does.

You know how I know you’re a fucking loser? Because you bought this book. Or, well, you’re reading it for free on the internet. Either way makes you a fucking loser. (Seriously, getting shit for free on the internet? What are you, stuck in 2010? It’s all about PayPal now, bitch. That shit’s the rage.) And fundamental step 1 of getting your life on track is this:

Step 1: Stop Being Such a Fucking Loser.

That’s it. That’s all you need to do. Are you tired of things not going your way? Are you tired of people walking all over you? Are you tired of continuing to go nowhere in life? Well then stop. Being. A. Fucking. Loser. It’s not hard, goddamn it. Just do that one little tiny thing and your life will be entirely different. I fucking guarantee it. Fuck.