Friday, November 2, 2007

So going to read this to my children next time; yes, I plan to have children lol. Also written by me, although admittedly some parts come from other books like the Alphabet of Manliness, which I incidentally recommend to any guy. A enjoyable, fun-filled ride that carries its reader from start to end. Hurray for generic book reviews. I don't recommend the Alphabet of Manliness for women though, as Section E and O aren't very flattering lol. Anyway, here goes.

Little Red Riding Hood was not really her real name; she was actually called Natalia Serova. But no one had called her that for such a long time that no one remembered. As such, she was named for her rather signature red hood, although oddly enough, it did little riding. The ‘Riding’ in “Little Red Riding Hood” has no discernable origins.
On to the story anyway. Red Riding Hood’s father was never mentioned, and as such we shall declare him legally missing. Her mother held two jobs, to support her daughter and her own mother, and as such had little time for the upbringing of Red Riding Hood. This task was left to their grandmother, until she had a bout of insanity and fled their home, gibbering crazily, and vanished into the woods. After two weeks of searching, county police located her deep in the forest, having constructed a ramshackle cabin for herself. However, no amount of persuading could bring her out of the woods, and so Red Riding Hood was left without proper upbringing, resulting in her hanging out with the wrong crowd and adopting their dressing style, including a red hoodie. However, her grandmother had made a deep impact on her when she was younger, and as a result, Red Riding Hood took it upon herself to visit her dear grandmother one day.
Loading her basket with food, she happily set out, heedless of the fact that her grandmother’s body probably could not tolerate the high-oil content of the food she packed. Following the trail designated by the police so many years ago, Red Riding Hood went on her way. Now in the woods, there lived an extremely cunning wolf. Scientists and animal rights activists would doubtless have been intrigued by a wolf capable of talking and demonstrating human emotions and reasoning, had they known about it. But they did not. So they were not intrigued. Nonetheless, such a wolf existed, and he observed Red Riding Hood’s progress through the woods. Deducing her destination, he decided to run ahead of her and play a prank.
Being able to run on four legs, the wolf reached the grandmother’s cabin ahead of Red Riding Hood. Now as the grandmother had gone bonkers, she could not and had not installed a reasonable security system, and it was with no difficulty that the wolf opened the door, possessing the intelligence to turn the door knob. The old woman stared at the wolf for a moment, and their gazes locked. The wolf could feel the tension in the air as he waited for the old dame to realize he was a threat, and she opened her mouth to scream “Я вижу вас, вас фашистский немец! Для Motherland!” before brandishing an antiquated Mosin-Nagant. The wolf sensed the danger and moved immediately.
Shortly afterwards, the bones were stashed in the wardrobe and the wolf quickly dressed up in the recently-deceased geriatric’s clothes. The buttons presented a minor problem as the wolf had no opposable thumbs on his paws, but eventually he just pulled the dressing robe closed. Hardly had he settled in bed when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called. Where the wolf learned to speak, and how he even had vocal chords that could form those words, we will never know. Regardless, Little Red Riding Hood came in. It had been a long time since she had seen her grandmother, and her memories of her were hazed with time.
“My, what big eyes you have grandma!”
“I read in poor lighting.”
“What big ears you have!”
“You should see my earphones.”
“What big teeth you have grandma!”
“I have an excellent dental plan.”
“Do all women get as hairy as you when they reach your age grandma?”
“You cheeky bugger!” The wolf leapt out of bed, intent on devouring the girl for this slight. Truth be told, the wolf was rather full, and his jaw ached from chewing such tough meat earlier, but he had a reputation to maintain. Little Red Riding Hood fled the cabin screaming, with the wolf hot on her heels.
It just so happened that a lumberjack was thundering by at that moment, on his way home after gathering enough hippies to use as firewood. As Red Riding Hood ran by screaming, he considered eating her, but decided that whatever was chasing her would probably be more filling. So he lashed his raging bull to a nearby tree and dismounted. That may have made no sense to you, but the primary mode of transportation for a lumberjack is by bull. While ordinary bulls eat grass and antibiotics, a lumberjack’s bull feeds on steroids and endangered species. The reason their bulls are fed endangered species is because lumberjacks are proponents of ecological diversity. There are only two major groups in the animal kingdom: endangered species, and non-endangered species. If endangered species were allowed to procreate and re-establish their populations as they please, then they would no longer be endangered, and the only kind of animal we’d have left is the plain old non-endangered kind. So we would lose an entire category of animals, leaving us only one, and having only one category is not diverse by any measure of the imagination.
Having made sure his bull would not run away, the lumberjack hefted the small tree that he used as a javelin and stepped forward. Now a lumberjack is a man who jacks lumber. Chopping down trees is all they think about. If there were no trees to chop down, lumberjacks would cease to exist. And yet, lumberjacks have so much contempt for trees that they are willing to sacrifice their very existence to help win the war against nature. Trees are everywhere. It’s getting to the point of where you can’t even go to a park anymore without seeing a tree. If lumberjacks didn’t cut down trees, the trees would overwhelm us and take over the world. Then where would we raise our families and park our cars? In the forest? Wishful thinking, and it might even work if it weren’t for one small detail: Bears.
Hardly had the lumberjack taken a step forward when the wolf, hot on the heels of Red Riding Hood, careened into him. This massive specimen of Man looked down to see what had hit his knees, and the wolf stared up in awe. “Come now, surely as reasonable creatures we can come to an agreement?” The lumberjack glared stonily and the wolf, then rumbled and rubbed his stomach. The wolf let out a small whimper and tried to escape; big mistake. The lumberjack lifted the wolf into the air with his mind, spun him around, and digested him telekinetically. And the lumberjack wasn’t even hungry. Sobbing with relief, Red Riding Hood clung to the back of the lumberjack’s knee, thanking him profusely. The huge man was puzzled; does she want milk? Does she need to be burped? Did she eat something off the floor that upset her stomach? Undecided as to what to do, the lumberjack lifted her off the floor and gave her several back-breaking pats on the back, before setting her down and telling her to sod off or he’d eat her too. The last thing Red Riding Hood heard as she turned on her way home was the enraged roaring of the bull and the ground-shaking pounding as it galloped away.

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