extended summary:
"Your biffled jargon offends me, plebeian. I have nothing against gays, nor do I have anything against people of colour. Don't let my macho-handyman-super-jacked-up-high-school-sports-star-unabashed-khaki-pants-brown-loafers-combo facade fool you. The future-frat clique doesn't interest me. Only your butt does."
...
He won't get his class under control. He won't make friends apart from the shamelessly unique school misfit. He won't serve sandwiches to the student body without lacing them with laxatives, at least once (maybe twice). Oscar Glyde won't do anything, really. He won't even heal your goddamn, super-duper annoying (but fiendishly sexy) pride.
But internal friction requires more of Oscar, and the rest of the students at Atenamal high. Ronny and the Racial Raptors are on the loose, savaging the decency in humanity one hateful beating at a time. A loosely connected club of mysterious students are planning a divisive purge of sanity. And at the forefront of it all, school-speaker and resident cutie-pie Fender Brail is cooking up a big old pot of sexual controversy, amoung other hot topics.
The school is dividing, and one kid at a time is learning that when you take the 'team' out of Atenamal, all you're left with is, well, 'Anal'. And the rallying cries of at least half of them can't let that happen - not on their watch.
...
note from the author:
I'm going to have to start this off by saying the transcendent moment when this book reached 69 reads was truly the peak of this era of my writing career.
Next, I'm going to have to admit that I'm a solid cocktail of bullshit, metaphor and social justice warrior (garnished with a smattering of angst and gay). If you squeeze me, the juices I excrete are laced with LSD, B12, and salt from the tears of my mortal enemy.
I only have one mortal enemy.
It's myself.
Anyways, I write a lot of serious stuff. Humour doesn't come naturally to me like it used to, back when I was twelve and cool. I think I need something in my arsenal of fuckery that has just the right balance of humour, easiness, simplicity, complexity, gay, hate crimes, sexual innuendos, butt jokes, mental illness, and made-up words that you Google anyways because they sound suspiciously familiar. Crack open your scales, bitches, and let the balancing begin.
Love,
Tommy Fawcett
...
warning:
This book contains explicit language, depictions of violence, depictions of racism and homophobia, depictions of bullying, sexuality, and weird jokes that you won't understand. Read at your own risk.
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Oscar Glyde Won't Heal Your Pride
HumorHe won't get his class under control. He won't make friends apart from the shamelessly unique school misfit. He won't serve sandwiches to the student body without lacing them with laxatives, at least once (maybe twice). Oscar Glyde won't do anything...
