Would the real Paul Murray please stand up?

One of the numerous things that make classes with Frank "Frankyboy" Newman so sweet is his habit to say "May I have your attention please. May I have your attention please".
Because, no matter how hard I try, I just can't help imaging my teacher speaking into a microphone, watched by a tiny, pissed off-looking nurse and a horde of men in straitjackets with  shaved heads. But, however, there's  still another guy  except from The Real Slim Shady who I'd like to stand up: Paul Murray.

A few years ago, I read something in a magazine about Murray's second (and latest) book Skippy dies. As a kind of morbid teenager obsessed with anything that had to do with honorable Sir Grim Reaper, I asked my parents if I could have it for christmas, and Daniel "Skippy" Juster and the bunch of weirdos he calls friends soon also became my friends. 

What's most exciting about Murray is how he manages to make his characters so incredibly realistic. The way they fuck up, fall in love, try to get through life somehow, their feelings, their charmingly sick sense of humor - it's wonderful, it's marvellous, and it's incredibly authentic, so authentic that it is hard to believe that all this was written by a 35 year-old bookseller and not a lanky young boy worried about spots and wether his parents will find about about the sticks secrets hidden in his browsing history. I've never been a teenage boy, but if so, I certainly would have had conversations like this one where a student is asked something in history class:

 '(...)Mario?''What?' Mario Bianchi's head snaps up from whatever he is attending to, probably his phone, under the desk. 'Oh, it was . . . it was – ow, stop – sir, Dennis is feeling my leg! Stop feeling me, feeler!''Stop feeling his leg, Dennis.''I wasn't, sir!' Dennis Hoey, all wounded innocence.           (...)
'Yes, Mario?''Uh . . .' Mario prevaricates. 'Well, Italy . . .''Italy was in charge of the catering,' Niall Henaghan suggests.'Hey,' Mario warns.'Sir, Mario calls his wang Il Duce,' says Dennis.'Sir!''Dennis.''But he does – you do, I've heard you. "Time to rise, Duce," you say. "Your people await you, Duce."''At least I have a wang, and am not a boy with . . . Instead of a wang, he has just a blank piece of . . .''I feel we're straying off the point here,' Howard intervenes.

This is such a great literary tribute to all the little teenage dirtbags out there. 
 And in the end, they will all rise and stand up - just like the real Paul Murray.

#FrankNewman #PaulMurray #Skippydies #therealslimshady

First post of all time: Feeling fucked up with Jim Knipfel

Let's be honest: What's so great about weekends? Working, coming home, watching TV, sleeping late and starving because you spent all of your parents' money on shoes and sugary cereals - until you realize it's monday and you have to breathe into a paper bag because you haven't studied again and are afraid your teachers will start to hate you because you keep taking naps in class. Not to mention your classmates who have written a book or saved the world (or at least done their homework) while you were lying on the sofa thinking about wether you should get up to shower or not.

For all those of you who are too lazy to wash their hair in the morning and can't stand happy people, there is hope out there. I don't call him the Messiah, but he's pretty close to that: GORGEOUS AND GRUMPY JIM KNIPFEL, author of charmingly misanthropic novels such as Slackjaw and Ruining it for Everybody.

What makes Knipfel's novels so great is that they will make you feel better, no matter what a terrible person you are at the moment. Wearing odd hats, shouting around and coughing like you'll drop dead with blood in the corner of your mouth (having a cold sucks when your mother's not around to bring you tea and Disney videos) - by now, that's not creepy anymore, it makes you the second coolest person in the world right after ol' Jim.

Spending your weekend at proms thinking about for how long you'd go to jail for puhing somebody down the stairs - cool. Asking people for money and never giving it back - cool. Being asked wether you're sure about not being bipolar after you've burst into tears watching a South Park-episode about lice - GOD, I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW COOL YOU ARE, MAN!

I'm not saying that acting like an aggressive sociopath is good. I'm also pretty sure that the real Jim Knipfel is a wonderful man donating tons of money to the NRA and watching the Waltons every day, but reading his books definitely is the best medicine when you feel like an antisocial creep once again.

So just lean back with your can of beer, pretend having Tourette and relax while little kids on the bus start to cry.

Feeling fucked up can feel so good.

#JimKnipfel #literature #misanthropy