Jared Larsen. Centrism book launch. Tonight at 6:00 pm at Comrad Sound.
Oh, hey, look, there's a Facebook page about it, maybe you should click here and find out what's going on. What's that? You can't read? That's okay, it's a book of pictures!
Jared's that guy at Beano who looks like he'd be equally at home either telling you about the gnarly wave he just nailed off the coast of Maui or sharing with you the good news about his personal lord and saviour, Jesus Christ; the irony is that he probably wouldn't talk to you about either of these things in real life, as he's so skinny that he'd snap in two if he even looked at a surfboard, and you can often hear him grumbling about how Jesus owes him five bucks. Regardless, Jared's pretty approachable, is what I'm trying to say, and he's just published his first book of photos, and you should sell all of your Dean Koontz and Tom Clancy novels so that you can give him $30.00 for it.
His book, Centrism, is all about choices. It's about what happens when people stop being nice, and start being Real. Mad real, yo. It's about the love that's shared between a man and a woman and John Wayne, and about that small niggling doubt you have in the back of your mind that asks if you remembered to turn the stove off when you left the house this morning. It's about the death of Santa Claus, and how the culprit is most likely Glenn Beck. It's about America, people. Mad America.
The book launch promises to be pretty fun, with readings from Josh Barsky (The Nicest Angriest Man In The World), Micah Stone (He of A Thousand Bad Jokes and One Good One) and Sean Macalister (aka Mistah Rubbahface!), as well as music by some street urchins to whom we've paid good money to look both heartbreaking and heartwarming. There's a suggested donation of $5.00 at the door, but it's just that: a suggestion. I know how cheap y'all can be sometimes.
I will not be attending, as I have to man the fort at Beano and serve swill to men with too much money and too little fashion sense, and women who really should know better. I will most likely be in the back room with my ears glued to the radio, listening to the hockey game and wondering if my heart can take any more disappointment, so you probably don't want to bother me, as I'll most likely throw a demitasse spoon at you.
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