the whole point of everything, ever

Expanding horizons, schmexpanding schmorizons. There is one reason and one reason only you want to know a lot about literature: it helps you get laid. Admit it: a well-appropriated quote or allusion can score you that formerly-frigid neophyte in a dangerous phase every time. And while everyone knows their Kerouacs (blech) and their TS Eliots (too morose), the Kafka alluder is especially sexually desirable. You are brooding, yet witty; shy, yet deep; wise, yet despairing. The problem is, who has time to “read” all of those “books”? I mean, The Lizzie Maguire Movie is coming out on DVD for chrissakes–reading can wait!!!!!!!

Luckily for all of you, I have done all the work and culled the most appropriate Kafka reference for every occasion. If you want all the chicks, dudes, guys, girls, penises and vaginas you can handle, just use the handy reference guide that follows. And remember, Kafka died at 40 and he DIDN’T have to–use protection!*

IF YOU ARE trying to unlock the great mysteries of life in front of someone attractive at a cocktail party…
THEN say:

    You know, Kafka once said: “The true way leads along a tightrope, stretched not aloft but just above the ground. It seems designed more to trip one than to be walked along.”

IF YOU ARE trying to show that you are interested in more than sex…
THEN say:

    You know, Kafka once wrote about sex: “This coitus is punishment for being together.”

IF YOU ARE showing your deep appreciation for artsy bullshit…
THEN say:

    Well, as Kafka used to say: “a book should be the ax for the frozen sea within us.”

IF YOU ARE answering any innocent question snottily…
THEN say:

    “’Give it up! Give it up!’ he said, and then turned away, like a man who wants to be alone with his laughter.”

IF YOU ARE using empathy to charm someone who’s despairing…
THEN say:

    Kafka once wrote: “For we are like tree trunks in the snow. In appearance they lie sleekly and a little push should be enough to let them rolling. No, it can’t be done, for they are firmly wedded to the ground. But see, even that is only appearance.”

You now hold in your very brain the power to wrangle as much bonking as you can handle. I have bestowed upon you a gift, haven’t I? Haven’t I? Don’t you think you should bestow upon me a gift as well? A gift of $1 American to put upon a stage near you (if you are in Manhattan) a positively razzle dazzle adaptation of THE TRIAL? Then why not click on the “donate your dubloons to a total stranger” link at the top righth of this page and get me out of your hair once and for all?

And remember, next time you have sex, think of Franz Kafka’s penis.

*Techincally, Kafka died of something called “tuberculosis,” which some asshole doctor just told me is not a kind of VD. But you know what I mean.

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