Not Your Phocking MOTIVATIONAL Coach: The Most Offensive Self-Help Book You Will Ever Read

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From the earliest days of our youth, we are schooled in the national myth of freedom, of a personal liberation we can and must achieve. They tell us to Be yourself! Do your thing! Do you! Be you! You go, girl! Get ‘em, boys! Tell the world to take a number, get in line, and kiss the cellulite-ridden cottage-cheese ass you live your life in front of courtesy of the obesity crisis! Think—as they themselves refuse to do in employing so tired a cliche—outside the box! Until, that is, you actually do go ahead and follow this advice—that’s when you’ll find that they really don’t want you to be yourself. No, your wife, husband, your friends, mommy and daddy, your kiddies, your colleagues, the good people of the world and even Jesus Christ Himself: they want you to be who they want you to be, to live how they want you to live, and to pork like they want you to pork, which usually ends up looking something like—Saturday night, missionary position, simultaneous orm on the connubial couch. But what if, in the backseat of your car, you want to clutch fistfuls of your wife’s hair while dumping the 57 ropes of cum you’ve been brewing for the last two weeks into her tight, empurpled starfish of a butthole, exulting in thrill of risky semi-public sex while oblivious families picnic nearby? What if you want to invite your old college bros to the office for a wild afternoon of bukkakeing your secretary, cum all over her face and hair and tits and glasses, and all over the Danish that she is obliged to wash down, bite by bite, with a steaming, foaming cup of cum coffee? What if you want to hire an escort and dick slap her for ten minutes straight while she sings the National Anthem? Or what if you’re a chick and are in a mood to drop 15 clams on a set of ginormous, 88 Triple F porn-star tits, for no reason other than that you like the feeling of cocks sliding between them, and the more jiggle and amplitude, the better? Never mind that you will henceforth be obliged to walk with your torso at a 45 degree angle. And never mind that you will almost certainly never be elected president of the PTA. Or maybe you’ve decided that you’re in possession of so much love, that one other person is simply incapable of processing it all; and you’ve therefore decided to give polyamory a roll of the dice. Or maybe you wake up after 55 years of life and 25 years of respectable marriage only to find that, well, you’re a flaming sexual, and if you don’t go and bugger a cabana boy in the next 24 hours, you’re going to feel some type of way, indeed? I’m here to tell you that you can do any of these things—indeed, anything at all, from tame to extreme, so long as your desires are legal, con, respectful for all involved. I am not concerned with morality. I am concerned with your liberation, your happiness, with the fact that when you die you are going to be dead for a very long time. And you see where I’m going with this. The choice is yours, dear reader: live a life of quiet desperation and run up perhaps a college- education’s worth of psychiatrist bills, passing out each night in a Valium stupor in front of the TV, your ill-used dick more or less dead in your shit- stained tightie-whities. Or lead a life of rich, joyous, exhilarating, life- and self-affirming sexual adventure. This would seem to me, as they say, to be a no-brainer. Inside, 1. STARTLING SECRETS...MAN IN MIDLIFE CRISIS JOINS NEW AGE SEX CULT. WIFE FINDS FREEDOM. 2. AN ANCIENT SECRET TO SUCCESS...BORED HOUSEWIFE MEETS TATTOOTED EX-CON AND FINDS LIBERATION BEHIND THE KFC/TACO BELL FAST FOOD JOINT. 3.TURNING FAILURES INTO HEALING...MAN FINDS HAPPINESS BY HAVING PROSTITUTES SHIT ON HIM. 4. THE PROSPERITY SECRETS OF THE AGES...ROBBING BANKS IF ALL YOU WANT IS A MILLION DOLLARS. 5. SEX IS A SUCCESS POWER...SHELDON THE ACCOUNTANT GETS FACE PHOCKED LIKE A TENDER VEAL SHANK. REMEMBER, YOU CAN HAVE EVERYTHING!