How to Archer
Page 10
74 Seriously. HarperCollins is far enough up my ass already.
75 Hi, welcome to England: we have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing.
76 Seriously, how long does it take to pick up a bag of oranges?
77 I am going to beat Woodhouse with that bag of oranges.
78 Duh.
79 Seriously, thirty seconds after Woodhouse walks in the door with those oranges he will be bleeding internally.
80 Woodhouse, the creaking old fiend, has some heroin stashed somewhere in here. But to be honest, I probably have enough addictions as it is. Also, I just assume it’s hidden in his room somewhere, and the thought of even crossing the threshold of that foul little cell fills me with equal parts nausea and dread. Plus, I don’t like needles.
81 Exactly not unlike Messrs. French and Belvedere.
82 Although those probably weren’t the best two rhyming examples to use; they look pretty similar. Sorry
83 Hey, where do you guys get your checks? Will the bank or whoever let you have king cobras printed on them?
84 Unless that tie is knotted in a half-Windsor. If this is the case, you are probably a child and thus should not be reading this book. Although if you are a child, and have made it this far (without skipping ahead!) you’re probably going to eventually become an absolutely kickass man-adult, so keep reading: pretty soon we get into whores.
85 Which you probably call Florence. Because I still want to murder you.
86 Me.
87 Don’t ask me what kind of elk, I have no idea. But I just assume it’s a German one; the blade was made there, and historically the Germans have been pretty good at maximizing economies of scale. Just usually in really horrifying ways.
88 Because I feel like I’ve been pretty blabby. Secrets-wise.
89 That sounded a lot less racist in my head.
90 If she happens to be more stunning, it is perfectly acceptable to dump your date and ask the hostess to dine with you.
91 I’ve also had some success posing as Boz Scaggs. Two people the Abracadabra will not work with, however, are Bob Seger (because people are pretty sure you’re supposed to have a beard) and Jethro Tull (because he’s dead).
92 Because I don’t have a vagina.
93 Plus this isn’t a cookbook.
94 In your defense, I can see how the book’s title is maybe a little misleading.
95 You strike me as the sort of person who would be caught dead on a bus.
96 You also strike me as the sort of person who works in a place where they have lockers.
97 Note: I did not include this phrase in Arabic. This was not because I do not find Arabic women sexy. In fact, quite the opposite. I did not include it because, A) this stupid word-processing software turned the Arabic phrase into wingdingery gibberish, and B) even if you’re as sexy as I am, no matter how much an Arabic woman wants to have sex with you, she doesn’t want it enough to get her buried up to her neck in sand and pummeled in the face with rocks all afternoon.
98 If she takes her work seriously, she’ll have a rate-card.
99 Not unlike a real relationship. Am I right, fellas?
100 I actually don’t vote at all. To learn more about this interesting fact, please turn the page.
101 No. (Duh.)
102 This is because I normally gain four to five ounces of unsightly winter fat every year, which all seems to go straight to my face, and I feel the wider lapel helps to balance the overall look. Although now that I think about it, I have dozens of fall/winter suits which are entirely separate and different from my dozens of spring/summer suits, so to pay to have them all altered is actually pretty stupid. See? We can all do a little better when it comes to saving.
103 Little Baby El-Ro, we called him.
104 Thailand used to be called Siam. Conjoined twins used to be called Siamese twins, because the first (well-known) conjoined twins, Chang and Eng, were from Siam. They made a pile of money working in freak shows, moved to America and bought a huge farm in North Carolina, married two sisters with whom they had a total of twenty-one children (ten for Chang and eleven for Eng), and owned a bunch of slaves. All of which I find pretty darn fascinating.
105 Who writes this? Wait, what? You’re shitting me.
106 And his last. This whole thing was a huge pain in the ass.107
107 Shit. That’s only 29,797 words. Okay, so now we’re doing this: cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra cobra. There. Now fuck off, HarperCollins.