Sneak preview Wednesday!

Note: Paul is honored to bring you an exclusive sneak preview of John Grisham's next novel. This is considered a groundbreaking novel, for it is completely different than anything Grisham has written in the past. It's been described by those fortunate enough to read it as youthful, vibrant, and edgy. Of course, the novel is unfinished, so this excerpt could be altered or cut completely from the final version. The novel is tentatively titled, "It's Not Realistic or Logical For The Main character To Die When He's Narrating in Past Tense, But I'm John Grisham And I'll Sell A Million Copies Regardless. Oops, I Just Gave Away The Ending In The Title". Enjoy.

It was a scorching summer day, and my car stereo was fuming like a roasted kitten in a microwave. I brushed the lukewarm sweat off my brow and inserted my favorite Daft Punk album, "Homework", into the CD player. Techno had died many years before, but I wasn't ready to leave it. There were far too many memories from that sweet, rhythmic music that I wasn't ready to abandon.

Like the time Steven Goodspeed took too much ecstacy, and couldn't stop playing with himself. Or the time Rod Poonfort got tossed out of Denny's for throwing poop at the waitress. Or when Larry Butnas was thrown out of that nightclub for molesting a turtle in the restroom. Yes, techno music has been the soundtrack for some of my most pleasant memories.

Daft Punk is extra special, because that's what was playing when I first killed a man with my bare hands. His name was Todd Fartner, and he was sorry for stealing my Jell-O pudding cup in high school. But not sorry enough.

As I drove along, I pumped my fist to the beats of the music while running over small children with my Ford Fiesta. Ah, summer. The wind slapped against my face with authority, and each bump in the road equaled another bump in life's plan which I had bypassed. I giggled as another spoiled child played victim to my treaded tires.

But it was time to retire the Daft Punk CD for the day. Techno is best enjoyed in moderation, like Pamela Anderson movies or nude photos of Abe Vigoda. I pushed the eject button softly, like I was pushing an old lady down the stairs. The CD emerged, so hot it was steaming, like two midgets humping in a pillowcase.

But I grabbed the CD carelessly while removing it, and my precious Daft Punk album snagged on the side of the casing and broke in half. My heart sank while my temper rose. My rage boiled at a high temperature on this dark day! My vocals rang higher than any recorded decibel, and my lungs screamed until they turned purple and sore! Oh, tragedy! Oh, heartless wench of a world! There will be no tomorrow! There will be no Daft Punk glory from here on! All that was left was a useless and rightfully dusty Prodigy album, and the Groove Armada CD which I had left at home, oh so very far away.

My life crumbled before my eyes, with my vision following close behind, falling away, piece by piece into darkness. No more Daft Punk meant no more pleasure, so why should I care to live?!? Die, clumsy man! Die, miserable cretin! Die, me! DIE, ME!

I grabbed the thin steering wheel and turned sharply, smashing my vehicle into a brick wall at 100 mph. I was dead. Really freakin' dead.

Wednesday Music Spotlight. Last weekend I went to the Warped Tour, and one of the coolest bands there was Tsunami Bomb. They've got a female lead singer who not only can scream loud, but can also sing pretty well.

Their latest album came out last year, but I figured it was worth checking out regardless.

Reader Comments

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bec      Dec 31, 1969 • 4:00pm   John wrote one of my favorite books--the Client:) Interesting column. The Immortal Beloved      Dec 31, 1969 • 4:00pm   If Paul CAN read, this is sad proof. The Flash      Dec 31, 1969 • 4:00pm   John Grisham, Wow. I didn\'t know Paul could read... Katers      Dec 31, 1969 • 4:00pm   John Grisham would be proud . . . .

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