Kicked in the ballbag?

Ballbag — A Scratching Review

For an optimal experience, scratch your balls (or boobs) while reading this review

I love reading books, but nothing makes me happier than reading one written by a friend.

I get to support them AND discover new sides of their personae. Reading a book by someone you know is a deep dive into their soul. It’s humbling. A friend who wrote a book takes a special place in your heart.

When I learned Frank T Bird had published his first opus, I was ecstatic.

I bought¹ his book and read² it right away.

Now, I don’t always write reviews for my writer friends because it’s hard to remain objective. But in Frank’s case, I had to. Frankie and I are more than writer friends; we’re both members of the single-handed mile-high club. We both masturbated above 10,000 feet.

That has to mean something.

When I called³ Frank, he insisted I should write a spoiler-free review

“I can’t say anything about the book?! But, Frank!! That’s a shame. It’s such a good book. I’d love to add some quotes to my review. People need to know!”

“Well, they can [redacted] buy the [redacted] book if they [redacted] want to know what’s inside. Can’t they? [redacted]”

[I redacted out the ‘fucking’ and ‘fuckers’ from the text above for decency. It’s sad, but it’s the only way Frank knows to express himself, as you can witness firsthand in this article by John Edward. Or in any article written by Frank. Or in his book.]

I didn’t enjoy the idea of a spoiler-free review

When I review movies, I always give plot details. For example, I reviewed all the Top Gun movies and didn’t hesitate to tell my readers that [spoilers] Tom Cruise was smiling and wearing sunglasses, even when flying the fighter jets.

When I review books, I usually do the same. But I was ready to make a sacrifice for Frankie.

That’s what masturbating friends do.

Ballbag — a short spoiler-free review

Ballbag is a book written by Frank T. Bird. It has 129 pages and is ranked #290,477 in Kindle Store⁴. Buy it now before it’s too late!

Ballbag — a longer spoiler-free review

Reading Ballbag is a mystical experience. It’s dancing under the waning moon, holding a bottle of Bishops Finger, and wearing shoes of different colors. It’s an opening to an alternate dimension where rainbows have sexual intercourse with clouds and give birth to fluffy unicorns.

In Ballbag, Frankie wraps us in his scrotum and takes us on a trip around the world like a mamma kangaroo would with her babies. It’s soft and comfy. It smells a bit weird, but it reminds us of the good old times when school was closed and the fields were full of drunk chipmunks playing hopscotch.

Ballbag is the sort of book that will make you call your grandma and tell her how much you love her. It’s a book that gives you no choice but to write a review and tell everybody what a fantastic time you had reading⁵ it.

One can measure the quality of a book by the number of reviews it gets. Ballbag already has two more:

Footnotes:

¹ That’s a lie; I didn’t buy it.

² That’s also a lie, but less than the first one. I read the few pages available for free.

³ Also a lie. I don’t have his number. I don’t know him.

⁴ At the time of writing. After this scratching review, the ranking should be much better.

⁵ I still didn’t read more than the few pages available for free, and I suspect Mike Knittel didn’t either.

Would you like me to review your book? I’m available for hire here if you want to pay. Or there if you don’t want.