4 Romantic Books to Disgust and Annoy Your Lover

Some articles require a lengthy explanation in order to give the reader a context in which to view them. This is not one of those. What I am doing here is simple: I'm proving, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that romance guru and best-selling author of 1001 Ways to be Romantic, Gregory J.P. Godek is the stupidest, laziest waste of stem cells to ever "write" a book. Every time Godek's semeny, pizza-covered fingers touch his keyboard, the world's collective I.Q. drops.

This book focuses on the sexy side of romance. And since Godek's idea of sexy is puns and massaging his lover while she digests Papa John's, that can really mean anything.

Godek's wife is so closed up that he has to have sex through a funnel. He calls it a quickie because he can only get it in if he has enough distance to build up to full speed.

Yes, Godek suggested you have sex in front of a cardboard cutout of a celebrity and pretend they're watching. I'm not sure if that's because he's batshit fucking crazy or because even first base feels filthy when Michael Jackson is there. My biggest problem with this advice, aside from the fact that it's nuts, is that it makes me stop sex every 3 minutes. Because every time I take my eyes off him, I have to go over and check if the real Jean-Claude Van Damme secretly switched places with the cardboard Jean-Claude Van Damme. He probably didn't, but oh my god, what if he did!?

Good eye, Godek. You noticed some sexual meaning in a song called "Deeper and Deeper" on an album called "Erotica." But you know what I noticed? I noticed that you suddenly stopped in the middle of your sex advice book to review a Madonna album. Let's hope your wife is less observant than me, sailor.

Five minutes to shop for lingerie, Godek? Not all of us can just walk in and scream, "My wife will take your largest pair of panties! And a pizza of her choice!" And I don't think men are allowed to sprint through a lingerie store grabbing underwear. That's probably the very first thing mall security guards are trained to stop.

She'll love that! I have a feeling you'll soon have it down to zero!

Great. Now she either has to figure out a polite way to guess "butt hair and pickles," or we sit here all night with her eating pickles out of my ass.

When Godek and his wife leave a restaurant, all the silverware they touched has to be destroyed. There is so much pubic bacteria on their hands that hailing a cab is like hitting it with 50 wet diapers.

I give Godek a lot of shit for being a goddamned idiot, but look right there: he managed to figure out that the most popular lingerie chain in the world sells lingerie. Which means, hold on... if he thinks we don't know what a Victoria's Secret is now at #123, then why did he suggest we charge through one grabbing panties at #38? This fucking guy is up to something.

Well yeah, Godek, that's just common sense when you're married to a cockatrice. But I just bought a Jose Canseco cardboard cutout to watch me make love, and I'll be damned if I'm going let it go to waste by closing my eyes. Wait a minute, why is Godek trying to get me nude and blind around Jose Canseco?

What could be more romantic than a word, selected at random from all of language? Statistically speaking, almost all things.

"It's time for our lovemaking, lover. Get the dictionary. And prepare yourself for... for...

diarrhea [dahy-uh-ree-uh] -noun an intestinal disorder characterized by abnormal frequency and fluidity of fecal evacuations. Well, here we go, honey."

Surprise, bored married couple. You just got Godek'ed.

This book claims to be filled with fun ideas for dates, but most of it is lists of Top 40 love songs. The dating tips aren't even clever enough to be called obvious. If you know what food is and how to get to it, you've already learned everything Godek will ever teach you. However, his stream-of-consciousness style does give primatologists an unprecedented look at monkey brain logic.

Godek re-used this tip four years later in his book Enchanted Evenings because it's the best thing he's ever thought of. Gregory J.P. Godek is the reason the terrorists hate our freedom. Mohammed Ahta was just some Lutheran named Mike Jenkins playing miniature golf before Godek and his wife showed up.

What is this nonsense, Godek? A list of places you can go to not be the biggest pussy in the room? Locations where they haven't thought to crack down on child predators? I thought you were writing a book about romance; this is neither romantic nor writing. You fucking hack idiot, you couldn't write the instruction manual for a butt plug.

I like how Godek just assumes we also like to date 5-year-old boys. This idiot has got to be the only man alive who thinks drawing a connection between a song about choo-choos and an actual choo-choo is clever in any way. It's like scientists built him out of the worst qualities of scrapbookers and sex offenders.

These romance tips are so moronic that I'm kind of getting the idea that anyone can do it.

Step One: Buy your lover a Milli Vanilli album.

Step Two: Spend the night blaming the rain together.

See? Nothing to it.

Because a fish course always tastes best when it's served on a toilet. If I ever had any doubt that Godek wasn't just typing any damn thing that popped into his head, it's officially gone.

That's adorable, Godek. You know, when your wife finally beats you to death, this is what her lawyer will use to clear her name.

Truly that's sound advice that will stand the test of time.

There is so much sperm in Godek's leftovers that he needs an abortion doctor to defrost his freezer.

Talking to a woman on Superbowl Sunday!? But that's a day associated with male gender roles! Oh, where is a female standup from the '80s when we need one! Waitwait, I've got one: Those men. Let me tell you, my husband pays so little attention to me when the Superbowl is on, I've started leaving maxi pads in the toilet just so he'll scream at me during bathroom breaks.

Let me tell you about the hatred I have for Godek. He writes like it's the side effect of a stroke. He is so witless and humorless that 83 of his puns have charged him with rape. When he and his wife get naked, they're more pizza than flesh and that's not even why birds try to kill them. My hate for him is so personal, so vivid... and I earned that sweet hate over the course of a dozen of his fucking dumbass books. So I'm especially pissed off that there's a waiter out there watching him pretend to be a German tourist, and in five seconds he'll hate Godek more than I ever can.