Creeping along the walls of my home is an ever-expanding library of books by and for the deranged. I don't want to terrify you, but I know every secret of the ninja, and my section on metaphysical breast augmentation is far more than any one sexy man could masturbate to in a lifetime. Ten sexy men, maybe. Fifteen sexy men, absolutely, but at this point we're causing more masturbation problems than we're solving.
Simply unlock the other 90 percent of your brain for a larger bust! That's right, the script to Lucy was a book about giant titties all along.
As my book collection grew, I started to notice that there were certain authors who not only were crazy in very specific ways, but stayed that way their whole life. You might have read about self-appointed love guru and enemy of all self-lubrication Gregory Godek. He wrote the same romance guide over and over in order to prove two things. One, he's a nutbag. And two, there are really only a couple ways to finger a woman filled with pizza.
In the spirit of Gregory Godek, here are five other unhinged "experts" who spent their whole life rewriting the same stupid book:
#5. Joseph Nicolosi, Ph.D.
Author of Four Books on Curing Gay
Joseph Nicolosi is a psychologist who believes homosexuality is the result of a childhood trauma. That means he can treat gay clinically, and he's courageously dedicated his life to curing it.
"Your parents are trying to prevent what? Ha ha ... man, did they leave you in the wrong public park. Now let's pick a fun safe word and get started." -the stranger known only as Handsome Leonard
Most of the world agrees that conversion therapy is ridiculous, so what makes Nicolosi, Ph.D., think differently? Hmmm ... I mean, I didn't write a doctoral thesis on butt stuff, but let me think -- how could a man be certain that there was a way to resist a dong's primal urge to get buried in mustache? Unless ... no. It couldn't ... nahh ...
If gays wanted to be cured and there was a product that did it, the Bravo network would never need a second sponsor. Still, closeted Nicolosi, Ph.D., wrote four books on the subject, zero books on anything else, and claims to have cured 66 percent of his patients. According to my math, that means that for every four balls that go into his office, only one of them ends up in another man's eager mouth. And in regard to that last sentence, hello to all the Bing users who just found this article through a Phil Collins lyrics search. Here's something for you:
The Grammy Award-winning singer-songwriter is right. This gay conversion shit is silly.
When Joseph Nicolosi, Ph.D., says his homosexuality antidote has a 66 percent success rate, what exactly does that mean? I am so glad you asked. One of his books is called Healing Homosexuality: Case Stories of Reparative Therapy, and it's a collection of hand-picked stories about his patients overcoming their gayness. Let me be clear about this before I start: If you had a job doing highlights for butthole hair on the set of a cupcake reality show, your review of this book would be "gayest thing I've ever seen. 1 star."
What's this, gals? Why, it's Steve! Charlie! Edward! Tom! Father John! And look out, single ladies! Because after hard work and intense therapy, they can now resist their homosexual urges! Oh, YEAAAAH!
I've never had the best gaydar. I sometimes don't even know a guy is gay until he asks me why I don't have a boner during an airport restroom wrestling challenge. So it's hard for me to say with any accuracy that Joseph Nicolosi, Ph.D., writes "gayly." But here is how he describes meeting one of the homosexual patients he fixed.
His eyes flashed -- a fierce thrusting of heterosexual male energy bonded us together at once. He entered me like an Olympic diver -- noiselessly and with a nearly imperceptible splash.
I mean, it's subtle, but when straight guys recall meeting someone, they rarely comment on a man's handsomeness and creamy skin before describing every inch of his outfit, how it matched his piercing eyes, and how his body draped so well upon our fashion-forward furniture. Keep in mind this is Joseph Nicolosi, Ph.D., when he's trying to sound not only like a heterosexual, but like an expert on heterosexuality. The first draft was probably eight pages about the generous curve of Thomas James' dick basket as it danced among the long shadows of the magic hour.
Once Joseph is finished describing the girth and flavor of his patients' genitals to the reader, he gives a look inside his therapeutic process. He believes in a technique called Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing, which basically forces the patient to relive painful memories while you shake their eyeballs around. The theory is that it helps them process trauma like your brain normally would during sleeping REM. Clinically speaking, it doesn't work as well as exposure therapy, but when your fear is gay and your doctor is 6 tons of gay stuffed into a 120-pound sack, it's hard to keep "exposure therapy" from going past second base. Here, let me show you what Joseph counts as a "cure":
"I'm cured, doctor! I barely even vomit when I touch her va- ... when I touch her vaaa- ... v-vaaaaa- ... vaBLARRRRGGHH!!!"
This guy, "Albert," came to Nicolosi, Ph.D., with the same tired story. His horrible, broken childhood made him gay. So they explored his most painful memory -- a day when he was picked last for a sports game. The dark memory ate at his soul ... it made him feel like he wasn't one of the guys. There are pages of transcripts from these sessions. That's how gay this book is. Two grown men were sitting around some office so desperate for there to be an answer for their thirst for cock that they decided it had to be kickball shame. Kickball shame. If feeling like an asshole during kickball turned you gay, I'd be carrying show cats to my Prius right now, not carrying 34 kinds of HPV.
So this stupid pussy doctor treated this stupid pussy patient for years until they finally decided he was "cured." And during a follow-up visit years later, he told Dr. Nicolosi that he met a girl at the flower nursery, his favorite part of a woman is her African violet enthusiasm, he and his girlfriend love discussing his history of sex with men, and he can't quite bring himself to have any with her. Is that what counts as formerly gay? That's like bursting your head above water at a hot tub party and screaming, "I'm cured! Now time me, boys! Let's see how long I can stay straight! Giggle! Glbblblbbb!"
So this irresponsible dipshit maniac sits down to prove his system works, and THAT ... that man in a sexless co-ed flower arranging arrangement is the best success story he could come up with. What the hell are his other formerly gay patients doing? Trying to get semen out of their apron in a Jo-Ann Fabric break room? My point is, only dickbags care when a person is gay, and nobody cares more than this dickbag and his dickbag patients.
Ugh. You unimaginable piece of shit, Joseph Nicolosi, Ph.D.
#4. William Alexander Oribello
Author of Over 50 Books on Magical Bible Spells
You don't normally see a religious nut and a wizard in the same body outside of a Narnia porn parody, but the late William Alexander Oribello was both a Christian and a sorcerer. He claimed to control otherworldly forces with spells hidden in the Bible, and the reason you haven't heard of him is because that's fucking dumb and he of course didn't.
Create universes! Conjure floods! Double fish!
For book after book, William described rituals like lighting a talisman on fire to win free money or soaking a woman's name in a bowl of salt to get her to love you. In fact, most of the spells are this second one. This guy found the secret to unlimited Christ-given power and his first 20,000 ideas were all date rape. And while I'm no biblical scholar, it seems suspicious that God would take away someone's free will over some "magic bowl of salt" technicality.
I'm curious what the Godspell falling-in-love process is like. Does God create an opportunity for a subtle glance? A Tinder match? It's possible He appears in her bathtub and says, "Look, lady -- the guy folded up a drawing of you and put it in a moonlit iron chalice. You are now legally his. He also drew a couple forgotten ancient symbols that commanded me to give you butt implants. OK, ready? Dibble Dabble, God butt powers go!"
And upon reading those sacred magic words, rejoice and clap it, for God has made your butt fantastic.
I try to approach obvious dipshit liars with an open mind, but I can't get past the problem that these Bible spells are demonstrably ineffective. Oribello wrote so many books about money spells that if even 5 percent of them worked, he would have had enough of the world's wealth to cause a global economic crisis. And if he really knew how to make any woman love him in 1978, why wasn't he dating Lynda Carter in the skateboarding Wonder Woman outfit?
Checkmate, God magic.
William Alexander Oribello starts every book the same way -- an argument with an imaginary skeptic. The weird thing is that Oribello's idea of a skeptic isn't someone who thinks he's full of shit. His idea of a skeptic is someone who totally buys that money potions and irresistible sex spells exist, but isn't sure Jesus will be OK with them. William counters this by saying that most of the things you do in church every week are technically spells already. Prayers, passage recitals, songs ... why, churchgoers are probably casting thousands of cantrips right now by accident! Which might explain why churches find themselves with a strange abundance of free money and sexually irresistible altar boys.
Oribello sometimes took a break from Bible money spells to write about things like UFOs or how to defend yourself during astral plane battles. This seems like a pretty eclectic skill set, but basically, if something didn't exist, he would take your money to tell you about it. He also sold videos, and if you like watching bored men make up ritualized arts and crafts for 90 minutes, you will love "Get Rich Quick Spells." Please don't everyone watch it at once or all the money will just panic and run around in a circle.
I guess after you write enough books about money spells, you decide you've solved all problems ever. So William wrote a book called Cosmic Secrets of the Masters of Wisdom: A Final Solution to World Problems. After all, it turned out so well for the last occultist who decided he'd found a Final Solution to a question. That's how bad William Alexander Oribello's books are -- the title of his magnum opus is barely a word away from the same thing Hitler called the Holocaust.
As of press time, this is the only Amazon review of Cosmic Secrets of the Masters of Wisdom: A Final Solution to World Problems.