Roald Dahl was a Norwegian Author for Children
Roald Dahl had quite a hard early life, which may explain how fucked-up he really was. When he was just three years old, his seven year old sister, Astri, died of appendicitis. Only weeks later, his father died of pneumonia aged fifty seven.
All this, however, did not make him a shy, reclusive boy at school. It did, however, make him hang out with some total sick fucks. Aged eight, four other boys, and Roald himself, were caught shoplifting by an elderly woman in a candy store. They then proceed to play a prank on her, by putting a dead rat in a candy jar. The result: she almost had a fucking heart attack. The five were caned by the schoolmaster for these evil deeds. We didn't bother reading up on the rest of his childhood, and decided this was enough. Moving on...
Dahl began working for the shell petroleum company in 1934. He worked mostly in Tanzania, with a cook and personal servants. For selling fucking oil. Yeah. It was before the war. Talking of which...
During WW2, he was an officer in the King's African Rifles, while the British were, as was the norm in those days, fighting where they had absolutely no business to be. During his entire tenure in this regiment, he only spent just under eight hours in the air.
In his next regiment No. 80 squadron RAF, he spent a lot more time in the air, flying obsolete Gloster Gladiators
He was ordered to fly from Egypt to Libya in this piece of shit, and crashed, fracturing his skull and smashing his nose. He used this experience in his first published work. Shit.
He then went on to become a famous writer for kids. Writing such classics as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The BFG, and Fantastic Mr Fox (now a major film).
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
The Heartwarming story of a poor little boy who wins a trip around a magical, migrant-powered, candy factory. Sounds magical, doesn't it? Did we forget to mention that the other four kids who win the trip are all horrendous assrags? Or that, one by one, they are bumped off in 'lessons' that would make Jigsaw proud?
No Shit. A big fat bavarian beefer? Drowned in a lake of chocolate. A hyper-competitive bubblegum bitch? Turned into a giant blueberry by a piece of gum. Spoiled brat? Thrown into a furnace along with her daddy. TV Dork? Sucked into a TV and then stretched back to size.It goes on and on and on. Also, this man runs the factory:
Kind of like a pedo/pimp mix up.
Not much can be said upon this story. Suffice it to say, it carries the message : Giants snatch small children out of their beds and eat them in the night.
It should also be noted that when read this as kids, we spent the next month in fear.
Fantastic Mr Fox
Once again, I shall first give you the story's messages.
1. Farmers are evil freaks of nature with eating disorders
2. Pest Control = Fox oppression
3. Animals have feelings and families, just like people. Wow, it made sense!
The story is of a kleptomaniac fox, who steals everything he needs in life (chickens, geese and cider) from three freakishly deformed farmers. A dwarf, a beanpole who does not eat and is perpetually rat-arsed on cider, and a big fat fucker.
There are more, but we do not wish to continue. Honestly.