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Thunderbird
Absurdist writer Jon Konrath returns with another collection of hilarious and demented flash fiction. Descend into a manic world of Kafkaesque insanity and paranoia including FDA drone strikes against weight-loss clinics, amputee porn, a celebrity kickboxing match between Yo Yo Ma and Manuel Noriega, and hobby shop exorcisms. The author of the cult classic Rumored to Exist continues his surreal nonlinear journey through a nightmarish terrain of Jeff Spicoli-themed restaurants, indian casino abortion clinics, and an apocalyptic landscape laced with insane humor and nonstop non sequitur references to pop culture, medical technology, military machinery, and extreme heavy metal. This collection of 26 short stories and flash fiction pieces explores the human element through deranged comedy in what demonstrates Konrath's bizarre style of experimental writing. Bonus: The paperback edition of Thunderbird also includes the short story "The Zombies of Kilimanjaro," an undead parody of the Hemingway classic.
- GenresBizarro Fiction
186 pages, Paperback
First published June 7, 2013
About the author
Jon Konrath
35 books87 followersJon Konrath is an American author born in 1971. He grew up in Indiana and studied computer science and English at Indiana University. After college, he worked as a software developer and technical writer, but eventually turned his attention to writing fiction.
Konrath is the author of several books, including "Rumored to Exist," "Thunderbird," and "The Earworm Inception." His writing is known for its unique blend of humor, absurdism, and surrealism, often blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.
In addition to writing, Konrath is also an accomplished photographer. He currently resides in California.
Konrath is the author of several books, including "Rumored to Exist," "Thunderbird," and "The Earworm Inception." His writing is known for its unique blend of humor, absurdism, and surrealism, often blurring the lines between reality and fantasy.
In addition to writing, Konrath is also an accomplished photographer. He currently resides in California.
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
April 8, 2019
daniel woodrell once said, describing short stories:
It’s like, you meet somebody at dinner, you’re in love by midnight, you have breakfast together, then you say ‘so long’ forever. It lasts just that length of time. It’s perfect.
these stories are not those stories. with these stories, it's like you meet somebody at dinner, they tie you up and pee on you, you're in jail by midnight, you vomit together in the sunrise, and then you say "so long" forever, but you look suspiciously over your shoulder for at least a month. and also you have herpes...
come to my blog!
It’s like, you meet somebody at dinner, you’re in love by midnight, you have breakfast together, then you say ‘so long’ forever. It lasts just that length of time. It’s perfect.
these stories are not those stories. with these stories, it's like you meet somebody at dinner, they tie you up and pee on you, you're in jail by midnight, you vomit together in the sunrise, and then you say "so long" forever, but you look suspiciously over your shoulder for at least a month. and also you have herpes...
come to my blog!
September 3, 2016
What's the word? Thunderbird!
Yet another insomnia-inspired k-hole of a collection from beloved children's author, Jon Konrath. Following the smash success of Where the Wild Things Aren't (a memoir detailing his seven-year period of involuntary celibacy) and In the Fight Kitchen (an erotic dream interpretation/underground boxing cookbook), Konrath makes his triumphant return to the short form with Thunderbird. I don't know when he's ever gonna run out this stuff, but as with earlier efforts Sleep Has No Master and The Earworm Inception, this book is packed to the tits with stories aimed at provoking reactions similar to the one your poor grandma experienced upon first googling the term "creampie."
Which is to say shocked, disgusted, and utterly incapable of looking away.
If you're feeling cheap, you can probably just save your money and read 3% of the book via my obnoxiously frequent status updates, but don't go assuming that I cherry picked all the best lines just for you -- were it legal or even ethical, I would've posted literally half this book, because the best way to experience Konrath's running-joke approach to storytelling is through page after page of gut-busting laughter.
The Kon-man at work
"I originally started the notebook scribbling habit with the intention of writing a young adult market novella about Perry Farrell’s pre-Jane’s Addiction career as a state senator in Utah, but it eventually became a scathing diatribe about how I couldn’t get laid."
One gets the sense that much of Konrath's writing is semi-autobiographical, making stories like "Vehicular Handjobs and Pirate Hooks" and "The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt Situation" that much more of a joy to read. And the titles! If you're worried that "Just Because I’m A Pisces Doesn’t Mean I Want To Watch You Eat A Whale Fucker Sandwich" couldn't possibly live up to its name, don't be -- it's friggin' awesome.
Back when it still went under the banner of Bizarro Press, Rooster Republic had the privilege of publishing "The Zombies of Kilimanjaro" (the bonus story included with the print edition of this collection) in Tall Tales With Short Cocks Vol. 1. You won't find this story in the Kindle edition of Thunderbird, but whether you end up reading it in his paperback or in its original publication, trust me when I tell you that Hemingway is rolling in his fucking grave. Also, I should add that another story from this collection, "The Lycanthropic Air Conditioning Folly", was recently anthologized in Tall Tales with Short Cocks Vol. 3.
Oh yeah, before I forget -- if you're wondering about those seemingly random grapes on the cover, you've obviously never had the pleasure of drinking bum wine. Then again, if you have had this pleasure, you're probably just as confused as I am, since I'm pretty sure that Thunderbird doesn't contain any ingredients derived from actual fruit.
For more Konrath:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
Yet another insomnia-inspired k-hole of a collection from beloved children's author, Jon Konrath. Following the smash success of Where the Wild Things Aren't (a memoir detailing his seven-year period of involuntary celibacy) and In the Fight Kitchen (an erotic dream interpretation/underground boxing cookbook), Konrath makes his triumphant return to the short form with Thunderbird. I don't know when he's ever gonna run out this stuff, but as with earlier efforts Sleep Has No Master and The Earworm Inception, this book is packed to the tits with stories aimed at provoking reactions similar to the one your poor grandma experienced upon first googling the term "creampie."
Which is to say shocked, disgusted, and utterly incapable of looking away.
If you're feeling cheap, you can probably just save your money and read 3% of the book via my obnoxiously frequent status updates, but don't go assuming that I cherry picked all the best lines just for you -- were it legal or even ethical, I would've posted literally half this book, because the best way to experience Konrath's running-joke approach to storytelling is through page after page of gut-busting laughter.
The Kon-man at work
"I originally started the notebook scribbling habit with the intention of writing a young adult market novella about Perry Farrell’s pre-Jane’s Addiction career as a state senator in Utah, but it eventually became a scathing diatribe about how I couldn’t get laid."
One gets the sense that much of Konrath's writing is semi-autobiographical, making stories like "Vehicular Handjobs and Pirate Hooks" and "The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt Situation" that much more of a joy to read. And the titles! If you're worried that "Just Because I’m A Pisces Doesn’t Mean I Want To Watch You Eat A Whale Fucker Sandwich" couldn't possibly live up to its name, don't be -- it's friggin' awesome.
Back when it still went under the banner of Bizarro Press, Rooster Republic had the privilege of publishing "The Zombies of Kilimanjaro" (the bonus story included with the print edition of this collection) in Tall Tales With Short Cocks Vol. 1. You won't find this story in the Kindle edition of Thunderbird, but whether you end up reading it in his paperback or in its original publication, trust me when I tell you that Hemingway is rolling in his fucking grave. Also, I should add that another story from this collection, "The Lycanthropic Air Conditioning Folly", was recently anthologized in Tall Tales with Short Cocks Vol. 3.
Oh yeah, before I forget -- if you're wondering about those seemingly random grapes on the cover, you've obviously never had the pleasure of drinking bum wine. Then again, if you have had this pleasure, you're probably just as confused as I am, since I'm pretty sure that Thunderbird doesn't contain any ingredients derived from actual fruit.
For more Konrath:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
http://www.goodreads.com/review/show/...
July 3, 2013
Konrath is that guy you meet in a seedy bar. You know him. He's the guy who bursts through the swinging doors, sweaty, out of breath, left eye squinted up in a snarly grimace, shirt buttoned to his neck, pocket protector in place, red suspenders holding up his elastic waisted geranimals, frantic he says, "Nobody move, I lost my dog and I need to finish my dissertation on the history of Burmese tentacle sex."
Thunderbird is like that. The stories are dirty and smart. Weirdly intelligent, but full of surprising characters, inciteful and insightful hilarity.
Seriously, "Hatefucking Shrimp Platters on Groundhogs Day", "Just because I'm a Pisces doesn't Mean I want to Watch You Eat a Whale Fucker Sandwich", "Bearded Women Shitting on Glass Tables is sorta my Thing". And those aren't even the best ones! Konrath expertly describes recreational drug abuse, fantastically obscure fetishes, and general fuckedupedness, with the incriminating knowledge of a juvenile delinquent. If you've ever wondered what it's like to drop acid while you're on speed, you came to the right place. If you're looking for something that will make you literally laugh out loud then look around hoping someone will ask you what you're reading, here it is. Just like the Semi-Annual Konrath Convention, you'll come for the tits, but you'll stay for the naked sock puppet magic show on ice.
Highly quotable quotes, and hilarious antics:
You can go to Chick-Fil-A, drop your pants at the counter, shove your anus in the cashier's face and they are required - this is official company policy and has been for years - to give you a free jumbo sized waffle fries and a coupon for ten percent off of a black powder rifle good at any participating Bass Pro Shop.
Draw hairy cocks on all the models in the SkyMall magazine.
...Thought her head would explode like JFK in that fucking Zoolander film.
"Lick the stump, lick the stump, lick the stump!"
"Jimi Hendrix never ate at the Olive Garden. Try wrapping your brain around that."
"You need to Luke Duke the fuck in here thru the window"
I'll have the "I wanna fuck myself nachos"
"Necco wafers are not candy motherfuckers!"
__________
I will leave you with this last thought, because that's the kinda guy I am motherfucker:
"Just because your parents are brother and sister doesn't mean you have to dress like a redneck tranny."
And so it goes fuckers. And so it goes.
___________
PRE-REVIEW:
The Kon entertains the hell outta me. He KILLS! Seriously, KILLS it! I'll write more the next time I wake up with a nasty hangover. Shouldn't be much longer. "DO NOT try to get high by shoving Dramamine up your ass. You WILL kill yourself!" And so it goes, motherfucker!
HA! KILLS!
Thunderbird is like that. The stories are dirty and smart. Weirdly intelligent, but full of surprising characters, inciteful and insightful hilarity.
Seriously, "Hatefucking Shrimp Platters on Groundhogs Day", "Just because I'm a Pisces doesn't Mean I want to Watch You Eat a Whale Fucker Sandwich", "Bearded Women Shitting on Glass Tables is sorta my Thing". And those aren't even the best ones! Konrath expertly describes recreational drug abuse, fantastically obscure fetishes, and general fuckedupedness, with the incriminating knowledge of a juvenile delinquent. If you've ever wondered what it's like to drop acid while you're on speed, you came to the right place. If you're looking for something that will make you literally laugh out loud then look around hoping someone will ask you what you're reading, here it is. Just like the Semi-Annual Konrath Convention, you'll come for the tits, but you'll stay for the naked sock puppet magic show on ice.
Highly quotable quotes, and hilarious antics:
You can go to Chick-Fil-A, drop your pants at the counter, shove your anus in the cashier's face and they are required - this is official company policy and has been for years - to give you a free jumbo sized waffle fries and a coupon for ten percent off of a black powder rifle good at any participating Bass Pro Shop.
Draw hairy cocks on all the models in the SkyMall magazine.
...Thought her head would explode like JFK in that fucking Zoolander film.
"Lick the stump, lick the stump, lick the stump!"
"Jimi Hendrix never ate at the Olive Garden. Try wrapping your brain around that."
"You need to Luke Duke the fuck in here thru the window"
I'll have the "I wanna fuck myself nachos"
"Necco wafers are not candy motherfuckers!"
__________
I will leave you with this last thought, because that's the kinda guy I am motherfucker:
"Just because your parents are brother and sister doesn't mean you have to dress like a redneck tranny."
And so it goes fuckers. And so it goes.
___________
PRE-REVIEW:
The Kon entertains the hell outta me. He KILLS! Seriously, KILLS it! I'll write more the next time I wake up with a nasty hangover. Shouldn't be much longer. "DO NOT try to get high by shoving Dramamine up your ass. You WILL kill yourself!" And so it goes, motherfucker!
HA! KILLS!
August 2, 2013
I think it’s pretty safe to say that Jon Konrath is a genius.
These are flash fiction stories that meander in the same sort of brain-space that is usually reserved for soapbox preachers or the schizophrenic. Suffice it to say, Konrath has somehow figured out a way to wrangle that sort of rambling insanity, repurpose it, repackage it and then deliver it up in a bite-sized morsel that both satiates and leaves you wanting more. As a reader, I am thoroughly entertained. As a writer, I’m inspired. Maybe even a little jealous. The satire and humor of the stories in this collection are so plentiful and so rapid-fire that I went back and read a few of them twice, just to make sure I didn't miss a single sexually-deviant pun.
I’m going to say this – the titles of the stories in Thunderbird alone are pretty much worth the price of admission. Far more interesting than the beguiling and minimalist cover would imply. There’s at least 20 or so pieces of flash in here, with titles like “The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt Situation” and “Bearded Women Shitting on Glass Tables is Sort of my Thing,” just to name a few. But the titles aren’t just there for a cheap yuck. They manage to keep these stories from rolling off the rail – sort of like blazing a trail in front of you while you stumble along and look at all the pretty colors. This is because the stories of Thunderbird are somewhat experimental in their narratives, not necessarily falling into your prototypical beginning/middle/end formula. Style-wise, it harkens back to something you’d maybe read by Mark Leyner, except Konrath is much more acerbic and cynical. And since the stories in Thunderbird are flash, they don’t ramble aimlessly like Leyner does and instead ramble like Saturn’s rings around whatever manic-depressive point Jon Konrath is attempting to make.
All said and done, this was a highly enjoyable read. Not a dud in the bunch. If you’re into sharp satire, absurdist humor and tangential epiphanies, then all you have to do is say the word:
THUNDERBIRD!
That is all.
These are flash fiction stories that meander in the same sort of brain-space that is usually reserved for soapbox preachers or the schizophrenic. Suffice it to say, Konrath has somehow figured out a way to wrangle that sort of rambling insanity, repurpose it, repackage it and then deliver it up in a bite-sized morsel that both satiates and leaves you wanting more. As a reader, I am thoroughly entertained. As a writer, I’m inspired. Maybe even a little jealous. The satire and humor of the stories in this collection are so plentiful and so rapid-fire that I went back and read a few of them twice, just to make sure I didn't miss a single sexually-deviant pun.
I’m going to say this – the titles of the stories in Thunderbird alone are pretty much worth the price of admission. Far more interesting than the beguiling and minimalist cover would imply. There’s at least 20 or so pieces of flash in here, with titles like “The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt Situation” and “Bearded Women Shitting on Glass Tables is Sort of my Thing,” just to name a few. But the titles aren’t just there for a cheap yuck. They manage to keep these stories from rolling off the rail – sort of like blazing a trail in front of you while you stumble along and look at all the pretty colors. This is because the stories of Thunderbird are somewhat experimental in their narratives, not necessarily falling into your prototypical beginning/middle/end formula. Style-wise, it harkens back to something you’d maybe read by Mark Leyner, except Konrath is much more acerbic and cynical. And since the stories in Thunderbird are flash, they don’t ramble aimlessly like Leyner does and instead ramble like Saturn’s rings around whatever manic-depressive point Jon Konrath is attempting to make.
All said and done, this was a highly enjoyable read. Not a dud in the bunch. If you’re into sharp satire, absurdist humor and tangential epiphanies, then all you have to do is say the word:
THUNDERBIRD!
That is all.
September 20, 2013
In the world of Jon Konrath’s hilariously transgressive short fiction—let’s call this world the Konrathverse—everyone and everything is pretty much fucked.
Yes, being a character in the Konrathverse is never a good thing. If you're unfortunate enough to be such a character, there’s a good chance that if you don’t have a daily coke or meth habit to feed, then you probably dull your reality by huffing markers or snorting Purell hand sanitizer and/or crushed Claritin. And don’t even think about eating if you’re a character in the Konrathverse. Because all the food—tacos, pizza, corn dogs, seafood, McFried Chicken McHeads, EVERYTHING—is greasy and unhealthy, if not outright rancid and toxic and ejaculated on. Sure, there’s opportunity for employment in the Konrathverse, provided you don't mind slaving it at an Indian Casino Abortion Clinic or the Enema Department of a retail store. Hobbies and entertainment can also be found in the irreparably broken world that is the Konrathverse, assuming snuff porn, national shitting tournaments, and “Introduction to Anal Bleaching” classes are your thing.
If you find yourself suffering from depression in the Konrathverse—and if you’re on the inside of this place, you most certainly will—don’t expect relief from a healthy diet (we already covered that), exercise, or antidepressants. Nay, the only possible relief is obtained through constantly faking bodily injuries in order to get regular MRI scans done of your body, as “repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation” is the only possible cure for treatment-resistant depression. Oh, and don’t count on love or sex to make things better. In the Konrathverse, if you’re not stuck in a serious dry-spell with no end in sight, then you’re likely caught in a grotesque parody of an ideal sexual/romantic relationship—or, at the very least, you’re reminiscing about a grotesque parody of an ideal sexual/romantic relationship you experienced back in the good ol’ days.
In Thunderbird, Konrath essentially writes about the same shit he wrote about in The Earworm Inception! This is a good thing, believe me. Not only that, but he continues to write about this sort of subject matter using what appears to be his signature anti-narrative storytelling structure, with a little variation thrown in here and there: The first-person Konrathian narrator initially presents you with an outrageous scene or set of circumstances, prompting the narrator to reminisce or daydream about one or two other beyond-fucked up happenings, after which the narrator typically returns to the original set of circumstances to end the “story.”
And this formula works every time—I wouldn’t have the Konrathverse presented to me in any other way. Call me simple, but if I've lost track of how many times I've laughed out loud while reading a book and I'm not even at the halfway mark, that’s pretty much a guaranteed five stars from me.
Yes, being a character in the Konrathverse is never a good thing. If you're unfortunate enough to be such a character, there’s a good chance that if you don’t have a daily coke or meth habit to feed, then you probably dull your reality by huffing markers or snorting Purell hand sanitizer and/or crushed Claritin. And don’t even think about eating if you’re a character in the Konrathverse. Because all the food—tacos, pizza, corn dogs, seafood, McFried Chicken McHeads, EVERYTHING—is greasy and unhealthy, if not outright rancid and toxic and ejaculated on. Sure, there’s opportunity for employment in the Konrathverse, provided you don't mind slaving it at an Indian Casino Abortion Clinic or the Enema Department of a retail store. Hobbies and entertainment can also be found in the irreparably broken world that is the Konrathverse, assuming snuff porn, national shitting tournaments, and “Introduction to Anal Bleaching” classes are your thing.
If you find yourself suffering from depression in the Konrathverse—and if you’re on the inside of this place, you most certainly will—don’t expect relief from a healthy diet (we already covered that), exercise, or antidepressants. Nay, the only possible relief is obtained through constantly faking bodily injuries in order to get regular MRI scans done of your body, as “repetitive transcranial magnetic stimulation” is the only possible cure for treatment-resistant depression. Oh, and don’t count on love or sex to make things better. In the Konrathverse, if you’re not stuck in a serious dry-spell with no end in sight, then you’re likely caught in a grotesque parody of an ideal sexual/romantic relationship—or, at the very least, you’re reminiscing about a grotesque parody of an ideal sexual/romantic relationship you experienced back in the good ol’ days.
In Thunderbird, Konrath essentially writes about the same shit he wrote about in The Earworm Inception! This is a good thing, believe me. Not only that, but he continues to write about this sort of subject matter using what appears to be his signature anti-narrative storytelling structure, with a little variation thrown in here and there: The first-person Konrathian narrator initially presents you with an outrageous scene or set of circumstances, prompting the narrator to reminisce or daydream about one or two other beyond-fucked up happenings, after which the narrator typically returns to the original set of circumstances to end the “story.”
And this formula works every time—I wouldn’t have the Konrathverse presented to me in any other way. Call me simple, but if I've lost track of how many times I've laughed out loud while reading a book and I'm not even at the halfway mark, that’s pretty much a guaranteed five stars from me.
July 23, 2013
Yesterday I had a pretty shitty day at work but when I got home and plopped myself on the couch and opened this book all that bullshit just didn't matter to me anymore. Thunderbird is like my modern day Calgon - it took all my troubles away. (pop culture reference was intended)
I seriously don't know how Konrath came up with half the shit in this little gem. His imagination is astounding. Thunderbird is filled with fetish porn, online dating disasters, satanists, seafood, conspiracy theories, fraudulent lawsuits, etc. It is one of those books that warrants additional readings as I am sure I missed multiple pop culture references the first time around. Some of the content I didn't understand but that's probably his intention. This is Bizarro Absurdist fare and it's not supposed to be logical.
There were many scenes that made me LOL and that is not a easy feat for me. I'm not talking about a mild chuckle but a loud burst of unexpected laughter that made my husband yell "what the hell are you reading?". The last time I was entertained this much in Bizarro was Lance Carbuncle's Smashed, Squashed, Splattered, Chewed, Chunked and Spewed. Good stuff.
How can you not laugh at a guy who sticks his junk in the cheese fondue fountain at Golden Corral in order to win a couple bucks from a frivolous lawsuit?
I seriously don't know how Konrath came up with half the shit in this little gem. His imagination is astounding. Thunderbird is filled with fetish porn, online dating disasters, satanists, seafood, conspiracy theories, fraudulent lawsuits, etc. It is one of those books that warrants additional readings as I am sure I missed multiple pop culture references the first time around. Some of the content I didn't understand but that's probably his intention. This is Bizarro Absurdist fare and it's not supposed to be logical.
There were many scenes that made me LOL and that is not a easy feat for me. I'm not talking about a mild chuckle but a loud burst of unexpected laughter that made my husband yell "what the hell are you reading?". The last time I was entertained this much in Bizarro was Lance Carbuncle's Smashed, Squashed, Splattered, Chewed, Chunked and Spewed. Good stuff.
How can you not laugh at a guy who sticks his junk in the cheese fondue fountain at Golden Corral in order to win a couple bucks from a frivolous lawsuit?
July 1, 2013
I really didn't want this book to end. I wish it was one of those 365 day calendar things that gives you a word of the day. Instead a quote from this book just to let out a laugh.
The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt, Death Metal Taco Bell, Bearded Woman Crapping on Tables.
It's all in here and much more. Jon Konrath is a laugh out loud, rant of pure absurdist literature. Tons of pop culture references that will have you laughing or just saying what the hell did I just read. O need to buy the paperback copy, just so I can say here read this when someone is looking at my bookshelf.
The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt, Death Metal Taco Bell, Bearded Woman Crapping on Tables.
It's all in here and much more. Jon Konrath is a laugh out loud, rant of pure absurdist literature. Tons of pop culture references that will have you laughing or just saying what the hell did I just read. O need to buy the paperback copy, just so I can say here read this when someone is looking at my bookshelf.
June 22, 2013
I'm addicted to Konrath's wild writing at this point so there was no way I wasn't going to immediately order this book as soon as I heard it was on sale. Konrath definitely delivers on the wildness in this one as well. There's just something about his ability to blend absolute absurdity in and out of the fabric of normalcy that really does it for me as a reader, and he does so with some really engaging energy. Mixing profane with the mundane, reasonableness with insanity, there's just a lot of fun to be had in this collection. On a more specific note, I would definitely recommend the print version. The bonus story "The Zombies of Kilimanjaro" (included in the print but not the electronic version) is both true to the spirit of the original Hemingway short story and startlingly fresh. You won't want to miss it.
July 21, 2013
Where the hell did this dude come from?
Just the titles are jaw-dropping: "The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt Situation," "Bearded Women Shitting on Glass Tables Is Sort of My Thing," "Vehicular Handjobs and Pirate Hooks," "Fratboy Brad and the Clamato Aquarium of Doom."
From that you should know whether this book is for you.
Each story is from a first-person perspective--the narrator being some version of the author. The effect is that this reads more like a novel, except without a plot and only one character instead of a cast of characters. Nevertheless, the result is remarkably cohesive, each story a gallon of gonzo, fever dream insanity inside of a Sizzler's buffet of obscure American cultural references.
It's hard to put my finger on why this book is so damn good, but I think part of it is the details Konrath mines. Check out the opening line to "The Manuel Noriega/Yo Yo Ma UFC Matchup": "I was playing miniature golf with Diane Keaton and Kim Jong Il in a Dubai Montgomery Ward store and we stopped to eat a sheet cake off the ass of Orson Welles, meticulously decorated by a Kroger cashier to say 'Shove it up your cunt/you are so dumb' in thick gel frosting letters."
YEEESSSSS!
Soon as I finished this book I wanted to re-read it. Instead I went out and got another collection of his short stories, Fistful of Pizza, which was every bit as good.
Just the titles are jaw-dropping: "The Long John Silver Vinegar Douche Abortion Attempt Situation," "Bearded Women Shitting on Glass Tables Is Sort of My Thing," "Vehicular Handjobs and Pirate Hooks," "Fratboy Brad and the Clamato Aquarium of Doom."
From that you should know whether this book is for you.
Each story is from a first-person perspective--the narrator being some version of the author. The effect is that this reads more like a novel, except without a plot and only one character instead of a cast of characters. Nevertheless, the result is remarkably cohesive, each story a gallon of gonzo, fever dream insanity inside of a Sizzler's buffet of obscure American cultural references.
It's hard to put my finger on why this book is so damn good, but I think part of it is the details Konrath mines. Check out the opening line to "The Manuel Noriega/Yo Yo Ma UFC Matchup": "I was playing miniature golf with Diane Keaton and Kim Jong Il in a Dubai Montgomery Ward store and we stopped to eat a sheet cake off the ass of Orson Welles, meticulously decorated by a Kroger cashier to say 'Shove it up your cunt/you are so dumb' in thick gel frosting letters."
YEEESSSSS!
Soon as I finished this book I wanted to re-read it. Instead I went out and got another collection of his short stories, Fistful of Pizza, which was every bit as good.
July 14, 2013
I get the feeling Jon has a deep rooted hatred for seafood. There’s a reoccurring theme of defiling our underwater deep-fried friends. There’s also a death metal Taco Bell, that is now my all-time favorite restaurant.
Anyways, Thunderbird is difficult book to explain. It’s lined with, laugh-till-you-shart yourself moments, which I’ve come to expect from The Rath. However, this book seems to play with experimental writing more than the others I’ve read. I’m not a big fan of experimental writing. I hate reading Vonnegut for that very reason. But what the hell do I know. Apparently Vonnegut was a genius and I’m some jag-off accountant living in a crappy apartment.
The Alissa Milano story was probably my favorite out of the bunch. But there are so many good stories in here it’s hard to pick a favorite. My only beef with it is the experimental stuff peppered throughout the book. But it was in small enough doses that it didn’t ruin it for me.
Word. Thunderbird.
Anyways, Thunderbird is difficult book to explain. It’s lined with, laugh-till-you-shart yourself moments, which I’ve come to expect from The Rath. However, this book seems to play with experimental writing more than the others I’ve read. I’m not a big fan of experimental writing. I hate reading Vonnegut for that very reason. But what the hell do I know. Apparently Vonnegut was a genius and I’m some jag-off accountant living in a crappy apartment.
The Alissa Milano story was probably my favorite out of the bunch. But there are so many good stories in here it’s hard to pick a favorite. My only beef with it is the experimental stuff peppered throughout the book. But it was in small enough doses that it didn’t ruin it for me.
Word. Thunderbird.
November 25, 2013
Some good stuff here, and very funny at times.
August 13, 2018
This is fucked. Jon, you’re fucked. Why, man?
August 13, 2016
Since I can only be myself no matter how hard I try to be someone else, I must say what I feel and let it ooze forth like the froth that runneth over from Cujo's lips. What I might say could be just as toxic, but at least when my bite actually connects, you will no longer have to fear, just accept.
I don't know where the hell that came from, just like I can't begin to imagine where Mr. Konrath pulled some of the innovative stories that are within the pages of this book out from. I felt like I needed to be high to 'get' some of them.
"If John Travolta can fly, so can we."
Or maybe my mind hasn't transcended enough to step past bizarro and enter experimental land.
From a boy who has his future told to a carpet-wearing Chewbacca's, the stories in Thunderbird are weirdly absurd, yet somehow entertaining. Your reasoning, as well as Konrath's, will be questioned.
Read at your own risk!
*I was given a copy in exchange for an honest review*
Check out www.HorrorAfterDark.com for more reviews.
I don't know where the hell that came from, just like I can't begin to imagine where Mr. Konrath pulled some of the innovative stories that are within the pages of this book out from. I felt like I needed to be high to 'get' some of them.
"If John Travolta can fly, so can we."
Or maybe my mind hasn't transcended enough to step past bizarro and enter experimental land.
From a boy who has his future told to a carpet-wearing Chewbacca's, the stories in Thunderbird are weirdly absurd, yet somehow entertaining. Your reasoning, as well as Konrath's, will be questioned.
Read at your own risk!
*I was given a copy in exchange for an honest review*
Check out www.HorrorAfterDark.com for more reviews.
October 22, 2014
Got the book for free from story cartel in exchange for a review.
I liked what I read.
I liked what I read.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews