Posts Tagged ‘reading’

When an author dies, you can hardly expect them to keep writing. Usually being dead means they’re much too lazy to fulfil word quotas or even to bother typing stuff up. Well, not Dr Seuss.

The writer of such books as that rubbish Christmas one with Jim Carrey that was filmed on video and they didn’t even bother digitally grading it to make it look at all movie-like, and that Mike Myers one that I went upstairs when the kids put it on telly. Apparently the Americans love his stuff, rhyming nonsense with other nonsense, and pretty pictures that don’t get the noses right.

Well, the guy died in the 90s and he left a big box of unfinished work that his secretary eventually went through in 2013. That box contained the manuscript and line art that you’ll find finished off and coloured in,  looking all fancy and new, but keeping with the tone of Dr Seuss’ classic books from the 60s.

This story is about two kids looking round a pet shop, trying to find a pet. Why a parent would send their kids alone to make an important shopping decision is beyond me, but that’s what happens. Maybe things are different in America or something. Anyway, rather than explain the various events and such that occur, I thought I’d let Meg read it to you. Also, it stopped her nagging about being bored while we wait for Jess to finish her dance class.

So, here you go…

Apologies about the lack of editing or whatever, I have really cold feet and I’ve not had breakfast. So, Meg enjoyed the book, I think she struggled a little bit with the slightly weird poetry style of Dr Seuss. Nonetheless, for a 6 year old, this book is easy enough to read, and the pictures are nice enough.

The story ends unresolved, letting the kid make their own mind up what the children chose as a pet. There is a little check-box at the back for your kid to choose which pet they would have gone with.

It’s all very twee and fluffy and fun, and I see no reason why your kids won’t enjoy it. The blurb I was sent says the stuff at the back of the book detailing the rediscovery and subsequent finishing-off of the book is ‘thrilling’ but unless you get someone like Anthony Hopkins to read it to you, it’s just interesting. It does go into a lot of detail about colour palettes and such, which I suppose if you’re such a big Dr Seuss fan that you care about that, well, it’s nice.

I think this is probably the book equivalent of when they find an old recording of Elvis and finish it off so they can sell a new album. It does have the unmistakable tone and style of Dr Seuss, but really I doubt you’ll be going out of your way to get this unless you’ve got the rest of his books and you want the full set. That said, it’s not bad as a standalone book. I just don’t think it’s gonna be your go-to book if you think “Ooh I’ll get a Dr Seuss book”

You can find the book HERE on Amazon, so, yeah, do that.

I kinda feel bad I didn’t make this review rhyme. Orange.

Hello. How are you? You look clean.
Well, not for long, as festival season is upon us, like a peregrin falcon with a roll of carpet underlay. Confusing? Yes, but not for long now you have this handy well informed guide to help you out at Galsterbury, Ledes, Reeding and Woodstonk this Summer.

A music festival is basically an inside out radio in the mud, where all the people who live in your wireless and make musical noises come to life on a structure of boxes and metal with lights and that and sing slightly worse than they normally sound while a bunch of students, dirty people and people who have money to waste stand nearby making noises and inhaling drugs and booze.

Each festival tends to have one or two bands that you’ve heard of, accompanied by eighty-five thousand bands you’ve never heard of with names like Ponté Quelimo, David’s Neck and Florence and the Machine. These bands tend to play the sort of music you hear when you accidentally electrocute your ears.

Festivals are a fantastic place to obtain, and use drugs of all kinds. I knew someone once who managed to ‘score’ a whole bottle of Calpol along with a packet of Halls Soothers and a lollipop that was also a whistle. Good times.

It always rains at festivals because the festival-goers’ manic dancing acts as a rain dance. Sometimes it is so muddy, people have to buy wellies and hats. Bad times.

Festivals are notoriously bad for the quality of their toilets. I find that using such horrible facilities can be prevented by doing a big poo and a wee before you go and then not eating or drinking anything and being paranoid that someone will see your bits if you take your trousers off. Of course, this can be disastrous, but I find wrapping the bottom of the trouser legs with duct tape prevents any accidental spillage.

Some people like to use a festival as an opportunity to do some camping. These people are fucking idiots.

And that is my guide to festivals. Feel free to share your experiences with anyone who don’t scream at you to shut the fuck up, as all festival-goers are known to do.