My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face by Michael Ian BlackMy Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face by Michael Ian Black

My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face

byMichael Ian Black

Paperback | July 14, 2009

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Get ready for the read of your life. Never before has a single book combined awesome vans, unicorns, Billy Joel, and erotic fiction in such a potent combination. A writing tour de force? Perhaps. A reading experience that will sear itself into your consciousness like a red-hot branding iron? Without question.

Comedian and basic cable superstar Michael Ian Black unleashes the full fury of his astonishing intellect in this collection of short comic essays. My Custom Van is a no-holds-barred assault to the funny bone that will literally beat you into submission with hilarity*.

How did he do it? How did he create such a fine anthology? Answer: With love. Michael opened his heart and used the magical power of love to write more than fifty thought-provoking essays like, "Why I Used a Day-Glo Magic Marker to Color My Dick Yellow," and "An Open Letter to the Hair Stylist Who Somehow Convinced Me to Get a Perm When I Was in Sixth Grade."

Maybe you think love is not a substitute for "good writing skills" and "spell check." Bull pucky! When it comes to writing books, love is the most powerful word processor of all.

Sounds pretty great, right? And yet...something is still holding you back from paying the full purchase price of this book. What is it? Perhaps you secretly believe you do not deserve a book this good. Nonsense -- you deserve this book and so much more. In fact, if Michael could have written you all the stars in the sky, that's what he would have done. But he couldn't do that, due to his lack of knowledge in the area of astronomy. So he wrote this book instead.

And this flap copy.

Enjoy.

* Michael Ian Black is not responsible for any actual injuries caused by reading this book.
Title:My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your FaceFormat:PaperbackDimensions:256 pages, 8.25 × 5.31 × 0.7 inPublished:July 14, 2009Publisher:Gallery BooksLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:1439153531

ISBN - 13:9781439153536

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Customer Reviews of My Custom Van: And 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays that Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face

Reviews

Rated 5 out of 5 by from Absolutely Hilarious Prior to picking up this book I had never heard of Michael Ian Black. Now I'm obsessed with him. There are some brilliant stories in here that had me laughing and snorting and generally making a spectacle of myself at Chapters. Highly recommended.
Date published: 2009-09-24

Read from the Book

What I Would Be Thinking If I Were Billy Joel Driving to a Holiday Party Where I Knew There Was Going to Be a Piano I'm not doing it. I'm just not. I know I say the same thing every year, but this time I mean it -- I am not playing it this year. Seriously, how many times can I possibly be expected to play that stupid song? I bet if you counted the number of times I've played it over the years, it probably adds up to, like, a jillion. I'm not even exaggerating. One jillion times. Well, not this year. This year, I'm just going to say, "Sorry, folks, I'm only playing holiday songs tonight." Yeah, that's a good plan. That's definitely what I'm going to do, and if they don't like it, tough cookies. It'll just be tough cookies for them. But I know exactly what'll happen. I'll sit down, play a few holiday songs, and then some drunk jerk will yell out "'Piano Man,'" and everybody will start clapping, and I'll look like a real asshole if I don't play it. I wonder if they'll have shrimp cocktail. Now that I think of it, it's always Bob Schimke who yells out "'Piano Man.'" He does it every year. He gets a couple of Scotches in that fat gut of his, and then it's "Hey, Billy, play 'Piano Man'!" That guy is such a dick. He thinks he's such a big shot because he manages that stupid hedge fund. Big deal. He thinks because he used to play quarterback for Amherst that everybody should give a shit. I don't. Who cares about you and your stupid hedge fund, Bob? That's what I should say to him this year. I really should. I should just march right up to him and say, "Who cares about your stupid hedge fund?" Let's just see what Mr. Quarterback has to say about that. And I know he made a pass at Christie that time. She probably liked it too. I'm such a loser. Why do I even go to these parties? I mean, honestly, how many times do I need to see Trish and Steve and Lily and that creepy doctor husband of hers and all their rich Long Island friends? Although that Greenstein girl is nice. Maybe she'll be there. What's her name -- Alison? What if Alison asks me to play "Piano Man"? Then what? I've got to stick to my guns, that's what. I'll simply say, "Some other time." Yeah, that's good. Kind of like we're making a date or something. And then at the end of the night when we're all getting our coats, I'll turn to her and say something like, "So when do you want to get together and hear 'Piano Man'?" Oh man, that's really good. That's so smooth. After all, how is she going to say no? She's the one who asked to hear it in the first place! Oh man, Billy, that is just perfect. Maybe she'll say something like, "How about right now?" Yeah. And maybe we'll leave together. I can drive her back to my place and I can play her the stupid song and then maybe we'll do it. I'd really like to do it with that Greenstein girl. How awesome would that be? Me leaving with Alison on my arm and Bob's big fat stupid face watching us go. That would be too rich. I'd be real nonchalant about it, too -- "See you later, Bob." Who am I kidding? She'd never go out with me. She was dating that actor for a while. What's his name? Benicio? What kind of name is Benicio? A stupid name, that's what kind. Hi, I'm Benicio. I'm so cool. I'm sooooo cool. I should start going by Billicio. I'm Billicio Del Joelio. I play pianolo. Sing us a song, you're the piano man... Oh great. Now it's in my head. Perfect. Now I have to walk around that stupid party with that stupid song stuck in my head all night. Amherst sucks at football. You know what I should do? I should just turn this car around and go home. Just pick up the phone and call them and tell them I ate some bad fish or something. Yeah, that's what I should do. What am I going to do? Go through my entire life avoiding situations where somebody might ask me to play a song? I can't do that. No, Billy, you've just got to grow yourself a sack and take care of business. And if that loudmouth Bob Schimke requests "Piano Man," I just need to look him in the eye and tell him I'd be happy to play it for him just as soon as he goes ahead and fucks himself. Who am I kidding? Of course I'm going to play it. I always play it. Probably the only reason half the people at that party even show up is to hear me play "Piano Man." They probably don't even like me. Not really. They just want to tell all their friends that Billy came and played "Piano Man." Again. Like I'm the loser who's dying to play it. Whatever. Fine. I'll do it, but not because they want me to, but because I want me to. I'm not even going to wait for them to ask. I'm going to march right in there and play the song and that'll be that. I'm not even going to take off my coat first. Yeah. Let's see what Bob has to say about that. I might even play it twice. Copyright © 2008 by Hot Schwartz Productions

Table of Contents

Contents

Foreword by Abraham Lincoln

What I Would Be Thinking If I Were Billy Joel Driving to a Holiday Party Where I Knew There Was Going to Be a Piano

One Day, I'm Going to Open a Scented Candle Shoppe

Maximus Beer

Why I've Decided to Go Blonde

A Series of Letters to a Squirrel

Join Our Club!

Hey, David Sedaris -- Why Don't You Just Go Ahead and Suck It?

Erotic Fiction: The Elevator

A College Application Essay to Harvard That Might Have Been Written by a High School Senior Who Has Absolutely No Chance of Getting Accepted

Taco Party

Vampires -- Good for the Economy?

Grasshopper

The Complete Idiot's Guide to Meeting People More Famous Than You

My Custom Van

A Meditation on Salami

Now We Will Join Forces, You and I

Mordeena

Using the Socratic Method to Determine What It Would Take for Me to Voluntarily Eat Dog Shit for the Rest of My Life

Why I Used a Day-Glo Magic Marker to Color My Dick Yellow

Announcing the Imminent Arrival of the Handlebar Mustache Certain People Said I'd Never Be Able to Grow

Erotic Fiction: The Beach

When I Finally Get Around to Building My Robot, This Is What It Will Be Like

A Description of Myself for a Dating Service If I Were a Chicken

A Series of Letters to the First Girl I Ever Fingered

How I Might Address My Players at Halftime If I Were a Self-Loathing High School Football Coach in a Game Where We Were Losing 49-3

How I Might Address My Players at Halftime If I Were a Self-Loathing High School Football Coach in a Game Where We Were Winning 49-3

Testing the Infinite Monkey Probability Theorem

Job Orientation

This Is How I Party

A Suicide Note

Stan the Oracle

Lewis Black Hates Candy Corn: A Rebuttal

I No Longer Love You, Magic Unicorn

Some DJ Names I've Been Considering

I Have an Indomitable Spirit

Incident at the Torpedo

Good Skiing Form

An Open Letter to the Hairstylist Who Somehow Convinced Me to Get a Perm When I Was in Sixth Grade

Instructions for the Cleaning Lady

How to Approach the Sensitive Question: Anal?

Do Not Buy Tundra from a Door-to-Door Salesman

DON'T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!!!

Erotic Fiction: The Mad Scientist

A Series of Letters to Celine Dion's Husband, René Angélil

Icky

A Few Words About My Jug Band

Chapter 19 of My Science Fiction Epic, The Pirates of Dagganon 6, Which I Am Only Able to Write Because of a Generous Grant from the Makers of Barq's Root Beer

My Top 50 New Year's Resolutions

In Conclusion: A First Draft of the Acceptance Speech I Plan to Give Upon Receiving Some Kind of Important Literary Prize for Writing This Book

Acknowledgments

Editorial Reviews

"Michael Ian Black is so wrong that he's right." -- Lewis Black