This "3D" cover is all fucked up.
I was prepared to be super duper bored by yet another typical Harley book when I picked this book up. Which I was! So it's a good thing I was prepared for it! No, no! That was a dumb joke! I actually kind of enjoyed this issue because it's got a bit of a real, if a bit trite and cliche, plot behind it! And the Harleys all look super sexy which goes a long way to keeping me interested. Plus you'll never guess the risque nature of one of the jokes about Harley Quinn and Bernie, her burnt beaver! Oh my! It's so delicious! Some of that was sarcasm because I don't think you're actually so stupid that you couldn't guess what the risque nature of the joke might be. Anyway, as far as Harley books go, this one was better than average. So there. Take that compliment, Frank Tieri, and shove it up your ass! Or put it wherever you enjoy putting your compliments. I probably shouldn't assume that you're into butt stuff.
I put this comic book on the bottom of the stack the week it came out because I'm sick to death of Harley Quinn. It's also possible I'm sick to death of comic books. It's more than probable I'm sick to death of life. Being a cynical bastard isn't all it's cracked up to be. I would like to take joy in things! I want to once again feel wonder! I want to be dwarfed by the majesty of creation! Instead, I'm stuck in a constant state of eye rolling, jerk-off hand motions, and growling. I'm slowly drifting further and further away from all contact with other humans. What's the point? Maybe if other people were as entertaining as me, I'd seek out their company! But instead they're all just a bunch of bores who think I'm an asshole because I sometimes run around the street yelling, "Gi'bert! Gi'bert! Find me!" Why would anybody be upset about me actually squeezing the slightest bit of joy out of something?!
I wonder if alcohol is the answer! I sometimes think about doing LSD again but I imagine doing LSD at 44 is just asking to spend twelve hours contemplating my eventual demise. Taking LSD when I was young and immortal were some of the best times of my life. I imagine taking LSD now when I'm over halfway through life's labyrinth will just wind up with me constantly hearing snorting and huffing and the shuffling of hooves somewhere behind me as I start and look over my shoulder and scream, "WHAT WAS THAT?! WHAT'S COMING FOR ME?! PLEASE LET JESUS BE REAL!"
For now, I suppose I can only hope that Frank Tieri completely shits his pants on this script. Pouncing on a writer's mistakes and discussing nonsensical plot points might be the last thing that truly makes me happy. Although reading really good writing also makes me happy! Perhaps I should take it as a sign that I found a copy of Catch-22 on the street while walking to the comic book store last week. It's been a long while since I've read it and it's one of my top five favorite books. Maybe I should reread One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest as well. Maybe I should reread all of my top five favorite books! Although rereading House of Leaves may have a similar result to dropping acid at this stage in my life.
My Usual Top Five Favorite Novels (in no particular order (list subject to change depending on if I'm trying to get laid or not)).
2. One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
3. House of Leaves
4. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There
5. The Grapes of Wrath
I don't need to list the authors because duh! Stop being stupid. Also you're on the Internet if you don't know. Take advantage of it.
I once saw Ken Kesey perform his weird Wizard of Oz slash Earth Day play at San Jose State. It was a huge clusterfuck that never seemed to end. The best part was when my friend Aaron Voorhees waddled across the front of the stage with his pants and underwear around his ankles. I don't think that part was in the script though.
So none of that had to do with Harley Quinn, probably because I'm not that interested in reading this comic book. But as an adult, I've learned that sometimes I have to do things I don't really want to do. So I'm going to have to suck it up and read this fucking comic book! Although if that's the worst thing I have to do as an adult, maybe I haven't actually learned anything about being an adult.
Christ, Tieri! This is a fucking comic book! Not a...whatever you call a book with too many words in it! A wordopedia, I guess!
Oh, and Bolly Quinn's parents own a restaurant? Really? Is that all Indian immigrants are capable of?! I wish it were because I, for one, would certainly enjoy having a lot more authentic Indian restaurants closer to my home. And of course Bolly Quinn is spiritual because she's obviously Hindu and how can you not enjoy being spiritual when you have monkey and elephant gods and a god who can't stop eating butter? I may be an atheist but sign me up for some of that action! Not to mention they have female gods who generally go around topless. Can you imagine if Jesus had been a woman? I might have been more interested in church if that were the crucifix hanging on every wall.
Harvey Quinn's motto is "Be who you want to be" although I suspect there are some caveats to that. Like don't be a dick even if you really want to be a dick. And being a gay basher is right out even if it's the only fulfilling thing in your life. And probably don't be a sexist even if sexists have some of the funniest jokes. And definitely don't be a prejudiced scumbag because nobody likes to be around their dick grandson who can't stop going on about the Jews.
I think Harley Quinn's tits have gotten bigger since last issue. Eee! Is there something Harley wants to tell us?!
Harley defeats the Hipster Mafia by poisoning one with milk and threatening the others. I didn't realize milk was to hipsters as garlic is to vampires. Of course, I'm still just confused by what a hipster is. That Urban Dictionary definition really didn't help. I think a hipster is just anybody you find annoying.
Harley gets kidnapped after the battle and after accusing her teammates of trying too hard to be like Harley, even though Harley is the one who gave them all Harley-themed names. The kidnapping is just a big fake-out to get the Gang of Harleys to prove themselves.
Obligatory beaver joke. Also, remember how her rooster's name is Mike! Ha ha!