Wrapped Up Like a Published Author

Well, the day I've waited for my entire life has actually come (and gone, come to think of it)——the creator of your very own WULAD has wormed his way into a printed, published (and soon to be pulped, no doubt) book.

It's called Mountain Man Dance Moves: The McSweeney's Book of Lists, and it features a plethora of humorous bits penned by a cast of probably-not-thousands-but-more-than-tens. In addition to myself, this cast includes many other talented humorous-bit-producers I sort-of know in a digital way (such as the oft-imitated but never-penetrated C. Monks, for example).

But why, you might ask, should I spend my hard-earned drug money on this former happy, living tree, when I can just as easily read all the same lists on McSweeney's minimalist-designed website at no charge? My answer comes in the form of just the sort of "witty" list you might find in the book in question:

REASONS TO SPEND
$12.95 ON
"MOUNTAIN MAN
DANCE MOVES"
RATHER THAN
READING THE LISTS
FOR FREE ON
MCSWEENEY'S WEBSITE.
- - -

• You can read it on the toilet, which I wouldn't recommend for the website.
  
  
• Could potentially fill you with the incomparable feeling of smugness that comes from supporting an independent bookseller, even if you secretly suspect they're trying to turn your kids gay.
  
  
• No additional money will be passed on to me no matter how many copies are sold, giving you the satisfaction of causing me to question whether I should've held out for another ten bucks.
  
  
• Every time a McSweeney's book gets remaindered a bearded hipster somewhere silently weeps.
  
  
• Prevents you from being the last one at the water cooler without an opinion on "Ways Art Garfunkel is Superior to a Dented Can of Vienna Sausages."
  
  
• The book may in fact contain exclusive material not found on the website. I don't have any reason to believe this, but I suppose it could be true.
  
  
• The unicorn-in-pastels cover art brings an air of rugged masculinity to even the daintiest of Scandinavian-designed coffee tables.
  
  
• Four Porsches is just not enough for Dave Eggers.

- - -

So run on out to your neighborhood bookstore or predatory high-volume mail-order reseller, and pick up a copy if you know what's good for you. It may be your last chance to read me in print before The Bible II gets picked up by Random House.