For want of a better term, let's call these people "women."Their urge is understandable. We've all had to take measures to accommodate men, because they are involved in nearly every aspect of modern life except maybe housework and they like to run things like corporate meetings and the planet. The only other alternative has been to try to avoid men altogether, which is pretty hard to do if you are interested in stuff like reproduction or having your oil changed.That's why How to Remodel a Man is so indispensable-it is a clear, step-by-step guide for anyone who wants to alter the character and behavior of a man, written by an actual man. Author W. Bruce Cameron provides startling insight into male pattern thinking, explaining why men can open a refrigerator and not see the mayonnaise, or how it is that they can throw dirty clothes at the hamper or in front of the hamper or even on top of the hamper and yet not seem capable of getting any of it in the hamper. Normally, changing a man has certain obstacles, including, but not limited to, the fact that it is impossible. But Cameron is able to overcome this hindrance because he, himself, has been remodeled. In a move so bold it may be shocking to people unaccustomed to such personal courage, Cameron turned himself over to the women in his life and asked them to change him. It started with a list of his flaws (Cameron came up with four; the women came up with one hundred seventy eight) and ended with him writing How to Remodel a Man, so that others could learn from his experience.If you're a woman, you'll be amazed to learn that men can be trained to perform all sorts of tricks, like using the instruments on the sides of their heads (the ears) to listen to you, and the space between those instruments to think about you.If you're a man, you've been given this book so that you'll see that it's possible to watch television without holding the remote or to ask for directions from strangers without suffering a catastrophic loss of testosterone. Cameron changed, and you can too.How to Remodel a Man is the essential guide for anyone in the awkward position of having to interact with a person of the male gender.

    The bookstore or library is half full of that kind of crap. What you're holding here is a collection of quips and observations with a refreshingly gloomy, sometimes twisted, always funny take on life. Or lack thereof.With illustrations by renowned artist Brian Andreas, this book is a glimpse inside the humorously askew mind of a writer whose witticisms have been featured on NPR, printed onto t-shirts, performed on stage in Germany, and posted online at the Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, and New York Times. He's been named one of the top funniest people on Twitter by the likes of Maxim, MSNBC and Mashable.

    signed books

    Curator of kitsch and unabashed aficionada of pop culture, Halliday offers bemused, self-deprecating narration of events from guerrilla theater in Romania to drug-induced Apocalypse Now reenactments in Vietnam to a perhaps more surreal collagen-implant demonstration at a Paris fashion show emceed by Lauren Bacall. On layover in Amsterdam, Halliday finds unlikely trouble in the red-light districteliciting the ire of a tiny, violent madam, and is forced to explain tampons to soldiers in Kashmir"they re for ladies. Bleeding ladies"that, she admits, "might have looked like white cotton bullets lined up in their box." A self-admittedly bumbling vacationer, Halliday shareswith razor-sharp wit and to hilarious effectthe travel stories most are too self-conscious to tell. Includes line drawings by the author."

    Vivid and outrageously funny.

    Not so for Doreen and her husband Charles, who decide to take on a baby donkey to keep the nettles under control in the orchard. When Annabel clip-clops into their lives they realize that, from the ear-splitting nocturnal howling to the numerous escape attempts, living with a donkey won't be plain sailing. Annabel eats everything apart from the nettles, but eventually becomes a much-loved family member and particularly close to Solomon, the Siamese cat, who sleeps in her bed. Further dramas ensue when Henry, the jennet, is introduced as a companion to Annabel and love blossoms.

    Lavishly illustrated with over sixty original artworks, All Yesterdays aims to challenge our notions of how prehistoric animals looked and behaved. As a critical exploration of palaeontological art, All Yesterdays asks questions about what is probable, what is possible, and what is commonly ignored.Written by palaeozoologist Darren Naish, and palaeontological artists John Conway and C.M. Kosemen, All Yesterdays is scientifically rigorous and artistically imaginative in its approach to fossils of the past - and those of the future.

    You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll cringe at detailed descriptions of baby’s first blowout, but one thing’s for sure: You’ll never look at parenting the same again.

    Their mission? Tracking down the elusive Tasmanian tiger. Tragically, this mysterious, striped predator was hunted into extinction in the early part of the twentieth century. Or was it? Journeying first to the Australian mainland and then south to the wild island of Tasmania, these young naturalists brave a series of bizarre misadventures and uproarious wildlife encounters in their obsessive search for the long-lost beast. Filled with Rockman’s stunning drawings of flora and fauna originally crafted from river mud, wombat scat, and even the artist’s own blood, Carnivorous Nights is a hip and hilarious account of an unhinged safari, as well as a fascinating portrayal of a wildly unique part of the world.Carniverous Nights is:One of the New York Public Library's "25 Books to Remember from 2005"A New York Public Library Books for the Teen Age, 2006 selection

    Steve Osborne is the real deal, people: the tough, streetwise New York cop of your dreams, one with a big, big heart. Kojak? NYPD Blue? Law & Order? Fuggedaboudem! The Job blows them out of the water.     Steve Osborne has seen a thing or two in his years in the NYPD—some harmless, some definitely not. In “Stakeout,” Steve and his partner mistake a Manhattan dentist for an armed robbery suspect, and reduce the man to a puddle of snot and tears when questioning him. In “Mug Shot,” the mother of a suspected criminal makes a strange request and provides a sobering reminder of the humanity at stake in his profession. And in “Home,” the image of Steve’s family provides the adrenaline he needs to fight for his life when assaulted by two armed and violent crackheads.      From stories about his days as a rookie cop to the time spent patrolling in the Anti-Crime Unit—and his visceral, harrowing recollections of working during the weeks after 9/11—The Job: True Tales from the Life of a New York City Cop captures the humanity, the absurdity, and the dark humor of police work, as well as the bravery of those who do it. These stories will speak to those nostalgic for the New York City of the 1980s and ’90s, a bygone era when the city was a crazier, more dangerous (and possibly more interesting) place.

    Using mostly short entries organized from A to Z, many of which are cross-referenced, Rosenthal captures in wonderful and episodic detail the moments, observations, and emotions that comprise a contemporary life. Start anywhere—preferably at the beginning—and see how one young woman’s alphabetized existence can open up and define the world in new and unexpected ways.An ordinary life, perhaps, but an extraordinary book.Cross-section of ordinary life at this exact momentA security guard is loosening his belt.A couple is at a sushi restaurant with some old friends. They are reminiscing. In the back of their minds, they are thinking of being home.A woman is trying to suck on a cherry Lifesaver but will end up biting it in six seconds.A little boy is riding the train home with his dad after spending the day together at his office.A man is running back into a grocery store to look for a scarf he dropped. He will leave with the phone number of a woman who will become his wife.Words the author meant to useFlair, Luxurious, Panoply, Churlish, Dainty, FollyWines that go nicely with this bookreds: Marcel Lapierre Morgon (France), Alario Dolcetto d’Alba Costa Fiore (Italy) whites: King Estate Pinot Gris (Oregon), Landmark Chardonnay Overlook (CaliforniaBook, standing in the bookstore holding aIf I am standing there with the book in my hand, one of three things has already happened: Friend recommended it. Read a good review. Cover caught my eye. I can appreciate a cool cover. But it’s like the extra credit part of a test—it only enhances an already solid grade. Getting it right won’t help if most everything else is wrong. And getting it wrong won’t hurt if most everything else is right. (There are countless books I cherish whose covers I don’t like too much, or cannot even now recall.) The interior of the book—the terrain of its pages, where all those words took me, the tiny but very real spot it ultimately occupies in my mind—that becomes the book. Next I go to the flaps. The front flap needs to intrigue/not bore me, and the bio needs to tell me just enough about the author. I’ll do my best to extract the author’s entire existence from their 2-X-2 inch photo.Off to the back cover. I’ll be momentarily impressed when I see a blurb by a hot writer like ____, but I know that it is just as likely that I’ll like the book as hate it regardless of these quotes. I look at them in a more voyeuristic way, like a literary gaper’s delay: Wow, the author knows So and So. Bet they send each other clever text messages. Really the only thing I can gauge from the blurbs is my own pathetic jealousy level.To get a true sense of the book, I have to spend a minute inside. I’ll glance at the first couple pages, then flip to the middle, see if the language matches me somehow. It’s like dating, only with sentences. Some sentences, no matter how well-dressed or nice, just don’t do it for me. Others I click with instantly. It could be something as simple yet weirdly potent as a single word choice (tangerine). We’re meant to be, that sentence and me. And when it happens, you just know.

    Yeah. It’s weird. When October Jones figured out he could send text messages to himself on his mobile phone, he naturally decided that the best use of this discovery was to send passive-aggressive messages to himself under the guise of his bulldog. And so the exasperating, slightly delusional, and utterly endearing Dog and his alter-ego BatDog were born.Texts from Dog features Dog’s attempts to keep the neighborhood safe from the likes of Mr. Postman and his arch-nemesis Cat-Cat—he has managed to only smash three TVs and a patio door in the process. And in between crime fighting sprees and run-ins with the squirrel mafia, there are romantic interludes with pillows, fetch sessions gone terribly awry, and the abusive banter only a bromance between man and his text-savvy dog can spawn.For those of us who have ever had a conversation with a pet in our heads, Texts from Dog will make you laugh out loud and perhaps even make you think twice about leaving your pet home alone for the day.

    Now the bestselling author of Darth Vader and Son and Vader's Little Princess brings his witty comic observations to terrestrial parenting in this perceptive book celebrating the more surreal moments of raising a child. In charming colorful panels, Brown wryly illustrates his fiveyear- old son's take on the world around him, from watching TV ("Elton John looks pretty in that shirt") to playing with toys ("This truck can survive on very little water") to odd requests ("Don't feel happy at me"), capturing the sweetly weird times that mothers and fathers everywhere experience with their own curious, pure-minded kids.

    They do not stand in line for brunch, or have season tickets to the Met, or go indoor-rock climbing in Brooklyn. They do not shop at thrift stores or nibble finger sandwiches at the Russian Tea Room. And they certainly do not give a flying f*ck about the Yankees. No, the felines of New York bathe, purr, bask languidly in the sun, and occasionally cast baleful glances at the humans who provide them food and shelter. They are proof that behind every New Yorker, there lays a cat just waiting to destroy their IKEA futon and then eat their faces off when they die.

    In these sharp, hilariously entertaining, and vividly observed pieces, Ephron illuminates an era with wicked honesty and insight. From the famous “A Few Words About Breasts” to important pieces on her time working for the New York Post and Gourmet Magazine, these essays show Ephron at her very best.