Read "Egghead Or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone" by Bo Burnham available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. Editorial Reviews. Review. "You have to be brave to be this hilarious, and this sweetly romantic. And of course, a lot of talent helps. Egghead is a remarkable. Egghead: Or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone [Bo Burnham] on are available for instant access. view Kindle eBook | view Audible audiobook.

Language:English, Spanish, Japanese
Genre:Academic & Education
Published (Last):07.10.2015
Distribution:Free* [*Sign up for free]
Uploaded by: NEOMA

53982 downloads 115821 Views 36.59MB ePub Size Report

Bo Burnham Egghead Ebook

Egghead (or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone) - Bo Burnham - Ebook download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read book online. /. Egghead: Or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone - Ebook written by Bo Burnham. Read this book using Google Play Books app on your PC, android, iOS devices. Bo Burnham - Egghead- or, You Cant Survive on Ideas Alone (epub) - dokument [*.epub] Begin Reading Copyright Page In accordance with the U.S. Copyright.

Also available as: Not in United States? Choose your country's store to see books available for download. A strange and charming collection of hilariously absurd poetry, writing, and illustration from one of today's most popular young comedians No, not that Walt Whitman. A different guy. Bo Burnham was a precocious teenager living in his parents' attic when he started posting material on YouTube. Bo taped his first of two Comedy Central specials four days after his 18th birthday, making him the youngest to do so in the channel's history. Now Bo is a rising star in the comedy world, revered for his utterly original and intelligent voice. Teaming up with his longtime friend, artist, and illustrator Chance Bone, Bo takes on everything from death to farts in this weird book that will make you think, laugh and think, "why did I just laugh? Rainbow Rowell. Ally Condie. I'll Give You the Sun.

Let's Pretend This Never Happened. The Ocean at the End of the Lane. Neil Gaiman. Paper Towns. Looking for Alaska.

Frank Herbert. Infinite Jest. David Foster Wallace. American Gods: The Tenth Anniversary Edition. Throne of Glass. Sarah J. The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Stephen Chbosky. If I Stay. The Fault in Our Stars. Thirteen Reasons Why. Jay Asher. The Martian. Andy Weir. The Rosie Project. Jonas Jonasson. Animal Farm. George Orwell. Brave New World. Aldous Huxley. The Kite Runner. Khaled Hosseini. James Dashner.

The Great Gatsby. F Scott Fitzgerald. George R. The Girl on the Train.

Paula Hawkins. Gone Girl.

Gillian Flynn. A Game of Thrones. Diana Gabaldon. Suzanne Collins. The Hunger Games Trilogy. The Hunger Games: Special Edition. Queen of Shadows. An Incomplete and Unreliable Guide. Heir of Fire. Crown of Midnight. The One. Kiera Cass. Lauren Oliver.

The Heir. The Elite. Kingdom of Ash.

Egghead (or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone) - Bo Burnham

Empire of Storms. Tower of Dawn. All the Bright Places. Jennifer Niven. Carry On. We Were Liars. The Selection. A Court of Mist and Fury. A Court of Thorns and Roses. The Prince. A Court of Wings and Ruin. Marie Lu. The Beginning of Everything. Robyn Schneider. City of Heavenly Fire. Cassandra Clare. A Court of Frost and Starlight. The Guard. Finding Audrey. Sophie Kinsella. The Transfer. Into the Still Blue. Veronica Rossi. You How, may I ask, did you get so you , you beautiful true-to-you doer?

I've met many today but can honestly say that I've never met anyone you-er. The Flirt I could make an easy joke to get you laughing.


Something about a cat and then the word pussy being used ambiguously. I could tell a sad story to get you crying. Like how I had a single mother who started selling handmade yo-yos to support her only child. I could tell you an interesting fact to get you nodding, Like how carpets were first made in the hopes that all of the world's grass would one day be replaced by carpets, or, as they called them, "comfy grass. What are you in the mood for?

My Rabbit's Foot I've got a rabbit's foot and I feel lucky that I have it, but I still know that it must've come from one unlucky rabbit. Onion You had many layers like an onion. Wait, no, like an artichoke-with your layers arranged like snake scales, not stacked like coats of paint.

Be sure to call in a year or so and tell me whether I was lifting heavy stones off your bunker door or plucking petals off your face. I Fuck Sluts Sluts! I fuck sluts! Sluts get fucked when I fuck sluts!

Nice girls are nice, but no good for nut-sucking. They'll need a serene night to green-light a butt-fucking, but that'll be easy with sleazy ol' slut-fucking! Boo to the nice girls! Praise be to slut-fucking! I have a list. A list? Yes, a list of all the sluts I've missed. I've never fucked or sucked these sluts and thus my nuts are fucking pissed. So when I fuck the lucky slut, my nut removes her from the list- another dumb cumbucket struck from my nut-sucking, "suck it, slut!

Sluts can be white, black, brown, pink, or almond. They can be skinny with big tits or be skinny with small ones. Sluts can be perky, preppy, or posh, with their brains and their clothes all shrunk from the wash. But other sluts are pretty and funny and smart. They can lift all your thoughts from your dick to your heart.

They can talk about science, music, or art. They can put you together or pull you apart. But don't trust these sluts! Don't you dare! They'll force you to trust them and love them and care.

And then they'll be gone and then you'll be aware of that hole in your heart that that dumb slut left there.

Incomparable You're incomparable like a,,, Shit. Like a,,, Gangly I'm a gangly kid, one of those drunk marionettes, one of those baby giraffes with inner ear syndrome. A flailing stork in high winds. A stilted freak. I am an easel-not symbolically-structurally. I attempt to dance and become a tornado of elbow. Advice If the poem you're writing is silly and dumb, make sure that it rhymes at the end. Can I Have a Word? Can I have a word, please?

It can be any word. Just give me a word. We can share all the rest. Just let me have one. It can be anything. I'd take canteen or avid. I'd even settle for timely.

But you can't use my word, whatever it is, without asking. Because it's my word. And I'll almost always let you use it when you ask.

Unless, for example, my word is wonderful and you want to use it to describe a movie I haven't seen yet or a movie I saw already and didn't care for. I really want everything.

That's my first choice. Flabbergasted is a close second. Fear The first was acro-claustro-homo-arachnophobic, terrified of being trapped in a very small, very high-up place with a bunch of gay spiders.

The second was avio-coulro-glosso-metrophobic, terrified of being forced to read poetry to the clown public on an airplane. The third was octo-oneirogmo-kathiso-lutraphobic, terrified of having eight consecutive wet dreams whilst sitting on a pile of otters. The fourth was afraid of snakes. What a pussy! Flower Sex Flower sex! Flower sex! Flex those sexy flower pecs.

Good old April shower sex that lasts for half an hour sex. Flower power her! Devour her!

Join Kobo & start eReading today

Don't cower, sir! Put the petal to the medal and powerfully deflower her! Angel The snow lay gently upon the ground. The poo lay gently upon the snow. The boy lay gently upon the poo. And the boy made a snow angel. An angel with a white body made from heaven's ashes and a brown heart made from a dog's gastrointestinal tract.

Your Mom If I had a million dollars, I would pay your mother to have sex with me. Afterward, I would probably invest the remaining nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety dollars.

Toast I'd like to propose a toast: The Letter I wrote you a letter, and then another letter, and another, and another, until I wrote you a word. So I wrote you a word, and then another word, and another, and another, until I wrote you a sentence. So I wrote you a sentence, and then another sentence, and another, and another, until I wrote you a letter. I hope it finds you as I found you. Yours truly, Yours, truly. Us I'll love you until I'm dead on the outside.

I'll give you every one of my mortal seconds. I'll never leave your side. I'll die holding your hand. But after that, I want some "me time. I'll do the nooks. No way I left my keys in some fucking cranny. Baby Turtles Eight baby turtles scurry to shore.

Wait, seven-now six-now five-now four! Two more gone, two left in the race, both of them sprinting and hoping to place. The first gets second, the second gets third, and first place goes to the now well-fed bird. Cup of Joe There's nothing like a cup of joe, when the morning's grey and grim and slow, when the streets collide with the world outside, when litter lies where lilies grow.

Just drink that smoking cup of black and feel your feelings surging back. Plus, spill a drop and a coffee shop will sprout up from a sidewalk crack! Sandy Claws Aw, it's plump, old dandy Sandy Claws. It's fuckin' Daddy Christmas. How's it hanging, Sandy Claws? I'm sure Miss Kringle missed us. I love you, you big dumb sack of shit. Come over whenever, I got the fireplace lit. I'm fuckin' with you! Nine to Five Grooming my cuticles in an un-roomy cubicle.

The phone rings, duty calls. Better sell those pharmaceuticals. Boooop I will have sex with you if you ask politely. Or ask. Or if you politely consent to it.

Or consent to it. I would like to have sex with you. Call me back. Pumpkin Someone carved a face in that pumpkin, and now it's perched on a stoop, grinning with the same sinister grin the carver must have had when he carved it.

And everything I recognize as expressive the triangular eyes, that big toothy smile is marked by a lack of pumpkin. A red face of dead space. And now I'm seeing just the opposite. I see two spots where the eyes should be, an open wound where the mouth once sat, and a fire within, baking the insides. Disembodied Heads Severed heads get all the attention.

Bo Burnham - Egghead- or, You Cant Survive on Ideas Alone (epub) - Pobierz epub z

But what about the severed bodies? What about that poor ol' disembodied head's poor ol' disemheaded body? The heads roll around moping all day. The bodies work in the mines. Without a union! It's a no-brainer for the no brainers. Give 'em some respect. They harvest our coal, for Christ's sake!

Benches Old men love to sit on benches. They do! All day. If you see an empty bench, look around. I guarantee that you will not see any old men. Old men always sit on benches. And they always have. Back in the day, baby old men, with their baby walking sticks and baby dentures, would sit on tiny baby benches. And as they grew, from baby old men puttering around dragging baby oxygen tanks into grown-up old men puttering around dragging oxygen tanks, the benches grew too.

Sometimes, two old men will sit on a bench together. And that's fine. Because it's not a throne. It's a bench. And it's for old men. Count of Six I'll give you till the count of six. Now run! Go screw! Let me be!

There's the door! While I'm still alive! Please stay, I love you. The Commercial Coupons! Free stuff! download five marked up, get one half price! download two of one thing and get one thing twice! Earn customer points when you shop at our store! Redeem customer points to shop here some more! And we love America! Hip hip hooray! Every product made right in the US of A. So come meet our great big American family. Homonyms Homonyms aren't fare. It's awful. It's tragic.

I say I'm pulling out my hare and they think I'm talking magic. Lou Lou followed his dreams. Lou followed those things into studios and boxing rings, into clown schools and swimming pools, into plucking little fiddle strings.