[With heavy hearts we bring you the last installment of Emilie Clark's Bibliophile column.]

You Say Goodbye, I Say, “Get Lost, I’m Reading”

So, I contemplated a lot of different ways to write this last column. I’ve never been especially good at goodbyes. When everyone else was crying at high school graduation, I was making stupid jokes and eyeing the exit. Part of that was because I hated high school so much, but there’s also a part of me that is unable to fully recognize that a change is coming, so that I always end up at the other side of it a little confused and not fully prepared. I guess this is just the first time I’ve ever been forced to work it out in writing.
Getting the chance to write this column was one of the five best things to happen to me ever. It not only gave me a chance to write off book purchases on my taxes, and think about something other than pastries all day, but it put me in contact with a lot of other book-reading squares out there. Sure, I only ever really got e-mails when I disparaged the Beats, but it’s exponentially better than the amount of e-mail I was getting before (if you discount the ones offering to enlarge my penis).
So anyway, goodbyes are for suckers. And it’s not what they’re paying me the big bucks to do. You all are gonna need something to read while I’m in the City of Roses, and I’m not sure what my successor has planned for you. So here are some of the best things I read this year, which you should probably read this month, before school comes and takes away all your free time.

The Abstinence Teacher, by Tom Perotta: You might remember my review of this book, but if not, then know that it not only focuses on the national debate regarding abstinence education, but also features a pretty awkward love story. When you’re done with it, read Little Children, also by Perotta.

Black Hole, by Charles Burns: I was lucky enough to do an interview with Mr. Burns earlier this year. He may not know how to text message, but he remembers what high was like perfectly.

The Brief, Wondrous Life, Of Oscar Wao, by Junot Diaz: This guy has a pretty good handle on being a teenager as well. Plus the way he writes will pick you up and drop you right down in New Jersey. If you don’t want to read it, don’t fret; I’d bet money that someone is working on a movie adaptation.

The Kid, by Dan Savage: Do not say a word about gay adoption before you read this book. There isn’t much in the way of facts and figures to influence your decision, but if you don’t come away convinced that not only should Dan Savage be allowed to raise kids, but that he should probably raise your kids, then I’ll be mighty surprised.
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So lowland mountain gorillas aren’t quite as fucked as gorilla-ists thought they were. I’m gonna celebrate by buying a hummer, snorting some powedered tiger penis and dumping my engine oil into the street drain that flows directly into the local creek.

Wildlife researchers said Tuesday that they’ve discovered 125,000 western lowland gorillas deep in the forests of the Republic of Congo, calling it a major increase in the animal’s estimated population.

The Wildlife Conservation Society, based at New York’s Bronx Zoo, and the Republic of Congo said their census counted the newly discovered gorillas in two areas of the northern part of the country covering 18,000 square miles.

Previous estimates, dating to the 1980s, put the number of western lowland gorillas at less than 100,000. But the animal’s numbers were believed to have fallen by at least 50 percent since then due to hunting and disease, researchers said. The newly discovered gorilla population now puts their estimated numbers at between 175,000 to 225,000.

Though Fall Out Boy chairman and overall winnar of the music world Pete Wentz’s penis has been widely seen on the internetz, there was as of yet no HARD evidence that his use of anti-anxiety pills hadn’t made his rock as soft as his band’s. Now however, comes the announcement that Pete Wentz has won his very own fuck trophy with his new wife Ashlee Simpson:

"While many have speculated about this, we wanted to wait until after the first trimester to officially confirm that we are expecting our first child. This is truly the most joyous time in our lives and we are excited to share the happy news and start our family." - Pete and Ashlee Wentz

All jokes aside, congrats to the new couple on their pre-baby.

I can kinda feel The Meltdowns on several levels. The first track that came up, “Tonight We Dine,” reminds me of what Michael Jackson would put out if he were raised on the Papa Roach cover of his own “Smooth Criminal,” but then decided about a year and a half later that he was “too indie” for Papa Roach anymore, sold off his Ibanez 7-string and downloaded every Gang of Four track he could find on SoulSeek. Unfortunately, he still ended up with a shipwrecked career all because he fondled a little boy’s penis. But now he writes frenetic, dancy-y, house party, dancing on the countertops punk and gets MAD GASH and free PBRs everywhere he goes. That’s just reason #1.

Also, I would like to point out that by swapping letters in the band name “Gang of Four,” you get “Fang of Gore”; and when you type “Fang of Gore” into a google image search, you get this:

That’s just reason #2 why you should click on The Meltdowns’ MySpace Page, befriend them, and then let them crash at your house when they’re on tour.

The Meltdowns’ debut EP, “No Authority, Direction, or Control” was released in January and should be purchased HERE. It sounds like demon dance party dogs tearing through a sweaty basement club and nipping at the heels of rad chicks with ugly-ass haircuts.

Don’t worry: Unlike both the real and the alternate reality Michael Jacksons, The MELTDOWNS WILL NOT TOUCH YOUR PENIS. (maybe.)

The Meltdowns have East Coast shows coming up. You can find them after the jump.
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Mom, Dad, don’t read this one. Do you ever have those times in your life where it seems like you keep seeing the same random things? Like that week where every time I had to stand in line for something, there would be a group of retarded people in front of me, taking FOREVER to place their orders and pay for their shit. EVEN when I had gone out of town. That was annoying and I’m glad it’s over. But this week it seems like everything comes back to The Dick…

It started with HBO’s Real Sex episode my roommate and I watched. The focus was strap-ons. Captivated, we both agreed that we couldn’t die without partaking in strap-on fun. Add it to my list of things to do.

Then I kept having these strange dreams about inverted penises… Then everything began to look phallic to me. My boss’ speakers pique my curiosity… just yesterday, someone randomly brought up the pervertedness of The Little Mermaid… I hesitantly ate sausages last night… And this morning I read this:

Police in Congo have arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men’s penises after a wave of panic and attempted lynchings triggered by the alleged witchcraft.

Reports of so-called penis snatching are not uncommon in West Africa, where belief in traditional religions and witchcraft remains widespread, and where ritual killings to obtain blood or body parts still occur.

Rumors of penis theft began circulating last week in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo’s sprawling capital of some 8 million inhabitants. They quickly dominated radio call-in shows, with listeners advised to beware of fellow passengers in communal taxis wearing gold rings.

Purported victims, 14 of whom were also detained by police, claimed that sorcerers simply touched them to make their genitals shrink or disappear, in what some residents said was an attempt to extort cash with the promise of a cure.

“You just have to be accused of that, and people come after you. We’ve had a number of attempted lynchings. … You see them covered in marks after being beaten,” Kinshasa’s police chief, Jean-Dieudonne Oleko, told Reuters on Tuesday.

Police arrested the accused sorcerers and their victims in an effort to avoid the sort of bloodshed seen in Ghana a decade ago, when 12 suspected penis snatchers were beaten to death by angry mobs. The 27 men have since been released.

“I’m tempted to say it’s one huge joke,” Oleko said.

“But when you try to tell the victims that their penises are still there, they tell you that it’s become tiny or that they’ve become impotent. To that I tell them, ‘How do you know if you haven’t gone home and tried it’,” he said.

Some Kinshasa residents accuse a separatist sect from nearby Bas-Congo province of being behind the witchcraft in revenge for a recent government crackdown on its members.

“It’s real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny,” said 29-year-old Alain Kalala, who sells phone credits near a Kinshasa police station.

That sucks!!!!! Stay the eff away from my man!

Oh come on, gimme some funny captions. Here’s mine: “Not thorny, but horny.”