Corey Taylor has had it. Had it with the vagaries of human behavior and life in this post-modern digital blanked-out waiting room that passes for a world. Make no mistake: this is not the Corey Taylor you run into at meet-and-greets or in line at the coffee shop. This is not the kind and cuddly guy who kisses babies and takes pictures with your mom while leaving a voicemail for that distant cousin in college. This is not the loveable scamp who can poke just as much fun at himself as he does at the various rubes around him though to be fair he does save one chapter for a brutal and lacerating self-analysis.
This is Corey Motherfucking Taylor. This is the Great Big Mouth. This is that bastard you wonder about when you listen to Slipknot and Stone Sour. A native of Iowa, he spends his time between there, Las Vegas, and his suitcase. Sign In.
Remember Me on This Computer. Need help signing in? Not a Member? Join For Free! We Help Books Succeed. Contact Get Help About Blog. Privacy Policy Terms Cookie Policy. How It Works. This title was previously available on NetGalley and is now archived.
Buy this Book on. You must sign in to see if this title is available for request. Sign In or Register Now. I disagreed with a majority of his opinions, and even myself being a religious man, I was still able to say the guy made some solid points while also forcing me to think outside of my semi-limited moral box.
This latest release is absolutely no different. So we laugh and applaud. He says the things we wish we could, loudly lots of capital letters and vulgarly no phrase is too coarse. He is immensely entertaining. The essence of the book is that Taylor has lately come to discover common sense.
The great lack of it exhibited by his fellow humans makes him hate them. He should know, he often admits, because he was the worst offender. Though the chapter-opening photos might lead one to speculate otherwise. Yet he has the nerve to criticize fashion because everyone else is a conformist phony. He loves tangents. His rants branch off into mini rants off topic, for which he apologizes profusely, but not really. My favorite is where he suddenly screams at his readers for accusing him of smoking too much.
He beats us and himself up for a paragraph, then settles back into the lecture at hand. For a heartlander who was born and lives in Iowa, his language is remarkably British. It is peppered with whilst, telly, queue barging, cheeky, bloody, snogging, muck about, tossers, bad rubbish and bollocks.
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