Diary of Indignities TP 1st print M Press Bad News Patrick Hughes Blog


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Diary of Indignities SC
Published May 2007 by M Press
1st printing
Written by Patrick Hughes

A hilarious account of life’s daily disappointments, as told by blogger Patrick Hughes. From reminiscing about being a teen in the ’80s to chronicling another family Christmas with Jello shots, Hughes has the right amount of candor, wit, and perversity for these vignettes to really pack a punch.

Diary of Indignities first foisted itself on an unsuspecting public on the popular blog Bad News Hughes, where thousands of readers are disgusted, amused and just plain baffled by these vivid, seriocomic stories of soul-melting shame. Patrick Hughes doesn’t understand exactly where, or when, things went wrong in what should have been a “normal life,” but he’s more than happy – make that driven – to share his personal calamities with his readers.

Inexplicably, he has an uncanny talent for personal failure, with more than the average share of embarrassment, heartbreak, carefree violence, booze, bodily injury, hypochondria, inappropriate nudity, painful rashes, neuroses, colonoscopy procedures and unpleasant smells – all totally true. In Diary of Indignities, complete with humiliating full-color photo essays, the author guides readers past good taste, sense and even logic into that magical, mayhem-ridden world known as his life.

Publisher M Press (June 5, 2007)
Paperback 256 pages
ISBN-13 978-1595821034
Weight 14.1 ounces
Dimensions 6 x 0.5 x 9.25 inches

Cover price $14.95.

A funny thing happened while I was reading “Diary of Indignities”. My husband said to me “you’re not laughing out loud as much as I had expected” and at first it was dissettling. I should have been seized with hilarity… but then I realized why. My ear-to-ear grin wasn’t just from reading the absurdities of fried turds or being relentlessly arm-molested by a retard. I was smiling because it felt like coming home. In some other galaxy or perhaps Seinfeld bizzarro universe, you and I were part of the same gang, my friend. I was that girl. The one on the periphery of the group, the brazen get-away driver, the alibi-creator, the conscious one who would drive you home at 5am. Even when you lived 8 hours away. The one who paid for your stitches and lied to the cops for you. In so many ways, I was right there with you. Dick House? I know that place! Some family bought it and is raising their kid there! Hope they know how radioactive it is. The squatter house? We had a corporate development with no security. Minnesota Wristwatch? I actually saw a guy do the “rodeo” stunt at a frat party.

It made me smile and fondly reminisce. Probably the best part of these indignant stories is that it gave a little… how to phrase it? Validation? to all all of the craziness of my past. The mental scars of a jack-off party and peeing on a trampoline. For once, it felt like finally someone else knew, understood. It freaks me out sometimes being Ms. Corporate America and my co-workers having NO IDEA. And knowing that not only could they not understand, but that their minds would melt with the knowing. Like all “regular” people who didn’t spend their formative years hanging around inside freshly dug graves.

So THANK YOU, Patrick Hughes. By sharing your indignities, you made me feel a little better. And not because I’m any better off than you. But because at least I don’t have an anal fissure.

Near mint, 1st print.