How Not to Get a Free Book From Me

As readers of this blog know, I run occasional contests giving away copies of my books (Bryan Crowther? You got the city where Nigger Canyon is but never emailed me to claim your prize. Where are you?). As much as I want people to buy a copy so I can get a penny off of the royalty, I also understand the importance of spreading the Good News about a product. Seriously, folks: if you approach me and I have a copy of either ¡Ask a Mexican! or Orange County: A Personal History in hand, I'll probably give it to you–just ask.

A couple of days ago, a woman called me with an interesting proposition–she wanted a book and offered to give me a colonic in exchange. I've been accused of a potty mouth and been threatened with ass-kickings many times before, but this was ridiculous. Besides, lentils do wonders in clearing out your innards. The woman followed up with an email, where I politely declined her invitation. “You don't know what you're missing,” she wrote. I'm sure I'll learn in a decade or so, when my doc'll insist on prostate cancer checkups. I wonder if Mark Twain was ever similarly propositioned?

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