Fuck Joseph Conrad

Last weekend, I read "Heart of Darkness." Yeah, that's right, I put it in quotation marks because I categorize that as a short story, not a novel. In fact, I categorize it as a fucking piece of shit short story, lumped upon a pile of turdlings with some poo-cream whipped up on the top of it. That book fucking sucked.
It started out decent enough, with a dude named Marlow telling a story about his life. I mean, for the most part, his life was boring as shit, actually. If I lived a life as boring as his, I certainly wouldn't write a book about it. Technically, within the book, Marlow was telling his story to a group of captive audience members, but still. I wouldn't do that, either.
The only thing this dude did was sat on a boat, got shot at by natives, and talked to some asshole named Kurtz. And boy oh boy, let me tell you about Kurtz. Everybody throughout the book was like, "Ohhh, Kurtz is soooo fucking wonderful!" They basically kissed his ass nonstop, even going so far as to spread his wonderfulness when he wasn't even around. After all the buildup, I have to admit even I got wrapped up in the whole Kurtz phenom. I couldn't wait to meet the guy!
Then, when we finally get to see him, BAM! The dude is a total fucking loser. A real douche. The kind of dick that says he "doesn't want any of your nachos" when you're standing at the counter, but once you hit the table, he's all over them. Fuck Kurtz. And yeah, yeah, I guess I "get it." Kurtz is supposed to be a piece of shit, right? Maybe I'm reading too much into it. On the plus side, I finished it in just under two days. Which, I believe, is twice as long at that dirty bastard took to write it.