Toothpaste for Dinner review

?Unemployment?? ? ten million Americans can?t be wrong!? jokes one of the funniest comics on the Web to date.

Toothpaste for Dinner, written by ?Drew,? no last name ? a bored chemist who also creates a series of comics reflecting the jaded attitude of American society ? is based on his popular webcomic by the same name. Drew, who lives in Ohio with his wife, takes a cynical and sarcastic view on the mixing of chemicals that result in air fresheners, and not the saving of a life. Blatantly put, he wrote this book as a result of hiding in the back of his lab and not doing work, but argues that as long as you laugh, this book is worth your time. And his job.

Toothpaste for Dinner continues this year as what raving critics have called one of the most ?addicting comics on the Web.? Published in an easy to read, easy to carry, and easy-to-laugh-with book, Toothpaste for Dinner is right on cue with the comic revolution of the early 1990s and the creation of Dilbert. Commenting on employment (or a lack thereof), the American Dream, having kids, and life in general, its humor is geared towards the new optimists of the jaded workplace, but not quite your mom or dad. Parents might get a kick out of ?Drew?s rule of grandparents: The meanest ones always live the longest,? and his current research on finding television shows that not only have a laugh track, but humor as well. But most of his humor is geared towards those of the younger generation.

While his newest compilation edges toward the young adults and 20-to-30-somethings in the world, it still reserves some young humor that older folk won?t understand, including comic spiels on your baby daddy, piPods from the ancient Greek and Roman eras, Japanese anime, and Goths finally turning into bats, but sadly being murdered by a broom.

Divided into five sections, the book contains absurd titles such as ?Mousetraps and Ping Pong Balls,? and ?No Birthday Cake for the Dog.?

With various commentaries on why you shouldn?t have kids (remember, they decide your nursing home), the workplace (?It takes two weeks for every single job to turn to crap?), and even the new, redefined American dream (?Not only did I marry someone with health insurance, but thanks to the declining value of the dollar, I?m paying less rent every day?), Drew crosses those social lines your mom warned you not to talk about, without being too harsh. Reminiscent of those stick figures you drew in kindergarten, and probably still draw unless you?re an art major, his childish stick-figure characters balance the blunt humor with a sense of innocence.
Eloquently, without stepping on toes, he allows us to laugh at the truths of life, the bizarre vagaries of the world, and, most importantly, ourselves.

Some of the commentaries are, however, completely absurd, and will make you laugh out loud for no reason other than their sheer stupidity. Cartoons in this category include hamsters trading cigarettes for favors and low-carb birthday steaks. Clocking in at 223 pages, a complete table of contents and an index, Toothpaste for Dinner is sure to keep you busy for hours of enjoyable laughs with your friends. So, if you haven?t read Toothpaste for Dinner yet, as Drew would say, ?Four out of five doctors agree: Shut up,? get a copy, and read this book.