Yes, there’s another book.
It’s like he’s pretending to be a writer or something.
And this time he’s involved his beautiful wife.
SH!T MY WIFE SAYS began as a bit of a laugh on Borrie’s social feeds, but soon attracted a huge audience, which was clamouring for “More Lynette!” and demanding a book be written, which would properly immortalise her wisdom.
Borrie told Lynette about this.
She told him to stop being an idiot, and write instead about what he knew – which was being a fool on motorcycles. Surely no-one would be interested in listening in on their marital exchanges.
But Borrie wrote the book anyway. He understands it’s always better to beg forgiveness than to seek permission.
What happens next is entirely up to you.
Hopefully, you’ll buy the book, enjoy it, and tell your friends. And maybe they’ll buy a copy, and so on.
Things is, if enough people buy a copy, then Borrie will only be encouraged to write another one, and nothing good can possibly ever come of that, as you’d know if you’ve read any of his other stuff.
Please note, SH!T MY WIFE SAYS is not a marriage guidance manual. So don’t buy it thinking it will fix shit. If anything, it may make everything much worse.
And do not let your missus read it. Ever.
No, seriously, don’t.
PRICE: A$34.99
POSTAGE IN OZ: A$20
POSTAGE OVERSEAS: A$60.00 because fuck Australia Post , but they do provide a tracking number. Sorry. It is what it is.
Stephen Corby –
It takes a certain, sublime skill to turn a simple chair into an object of laugh-out-loud humour, but making the reader chortle, chunter and guffaw out loud is the defining skill of Boris Mihailovic and it’s luridly, hilariously on display in his new book, Shit My Wife Says. Now, if that book title sounds like it was created by someone who would rather choke than be woke, you are correct, but do not be put off. This book is the opposite of misogynist mansplaining because it is written with a tone of awe and reverence by Boris about his wife, Lynette, and her various and remarkable super powers – the greatest of which is being able to stay married to him – and, specifically, about shit she says. For example, when he wants to put a chair in her bathroom, to which she responds that there are enough “King Chairs” in their house already. “King chairs?” “Yes. Chairs you plonk yourself into and then hold forth the while I’m trying to read, or sleep, or put my make-up on.” “They’re just chairs.” “They may be just f..ken chairs, but you seem to think they’re throne from which you issue edicts and pronouncements.” “That hurtful and untrue. I’m just talking with you.” “The f..k you are. You’re not interested in conversation. You see something on the news, or on your comp and you feel the need to share that with me. You even yell politics at me through the door when I’m on the f..ken toilet. Now move on.” “I wouldn’t need to yell through the door if you’d leave it open.” “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that.” “Communication is important in a relationship.” And this argument goes on, becoming ever more colourful. I am thinking of nominating several chairs in my own house as King Chairs as a result. This book is funny, furious and yet worships the woman at its centre as a kind of benevolent goddess. Or possibly a witch. Buy it, read it. Reward yourself with laughter.