Since the NYTBR seems content to keep literary coverage firmly in the toilet, I thought I’d do Sammy Boy a favor and give him some story ideas for future issues.

1. What books can you best jerk off to? Do certain books work as a surrogate stroke mag? And, if not, do they need more pictures? Consider Austerlitz as exemplar.

2. What books are better used as toilet paper? We’re not just talking the content here, but the specific form of acid free paper that strikes best against the bum.

3. What author photos turn you on? (Reference the Jonathan Franzen photo.)

4. What books cause the reader to fart? Is there a correllation between flatulence and turgid pretentious prose? (Use science vs. empricism angle and, once you have conclusions, determine which authors fart the most frequently.)

5. Which books are best used as coasters? Are certain novellas ideal for an ice cold beverage?

6. Which books do NYTBR contributors read right after a wild evening of sex? Has any particular title replaced cuddling or the cigarette? Can reading certain passages solve the dilemma of premature ejaculation? Can some of the gooey substance found on the covers of new trade paperbacks be extracted for a homegrown KY lubricant?