Wood's book is a collection of bite-sized stories blending biting social satire, cartoon-inspired craziness, cunning linguistics, and anti-book comedy. Offbeat yet literary, Wood's serious silliness is matched only by his silly seriousness as he dissects, skewers, and clarifies identity theft, the waning human attention span, crime, love, religion, obsession, partying, fear, cancer, quiet desperation, and dung beetles rolling the human race into tiny balls.

Jim Wood arrived in America in 1376, and was told to come back after the country had been “discovered,” wrested from its native inhabitants, colonized, and rendered independent. Wood followed that advice and was born to a middle class couple in 1963 in central New Jersey. He led a happy and relatively uneventful childhood, which led to a more turbulent, angst-filled adolescence, which finally blossomed into an angry, confused, and bewildered adulthood masked by unending mirth. He currently lives with his wife and daughter in a house built in 1850 (474 years after his initial arrival in what would become America). He owns approximately 5000 78 and 45 rpm rhythm and blues records from the golden era of roots rock (1946-1954), and likes beer a whole lot, maybe too much.