I have recently come to believe that if I ever write a book, copies of said book should be given to people who care enough to tell me if I'm being an ass, so I don't write a book like the one I picked up from the school library today.

It's about a vet who, after getting into too many auto accidents, took up a post in Africa. (no, seriously, he blamed car accidents)

...

There's half a chapter dedicated to how the native girls went about with no shirts, and musing upon the shape of their breasts. And their butts.

This guy is such an ass. I read to find out what he'll say next.

*reposts for coherency*
*reposts twice for proper placement*