Chicka Chicka Boom Boom
Some people are wising up and removing this bawdy board book from impressionable kindergarten classrooms. The title alone is filthy. It encourages kids to join orgies, which is obviously how all those letters got injured up there in the so-called “coconut tree.”
The Very Hungry Caterpillar
Normalizes binge eating and obesity. All this does is teach little kids—even girls!—that it’s okay to consume food when you’re hungry. To make matters worse, the caterpillar doesn’t go on a diet, doesn’t hate itself, and doesn’t even get properly shunned by society for its gross and destructive dietary choices. Instead, it turns into a literal butterfly. Not only is this the opposite message we should be sending children, but it’s completely unrealistic.
The Giving Tree
A story of handouts. Flat-out socialism. Not to mention the climate-thumper extremism of giving the tree feelings. “Oh no, a tree is sad. It turns into a pathetic little stump. Whatever will we do?” Ridiculous.
The Book with No Pictures
Without pictures, how do we know what’s going on? I didn’t get it at all. And the black-and-white cover—does it always have to be about race?
The Day the Crayons Quit
Does NO ONE want to work anymore?
Caps for Sale
Should be titled: How to Fail in Business. The “peddler” is a complete buffoon. He doesn’t sell a single cap, can’t even afford lunch, and then instead of revamping his approach, decides to take a nap without protecting his merchandise.
Where the Wild Things Are
Don’t be fooled by shiny medals. This is a horrifying story of lawlessness and open borders. It teaches that it’s okay to cause chaos and become the kingpin of some antifa group of thugs and then get off scot-free with a warm dinner waiting. Not in this lifetime, Max.
Dragons Love Tacos
How anti-American can you be? True patriot dragons love cheeseburgers, apple pie, and ketchup packets.
The Rainbow Fish
Blatant propaganda from the LGBToomanyletters community. Not to mention, the fish makes friends by giving away its silver scales, making it an ordinary ugly fish with no accumulated wealth. A bunch of communist crap.
Now we’re worried about being polite to objects? We have to say goodnight to our dirty socks and crusted-over bowl of mush and even the fricking air? We always say goodnight to the flag and Jesus, but I draw the line at a creepy old lady whispering, “Hush.”