| Details | | Publication Date: | 2002-10-01 | | Illustrator: | Stephen Notley | | Editor: | L. Fitzgerald Sjoberg, Stephen Notley | | Edition Description: | Illustrated |
| Size | | Length: | 218 pages | | Height: | 8.0 in | | Width: | 5.3 in | | Thickness: | 0.8 in | | Weight: | 8.8 oz |
Publisher's Note
“Lore Fitzgerald Sjöberg could be talking about bowling shoes and still be funny (speaking of which, the low-fashion shoes rank C–, right below actual bowling).” —Washington Post
Are you harshly judgmental? Yes! Do you walk around snidely rating everything in your path? Of course you do! You can’t help it—it’s just too easy and too much fun to rate everything from your coworkers and dates to restaurants and supermodels.
The Book of Ratings, which grades and compares everyday items in its own unique way, is the ultimate catalog of the most mundane and most hilarious rankings around.
For instance: Have you ever considered marsupials?
Koalas: Koala bears eat only one thing, day in and day out. Koalas look cuddly, but they’re actually irritable, solitary beasts who do not want belly rubs. What kind of mocking god created creatures with poofy ears and big black noses that don’t want belly rubs? B
Opossums: North America gets one lousy marsupial, and let’s just say it’s not going to win any beauty contests. Or even not-ugly contests. C–
Wombats: “Wombat” is a great name. It’s got a “wom” and a “bat,” and an “omba.” They’re kind of nondescript animals, cute in a generic pudgy mammal way, but their name spelled backward is “tabmow,” and that makes all the difference. A
The Book of Ratings is hysterically arbitrary and undeniably infectious.
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