Awesome Clicking Album and Music Offers

Clicker Training: Step-by-Step In Pictures Teach you dog the friendly, easy way to sit to greet people, walk on a leash without pulling, come when called, stay home alone quietly, find the right place to "go" and play hide and seek and other fun games and tricks..
Price: $12.00 [Notify me when price goes down.]

Some of the best P.G. Wodehouse novels in one collection (With an active table of contents):

The Clicking of Cuthbert,
Head of Kay’s,
The Intrusion of Jimmy,
Man With Two Left Feet, And Others,
Mike and Psmith,
Tales of St. Austin’s,
The White Feather.
Price: $3.99 [Notify me when price goes down.]

Bertie finds himself once more at Brinkley Court, sampling the delights of Anatole's cooking while attempting to help Aunt Dahlia sell off her magazine Milady's Boudoir to the Liverpudlian Trotters, avoiding trouble in the shape of ex-fiancee Florence Craye, her hulking beau Stilton Cheesewright and the equally fearsome Spode. .
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Jeeves placed the sizzling eggs and b. on the breakfast table, and Reginald ('Kipper') Herring and I, licking the lips, squared our elbows and got down to it. A lifelong buddy of mine, this Herring, linked to me by what are called imperishable memories. Years ago, when striplings, he and I had done a stretch together at Malvern House, Bramley-on- Sea, the preparatory school conducted by that prince of stinkers, Aubrey Upjohn, 'M.A., and had frequently stood side by side in the Upjohn study awaiting the receipt of six of the juiciest from a cane of the type that biteth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder, as the fellow said. So we were, you might say, rather like a couple of old sweats who had fought shoulder to shoulder on Crispin's day, if I've got the name right. The plat du jour having gone down the hatch, accompanied by some fluid ounces of strengthening coffee, I was about to reach for the marmalade, when I heard the telephone tootling out in the hall and rose to attend to it. 'Bertram Wooster's residence,' I said, having connected with the instrument. 'Wooster in person at this end. Oh hullo,' I added, for the voice that boomed over the wire was that of Mrs Thomas Portarlington Travers of Brinkley Court, Market Snodsbury, near Droitwich - or, putting it another way, my good and deserving Aunt Dahlia. 'A very hearty pip-pip to you, old ancestor,' I said, well pleased, for she is a woman with whom it is always a privilege to chew the fat. 'And a rousing toodle-oo to you, you young blot on the landscape,' she replied cordially. 'I'm surprised to End you up as early as this. Or have you just got in from a night on the tiles?' I hastened to rebut this slur....
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By turns funny, romantic, erotic, and sad, this evocative novel brilliantly recreates the landscape of late adolescence, when friendships seem eternal and loves reincarnate. Set in Arkansas but first published in The Netherlands, Clicking Beat on the Brink of Nada quickly won praise from reviewers and readers across Europe and North America. The back cover blurb written by the late William S. Burroughs reads: "A haunting vision of young friendship shattered by an outrageously cruel world. Keith Hale's novel aches with adolescent first loves. It is tender, funny, and true." The book was published in the U.S. as Cody and remained on the amazon.com bestseller list for gay titles a year after it went out of print. Now Clicking Beat on the Brink of Nada is back in print with its original European front cover and title..
Price: $13.99 [Notify me when price goes down.]

TOWCESTER ABBEY pronounced Toaster, the seat of William Egerton Ossingham Belfry, ninth Earl of Towcester, is one of those stately homes of England which were a lot statelier in the good old days before the moth got at them. It stands such portions of it as have not fallen down in the heart of Southmoltonshire in the midst of smiling country. Though if you had asked Bill Towcester what the dickens the English countryside had to smile about as of even date, he would have been unable to tell you. Its architecture is thirteenth century, fifteenth century and Tudor, its dilapidation twentieth century post-World War Two. To reach the Abbey you turn off the main road and approach by a mile-long drive thickly encrusted with picturesque weeds and make your way up stone steps, chipped in spots, to a massive front door which badly needs a lick of paint. And this was what Bills sister Monica and her husband Sir Roderick (Rory) Carmoyle had done on the summer evening on which this story opens. Monica, usually addressed as Moke, was small and vivacious, her husband large and stolid. There was something about his aspect and deportment that suggested a more than ordinarily placid buffalo chewing a cud and taking in its surroundings very slowly and methodically, refusing to be hurried. It was thus that, as they stood on the front steps, he took in Towcester Abbey. "Moke," he said at length, having completed his scrutiny, "Ill tell you something which you may or may not see fit to release to the Press. This bally place looks moldier every time I see it." Monica was quick to defend her childhood home. "It might be a lot worse." ....
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Kids will be delighted with these Snappy Fun Books each featuring a different animal character and a snappy toy.  Fun stories include prompts in the text to let kids know when to chime in with the "snapping".  Reading has never been so fun..
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A collection of P. G. Wodehouse Drones Club short stories: Fate, Tried In The Furnace, The Amazing Hat Mystery, Noblesse Oblige, Goodbye To All Cats, All's Well With Bingo, Uncle Fred Flits By.
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'WHILE I would not go so far perhaps, as to describe the heart as actually leaden, I must confess that on the eve of starting to do my bit of time at Deverill Hall I was definitely short on chirpiness. I shrank from the prospect of being decanted into a household on chummy terms with a thug like my Aunt Agatha, weakened as I already was by having had her son Thomas, one of our most prominent friends in human shape, on my hands for three days. I mentioned this to Jeeves, and he agreed that the setup would have been juicier. "Still," I said, taking a pop, as always, at trying to focus on silver lining, "its flattering, of course." "Sir?" "Being the Peoples Choice, Jeeves. Having these birds going around chanting We Want Wooster. " "Ah, yes, sir. Precisely. Most gratifying." But half a jiffy. I'm forgetting that you havent the foggiest what all this is about. It so often pans out that way when you begin a story. You whiz off the mark all pep and ginger, like a mettlesome charger going into its routine, and the next thing you know, the customers are up on their hind legs, yelling for footnotes. Let me get into reverse and put you abreast. My Aunt Agatha, the one who chews broken bottles and kills rats with her teeth, arriving suddenly in London from her rural lair with her son Thomas, had instructed me in her authoritative way to put the latter up in my flat for three days while he visited dentists and Old Vice and things preparatory to leaving for his school at Bramley-on-Sea and, that done, to proceed to Deverill Hall, Kings Deverill, Hants, the residence of some pals of hers, and lend my services to the village concert. Apparently they wanted to stiffen up the program with a bit of metropolitan talent, and I had been recommended by the vicars niece. And that, of course, was that. It was no good telling her that I would prefer not to touch young Thos with a ten- foot pole and that I disliked taking on blind dates. When Aunt Agatha issues her orders, you fill them. But I was conscious, as I have indicated, of an uneasiness as to the shape of things to come, and it didnt make the outlook any brighter to know that Gussie Fink-Nottle would be among those present at Deverill Hall. When you get trapped in the den of the Secret Nine, you want something a lot better than Gussie to help you keep the upper lip still. I mused a bit...'.
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INTRODUCTION by P. G. Wodehouse "TAKE THE WITNESS!" by Robert Benchley GROUCHO: THE MAN FROM MARX by Leo Rosten Comments by Groucho Marx, SOMEWHERE A ROSCOE . . . by S. Perehnan FATHER WAKES UP THE VILLAGE by Clarence Day SONG TO BE SUNG BY THE FATHER OF INFANT FEMALE CHILDREN by Ogden Nash CAPSULE CRITICISM by Alexander Woollcott TWO BUMS HERE WOULD SPEND FREELY EXCEPT FOR POVERTY by John McNulty THE SNATCHING OF BOOKIE BOB by Damon Runyon THOUGHTS by John O'Reilly ADVENTURES WITH THE ANGELS by H. Allen Smith TWENTY-FIVE BY CERF A Selection of Bennett Cerf Jokes CHOCOLATE FOR THE WOODWORK by Arthur Kober RESUME by Dorothy Parker LOVE IS A F ALLACY by Max Shulman THE LADY ON THE BOOKCASE by James Thurber NEW JOE MILLER JOKE BOOK by Earl Wilson ON THE VANITY OF EARTHLY GREATNESS by Arthur Guiterman THE ETIQUETTE OF COURTSHIP by Donald Ogden Stewart CONFETTI ON THE BRAIN by Billy Rose MADAME DU BARRY by Will Cuppy MONEY by Richard Armour HERR OTTO BRAUHAUS by Ludwig Bemelmans GUINEA PIG by Ruth McKenney THE MAN WHO CAME TO DINNER by George S. Kaufman and Moss Hart TROUBLE DOWN AT TUDSLEIGH by P. G. Wodehouse INTRODUCTION Mn. CHAIRMAN, ladies and gentlemen. Seeing your vacant faces and gazing into your fishy eyes as I rise to introduce this book, I am reminded of a little story that may be new to some of you here tonight. But as it is bound to have appeared in the collected works of Bennett Cerf, I will omit it and get down to business. This is an anthology of the writings of humorists, and the great advantage of publishing an anthology of the writings of humorists is that it brings a ray of sunshine into the poor devils drab lives. It makes them feel that it is not such a bad little world, after all, and they pour their shot of strychnine back into the bottle. The pleasant shock of finding that somebody loves them revives them like watered flowers. It is so seldom that anyone encourages humorists. I shouldnt wonder if our letter to-- say-- H. Allen Smith, saying how much we liked his "Adventures with the Angels" and could we use it, was not the first kind word he had had since 1937. For humorists today are not popular pets. I dont know if you have ever seen someone looking askance at something, but that is how the modern public looks at the authors of what is known in the trade as "light writing." In some states, I believe, it is legal to hunt them with dogs, and even in more humane localities they are scorned and sneered at. I happen to know that the fellow who wrote "Trouble Down at Tudsleigh" at the end of this book was referred to the other day in The New Yorker as a "burbling pixie." Well, you cant go calling a man a burbling pixie without lowering his morale. He frets. He refuses to eat his cereal. He goes about with his hands in his pockets and his underlip sticking out, kicking stones. The next thing you know, he has given up humor and is writing thoughtful novels analyzing social conditions, like the author of "When Willie Came to Say Good Night" in George Ades fable... .
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