I am beginning, once again, to have an urge to salute my Uncle Oswald. I mean, of course, my Uncle Oswald Hendryks Cornelius deceased, the connoisseur, the bon vivant, the collector of spiders, scorpions, and walking-sticks, the lover of opera, the expert on Chinese porcelain, the seducer of women, and without much doubt the greatest fornicator of all time.

You have to love a book that begins that, especially when it was penned by one of the greatest authors of children's stories, Roald Dahl (James and the Giant Peach, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory). Sure, My Uncle Oswald is silly in excess, but it's an incredibly fun ride. I highly recommned it.