I've only bought two self-published books. One was Tara's hilarious "Untitled: A Bad Teen Novel," and one was "11 Years, 9 Months, and 5 Days," about a Kentucky man's years spent working at a fast-fooderie as a janitor.
I just rediscovered "11 Years..." again while cleaning out my basement, and spent a night re-reading it. Hoo boy, is it funny. I believe every word, too, the managers who make employees come in at 3:45 a.m. to unload a truck that's not due that day, the worker who calls in sick yet isn't too sick to pick up his check, the progressively nastier signs our hero puts up to chide people who don't flush the toilet.
Oh man, I think I loved re-reading this book so much because it makes almost any job, no matter how much drudgery it is, seem like Nobel Peace Prize-winning work by comparison. Hilarious.