Dear Assholes Who Wrote This Book,
I'm sure that you were the very paragons of wit in your sophomore year of high school, but sadly it seems your sense humor failed to develop past that stage. Just like many an over-praised 15-year-old, you've clung to those memories of making classmates laugh while the rest of the kids grew up and mastered higher levels of cleverness and repartee. Or at least a more advanced vocabulary.
To be sure, you've occasionally lucked into a good turn of phrase or witty analogy, but based on the overwhelming evidence these have really been just by chance. For the most part, your language is leaden and repetitive, and your assumed anger doesn't seem fueled by much breadth of experience or depth of passion. Instead, you clomp along with all the poetry, insight, and comedic timing of a public restroom wall. Ask someone to read you a little Oscar Wilde, H.L. Mencken, or P.J. O'Rourke (from his younger, funnier years). Or maybe just check Netflix for some Louis C.K. and Lewis Black.
They know from funny.
P.S. I hope you used part of your advance to buy a thesaurus.