Now that Thanksgiving is just around the corner, it's a great time to grab a copy of Sarah Walker's "Really, You've Done Enough: A Parents' Guide to Stop Parenting Their Adult Child Who Still Needs Their Money But Not Their Advice." Not only will it teach your overbearing mom and dad to give you enough personal space during your annual ritual of gorging on pumpkin pie and lazing about on the sofa in a tryptophan haze, but it will also instill the importance of keeping money freely flowing from their pockets and into yours well past Black Friday.

At least, one would assume that's what it does, based on the book's title and introduction. Sadly, however, "Really, You've Done Enough" is a hodgepodge of barely related topics that don't nearly begin to address the book's delightfully self-serving, fiscally lucrative premise. Though written with the framework of informing parents about how to interact and not interact with their grown-up children (give them money, but don't watch porn with them), once Walker sets up a half-hearted explanation of how free money enables post-degree youth to discover the "cure" for global warming, the book quickly devolves into a struggle to find decent comedy fodder. Walker babbles at length on nearly any topic she seems to think can fill up space, and no less than 10 percent of the book gets eaten up in deeply unfunny explanations of Facebook-related Internet technologies and drinking games that are "fun for the whole family."

Not to say the book is totally lacking in the funny. Comedienne Sarah Walker has worked on the staff of "The Daily Show" and currently performs with the Upright Citizens Brigade, and she puts that pedigree to work in some truly bizarre subjects. A segment called "Acceptable Childhood Myths to Still Insist Are True to Your Adult Child" made me regret I was never instilled with a proper fear of snow sharks in my youth. There are also some wonderful color illustrations of age-appropriate birthday presents for 20-somethings: a pony at age 20, a "preserved heart of a pony in crystal jelly jar" at 24. And her "Venn Diagram of Drugs" demonstrates the consequences of partying with your child — "You + Drugs + Your Child = Terrible Dragon Apocalypse."

All in all, however, the book leaves more questions and half-filled promises than answers, and when Walker mentions she is putting so much work into her chapter on sex that she has to TiVo her favorite show "Dogs with Jobs," my only desire is to put the book down and find out just what sort of jobs dogs can do — and my word, there are quite a few — one of those, undoubtedly, is writing the companion book, of sorts, called, "Oh, The Humanity: A Gentle Guide to Social Interaction for the Feeble Young Introvert," credited to Jason Roeder.

If Walker deals with parent-child relationships, Roeder tackles the people so socially inept that they barely know anyone at all, offering to teach the art of making friends, friends with benefits and even friends across international borders. The secret, conveniently, is to be funny.

Roeder, expert though he claims to be, fails miserably in taking his own advice, with a strange narrative voice that is at turns clinically serious and agonizingly "wacky."

The book is broken up into sections with winning titles like "Why'd my AIDS joke bomb? I mean, I was at an AIDS benefit." Along the way is a barrage of flash-in-the-pan pop culture references, from "Fergalicious" to "Saw III," though at the same time Roeder is strangely compelled to spend an entire paragraph explaining who Jerry Seinfeld is. And even the best part of the book — inexplicable pictures of dolphins photoshopped into odd situations — plays second fiddle to the free, weekly content on the websites I Can Has Cheezburger? and Something Awful.

Maybe the writer sincerely set out in a moment of cracked brilliance to write an unfunny book, with the result succeeding beyond his wildest expectations. Even so, should Roeder be applauded for artfully wasting his time on something that no one needs or wants, or should he just be studiously ignored until he goes away like the guy muttering vaguely unnerving, incomprehensible remarks to himself at the bus stop? I don't think we need even one "humorous" self-help book to answer that one.

"Really, You've Done Enough: A Parents' Guide to Stop Parenting Their Adult Child Who Still Needs Their Money But Not Their Advice”
2 stars out of 5

"Oh, The Humanity: A Gentle Guide to Social Interaction for the Feeble Young Introvert”
1 star out of 5