Oh, Snogging. And Knickers. And DEATH.

Nope, never heard of Louise Rennison.

Hello.

Goodbye. Dead at 64.

When I scan obits and see "AUTHOR..." and never heard of someone, I wonder why.

Oh. She wrote for GIRLS. BRITISH GIRLS.

In other words, she's one of the twits responsible for twattery. Her books apparently are smarty-pants bloody-minded silly celebrations of narcissism and making fun of boys.

I base this on the nauseating titles:

Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging

It's OK, I'm Wearing Really Big Knickers

Knocked Out by my Nunga-Nungas

Dancing in my Nuddy-Pants

Startled by His Furry Shorts

Stop in the Name of Pants!

Luuurve is a Many Trousered Thing

Are These My Basoomas I See Before Me?

Rather precious, eh?

"Funny, she never married..."

What do these dopey books teach girls? That they should titter and giggle and be petty and stupid? To worry about their underwear? To be mindful that their tits are more important in getting ahead than their brains?

The woman was not just obsessive about knickers, "pants" and thongs. She had a separate series featuring a girl named Tallulah. The three titles published between 2010 and 2013:

Withering Tights, Midsummer Tights Dream, and Taming of the Tights.

We are dealing with a woman who "was a part of an "all-female cabaret group called Women with Beards," a performing group that poked fun at men and why they are responsible "for all the ills of society while the audience, largely female, would all cheer in agreement."

To quote the guy in "Frenzy" when he strangled women: "Lovely."

The world of "young adult" novels is a peculiar one. There are attempts at literature (the Harry Potter series, I suppose) but mostly a lot of pandering. It involves snot jokes, fart jokes, quizzical descriptions of teachers and parents, and an obligatory zaniness that would have Spike Milligan screaming "that's too fucking silly for even a retard."

We're living, after all, in an age where kids to go to see movies titled "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs." Har har.

Hacks like R.L. Stine knock out 80, 90 "Goosebumps" books and schools buy them, feature them at book fairs, and assign them in desperation of having brats read anything at all. Seems like good money can be made in this undemanding field, although I've noticed that since most of these things are now available in Kindle and PDF editions, eBay bootleggers are happily offering the entire "Goosebumps" series for $4.99.

In case you're tempted to read one of Louise's yeezies about knickers and pants, note this:

"A continual source of humour within the series derives from Georgia's family; her promiscuous mother, embarrassing father, eccentric younger sister..." but not porcine Aunt Amy or Uncle Darren? How about BFF Shauna, who sings Taylor Swift songs all night and shaves her twat all day?

Why ain't anyone reading "Pride and Prejudice" anymore? "Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging" is more the choice in the 21st Scentury.