This is a really weird book, sort of Joycean stream-of-consciousness, pop cultural ramblings. There is almost no narrative to any of the short stories in the collection, rather there are just wild linguistic riffs that bounce all over the place. That said, the language is snappy and fun, sometime hilarious, and strangely, unexpectedly quite engaging.A couple random examples:"The Boston Celtics put me on waivers when I manifested the stigmata of Christ - I couldn't shoot without discomfort.""That night I dreamt of the mulligan - a huge crinite dugong-like sea mammal, thought to resemble, when beached and basking, those recumbent nudes of fin de siècle portraiture."Each page is full of weird gems like these. My guess is most people will hate this book, but I kind of ended up liking it once I just started going with the linguistic fireworks and stopped looking for coherency or meaning.
