In this, his third – and if there’s any justice on this earth, final – book, he once again takes you into his world of vehicular savagery, ultraviolence, rampant tequila freebasing, mindless thuggery, and some awfully gentle introspection, with such raw, unvarnished honesty, you would be fully justified in referring him to the police after page 32. Or chucking the fucken book into the bin after page 28. What does he care? Just stop reading this shit and hand over your money so he can finally afford to get his “I fuck fat chicks” tattoo removed.
Go on. You owe it to yourself. And to all the poor, huddled masses yearning to be free. Don’t forget them. Oh, and puppies.