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"Sauermugg Redux" by Stig Sæterbakken, one of few Scandinavian authors that carry the banner of transgresson and push boundaries.

It's been translated to English, I can strongly recommend it.
 
My Year of Rest and Relaxation is the female American Psycho to the point that it has to be intentional. rich, disaffected, benzo-addicted youth obsessed with videotapes. they even go to the same nightclub, tunnel.
 
Slightly less bloody and psychotic, but I agree. I didn't remember the nightclub Tunnel from 'American Psycho' though. Time for a re-read soon.
It's very Bret Easton Ellis. Not much really happens, but as I'm an avid fan of Ellis, I liked the book a lot.
 
what kinda ending in that. i thought she was gonna get stuffed. we’re supposed to think she’s gonna get stuffed, right?
 
had high (fnarr) hopes for it, thought it was absolutely awful unfortunately, embarrassing

currently reading Hunter S Thompson's "The Rum Diary" - am not a fan of his stuff in general but am really enjoying this one
You didn't like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? I thought that one was tons of fun and a barrel of laughs 😎
 
I meam, with lines like:
"As your attorney I advise you to take a hit out of the small brown bottle in my shaving kit" and
"As your attorney I advise you to get the chiliburger. It's a hamburger with chili on it"
 
You didn't like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas? I thought that one was tons of fun and a barrel of laughs 😎
not so much no, but it's one of them that I saw the film first and so the book was then ruined by having my mental imagery dictated by the film instead of my imagination

book first always
 
Reread catch 22 and it gave up more gold

The Silmarillion by JR Tolkien.. shelved it and have no interest in picking it back up
 
Read:
Bored of the Rings
by Harvard Lampoon
(some of the jokes will be dated, but it's still a chucklebucket)
 
Having a trash chute was one of my favorite things about my building. It made me feel important, like I was participating in the world. My trash mixed with the trash of others. The things I touched touched things other people had touched. I was contributing. I was connecting.



currently reading Hunter S Thompson's "The Rum Diary" - am not a fan of his stuff in general but am really enjoying this one
is my favorite of his. certainly has a different feel. reminds me of his unfinished (or unpublished?) Prince Jellyfish.
 
I’d told the bartender—an old Polish lady—at the beginning, “I don’t like talking while I drink, so I may not talk to you.”

“Okay,” she’d said. “No problem.” She was very respectful.
 
Don’t accuse myself. Seek the basis of selfishness: nothing that I am not can interest me, it is impossible to be any more than what you are (nevertheless I exceed myself even when I’m not delirious, I am more than myself almost normally); I have a body and everything that I do is a continuation of my beginning; if the Mayan civilization doesn’t interest me it is because I have nothing in me that can connect with its bas-reliefs; I accept everything that comes from me because I am unaware of the causes and I may be trampling something vital without knowing it; this is my greatest humility, she figured.
 
Knights of Heliopolis, by Jodorowsky & Jeremy
BLAME!, by Tetsuo Nihei
Les Combles Parisiens, Roland Topor
 
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