First off, this is not the short story collection I was expecting. It is actually a single-author antho-novel hybrid fulla leprechaun jism and other awesome rainbow flavors. Wait... what? No, I mean to say, never write reviews while on Norco, Soma, and about 2 hours' worth of sleep outta 36.
I've been trying to catch some Zs since I got home from my latest hospital stay and it's not going so well. So what's better than fighting sleep? Drug-addled reviews. Raise the roof and down the proof!
Standout favorites herein have to be "Guts", "Hot Potting", "Swan Song", and the uber-disturbing gender-role swapping of "Speaking Bitterness". The latter actually made me physically uncomfortable while reading it. One powerful goddamn story, friends and neighbors.
In fact, if it wasn't for the poetry (the poetry might be awesome and perfect in its poetry goodness, but I haven't a fuck to find for fancy verse) this would have been a five-star read for me. All the poems felt repetitive, the exact same in style and structure. I stopped reading them halfway through, and then went back and read all the ones I skipped. Didn't feel like I missed anything. Then again, I'm not into... well, you get the idea. Overall, I think they were filler. Not sure why they were needed because this book is almost twice as long as Palahniuk's most popular novels.
In summation: You have to enjoy high-class low-brow humor to dig this one. Me? I'm all for anal carrots and cream-filled CPR dummies. Bring on Make Something Up!
Final Judgment: Glow-in-the-dark covers are rad. *waves at Nettie and Jess*