My morning gets off to its usual start. I wake up. Masturbate. Eat some bacon and eggs. Drink a cup of heavily creamed and sugared coffee. Have a frank discussion with my father about his testicles…And so goes another day in the over-sexed, drunk, occasionally well-intentioned, occasionally Catholic teenage life of Hank Fitzpatrick. His young adulthood has its dark moments, but it isn’t dark. It has its tragedies, but it isn’t tragic. Exotic Music of the Belly Dancer speaks to those nostalgic readers young and old who can quote John Hughes films, recite Guns N’ Roses lyrics, and are still pissed off that Freaks and Geeks got cancelled. These readers want to see the homecoming king fall flat on his face, implode in spectacular fashion, dust himself off, and then do it all over again. And if somewhere along the way they’re reminded of the redemptive power of a belly dancer’s love—well, that’s okay too.