by Neal Pollack
What an odd little book this is! Pollack is one of the ironically detached McSweeney's era writers, and it's really something to watch him struggle with his hipness and try to express some deep spiritual awakening. Ultimately, the ironic hipster dude gets the upper hand, and one's left wondering abo...
This was just boring. I don't think it's very funny. I couldn't figure out why I was reading it, so I just quit.
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