Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Oh, snap

Dude, this is one tough review closer.

The book is actually closer to being the work of a teenage Woody Allen whose homework assignment is to write about love from the perspective of death in the style of an extremely anxious and quite devious American rock journalist who is to David Foster Wallace what Son of Dork are to Nirvana.

It is from the Telegraph review of Killing Yourself to Live.

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