how the dead live. A couple years ago, I started this book, and just couldn’t continue. Just coulnd’t start into a book, where the second introduced character a reanimated dead fetus. Yea and yuck.

So this time, two years later, I started in the middle. That worked out better. Cynical, bitter, and hilarious takes on the whole fuckin living world, from the point of view of the dead. Will Self’s prose in chewy and laugh out loud poetic.

Maybe not the best book to read before moving back to London. Geez, I lived in Dulburb Junction myself. The consolation is, only someone who loved London much could write about it with such venom.