Lifers by Jeff Somers

This book kind of sucked, but it looked good at the library and it was short so it's not like it mattered that much. I was taken in by the exceptional "About The Author" thing at the back, one of the most entertaining I've ever read.

"Jeff Somers was born and raised in Jersey City, New Jersey, where he currently still lives. He began writing after an incident of severe head trauma when he was ten years old, and later graduated from Rutgers University under mysterious circumstances, with no memory of the intervening twelve years. After graduation, he drove cross country in his blue Chevy Nova and experienced a life changing epiphany and has not left the house since, spending his time in his bathrobe and pajamas, smoking cigarettes and drinking highballs. The neighborhood kids refer to him as "Bathrobe Man" and throw rocks at him whenever he appears on his porch to collect newspapers or liquor deliveries. In 1995 he began publishing his own zine, The Inner Swine, which has been met with resounding disinterest and international obscurity. The picture shown here is the most ridiculous photo he could find, and thus pleases him greatly. He is universally considered to look good in tight pants, and he sometimes hums to himself in public."

I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe the book version of "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels" and set in the U.S. I didn't get that. Oh well. Like I said, I'm not out a whole lot. It was short. And my screensaver is now the scrolling marquee displaying the sentence: "You wouldn't know crazy if Charles Manson was eating Fruit Loops on your front porch."

The Inner Swine