So one night, I walked into this bar and suddenly this hot guy buys me a drink, starts telling me the story of his life. I’m only half-attentive, watching for my friends, when he mentions being stuck on a gay nude beach in Italy.
He has my attention.
That is what it’s like reading Stern’s book. It’s like the good-looking bad boy in the bar, disarmingly charming in one breath, and the next, in unequivocally offensive, without apologies and with fantastic use of puns. I couldn’t complete this book in one go, not as a bender, but it’s as addictive as watching a car wreck, or a drunkard trying to score in a maternity ward. Additionally, the technical imperfections add to the character of this extended diatribe / one-way conversation.
Not everyone is going to buy into this book, get its humour, or enjoy its honesty, but if Josh Steiner ever somehow ends up in my corner of the world (on the run or not), I fully intend to buy him a beer.