DISCLAIMER: No offense, Irish people!
Evan: This book blows ass and I hate the main character.
Adam: That’s the best book report ever.
Evan: Extended version: She’s an obnoxious self-centered taint, and I wanted her to die, or otherwise fail in some way, you know, a sort of reverse coming of age story, or maybe have the very Irish author all of a sudden stop talking about impoverished potatoes and sadness for five seconds and have a robot come in and hack her to pieces, but NO, so this is a shitty book.
Adam: Yeah, that’s the same reason I didn’t like The Third Policeman by Flann OBrien — incredibly Irish and no homicidal robots.
Evan: Maybe one day I’ll finish the book.* I put it down a year ago and haven’t been able to read a full book since, due to the fact that the author ruined literature forever. Also featured in the book? Deep, detailed descriptions of middle-aged heterosexual sex, involving GRAPHIC, DISGUSTING portraits of shuddering vulvas and the like. I actually threw this book against the wall at one point because the author grossed me out so much.
Adam: [Insert joke about shuddering Irish vulvae here.]
Evan: Oh, you’re making jokes? Obviously the Irish Vulva Famine didn’t affect the women in your family.
*Ha ha, like hell.