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.