I just couldn’t get past the hangings at the orgies

I started reading William S. Burroughs’ Naked Lunch on March 19th.  By May 7th I was up to page 83 (out of 196).  That’s when I said, “no more.”

Fuck this book.  I fucking hate it.

If you like this book, congratulations.  You’re a different person than me.

Giving this book away to The Book Thing is too kind a fate for it.  Burning it is too horizontal a fate for it.  I just wish that, in 20-50 years, this book is just forgotten.  That’s the fate I want for this book: irrelevancy.

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