I’m reading this right now. Turns out it’s one of the most surreal, strange, headwrecking left field and intensely entertaining things I’ve read in I don’t know how long! I am saying this purely on the merit of the book, not that 140 pages of it kept me sane on the train the other evening and certainly not because the author, Julian Gough, is the lead singer of my favourite Irish band ever, Toasted Heretic and an all round good egg.
As a book it’s unfilmable which, of course, means I’d love to see it made into a film.
Go buy it. It has a lead character with a willy transplanted onto his nose. What more do you want?