by Michel Houellebecq
This is one depressing, shocking, intelligent, fascinating book. It’s very French. Not for the weak of heart, but utterly compelling.
If you are ever driving down a street called Flamingo or Desert Inn towards a neon-lit facade and you hear the Gourds' bluegrass version of Gin and Juice blasting in your ears...That would be me. In Las Vegas.
This is one depressing, shocking, intelligent, fascinating book. It’s very French. Not for the weak of heart, but utterly compelling.
Posted by zenhikers at 4:56 PM
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