Why?? Why did I read this. Why do I do this to myself.
After 3.75 years on GR tracking what I read, after 1,700+ books, this is the one that sent me over the edge.
Maybe don't come back and read my cathartic edited add-on word salad sewage upchuck of a nonsensical review, because it's going to be almost as awful as reading about blue slushie in the ass crack, shoving dirty toes down a throat, licking yolk off your hand after dashboard frying an egg and finger-painting with period blood while muttering in Russian or wait is it Ukrainian, which orphanage are the four brothers from again? Maybe where the potato vodka runs as deep as the 19 syllable word fuckfest in the cornfield that didn't even gross me out because I was too busy trying to decipher sentences
that
never
ended
and had different fonts, sometimes three to a page, with a wackadoodle snicker-poodle indent all the way to the right and then BAM– semicolon, splice, huge font, comma, scream, I'm not scared yet.