I suppose it's a bit unfair to compare Burroughs to David Sedaris just because they're both gay essayists. But it's impossible not to. Sedaris is genius and I was hoping that Burroughs would be just as good, if only because I've run out of Sedaris books to listen to. Unfortunately, Burroughs doesn't even come close. He readily admits in one of the chapters that he is shockingly self-absorbed. There's no arguing that. It's clear from every story he tells. And in the end, it's difficult to like someone who's so into himself and thus, difficult to like stories told by an unlikeable person. Burroughs tries for sentiment sometimes, but it seems forced and always goes back to him, him, him. The humor is likewise tortured out of the banal stories which just don't deserve telling. And his attempts at self-deprecation are just not convincing given his pervasive egotism. Having said that, some of the reviews here are unfair and come from homophobic people who had no idea what they were getting into. That's not the reason to avoid this audiobook. The reason is you're much better off listening to one of Sedaris' over again.
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