The author made it from priviledged childhood, to life of hard work in kitchen craft before plummeting into a drug-directed, sex-driven existence. It's fairly interesting (I'll never go to another all-you-can-eat buffet at the club), though I'm not sure if I would call it a comedy--more of an adventure. The trouble is, unlike other autobiographers, this attempt feels a bit too self-referential, self-congratulatory, and, frankly, flat. The plodding narration does nothing to lift it from the two-dimensional, and suffers from overwrought descriptions that does not add to one's understanding.
Overall, I would recommend the book with reservations; it may be better to skip through some chapters to get through it. In the end, I really didn't come to have any affection for the author which was the biggest disappointment.
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