The Losers Club by some pillock

This book forum is pointless. I told you all to read Bukowski, bet no-one did. Told you all to read A Confederacy of Dunces, no-one bothered. Not to worry. Here’s a different book review. Here’s a book not to read, and since you wouldn’t read it if I recommended it anyway you’re going to do exactly what I want by not reading it. So 1-0 to me.

Mummy is a doctor and daddy is a lawyer. Oh god isn’t college life tough?

This book is written for people like that. Privileged kids who invent hardships to make themselves sound more interesting. People who’ll read drivel like this and then think it says something about the struggles of life because their mobile phone broke last week and that proves that they never got a break.

It’s the most annoying book I’ve ever read. It would be alright if the ponce of a lead character was actually treated by the author with the utter contempt he deserves, or even if there was any sense of irony in the writing style. But no, it’s obvious that the bloke who wrote this book is actually one of these types of people. So here’s a book whereby this bloke spends god knows how many hundred pages lamenting about how misunderstood he is, how no-one appreciates him and how women don’t love him because he thinks he’s too much of a deep and meaningful person. Justified by the fact that he tries to paint himself as being some kind of an enigma to the opposite sex.

*NEWSFLASH COCKNOSE*
BIRDS WON’T SHAG YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE A SOFT TWAT.

The plot is simple, there is no plot. It’s just some whiny gaylord trying to sound arty and sensitive. It’s pumpers like this that are directly responsible for some level headed bloke inventing the steel toe capped boot.

Some fella was down the shipyard one day and a steel girder got dropped on his foot and completely crushed all his toes.
“Is there anything we could do to stop this happening again?” his boss asked.
“No, it’s just an occupational hazard, nothing we can do I’m afraid. But ey-up, look over there – there’s that twat who wrote ‘The Loser’s Club’ talking to a goth. I’ll tell yer what, I think someone needs to invent a big bovver boot with steel toe caps.”
“Hang on though mate, look who’s turned up now. You must be joking. It can’t be! I don’t believe it – it’s only fucking Marilyn Manson. Screw big boots, I’m off to get me gun”.
True story.

I met this bird once who came from Nottingham and she should have been in this book. She was an annoying, pretentious little squirt as well. Granted, I had a go on her, but you know how it is. You got to take the chances when they come. To illustrate my point, she probably went home to suburbia and told everyone about me. Probably described us as having a “liaison” and told her friends I was a little bit uncouth and unkempt. Unfortunately, I’m not the type of person who’d fit into this book so I went to the pub and told my mates that I’d shagged a posh bird and she was shit. Didn’t even give me Horatio, the bloody lesbian. Ah well, so it goes. You can’t win ‘em all.

So, since you are not going to read this book I can safely give away spoilers. You can read half the book, all the book or even just the first page. It will end the same. It’ll end with you wiping your arse on it and flushing it down the toilet.

In conclusion.
Disappointing.