This book landed for me at exactly the right time. ❤️❤️ 4.25 Stars
Just when I think I've read the funniest that John Inman has to offer, I stumble across one even better.
If you are in need of a pee in your pants kind of book with instalove greatness (yes our dear Mr. Inman is just a love at first sight kind of guy) with just hilariously written characters, including the cutest damn dog, and crazy antics then look no further than this! This book is not the best Inman I have read (Boys on the Mountain and Shy still hold the top spots) but good heavens...this comes pretty close. Highly recommended. ❤️❤️❤️
How pathetic was it when a person couldn’t even organize his day well enough to whack off once in a while? He could find time to write. He could find time to put in the hours at a series of low-paying jobs just so he could afford to write. He could find time to put up with his mother. So why couldn’t he find time to jack off?
God, he was so disorganized.
Gotta love John Inman. ❤️
Dill lived about a mile and half from his parents’ house in a second-story apartment in an area of San Diego known as Hillcrest. To Dill’s way of thinking, he was perfectly located. Hillcrest was San Diego’s answer to the Castro District in San Francisco. You couldn’t trip over a curb without hitting a homosexual, and that was just fine with Dill. He liked homosexuals. Most homosexuals do.
I swear the people in my office are going to have me committed. This book is so damn funny.
“I think you should go find this Hector and tell him how you feel, and if he says he isn’t interested, then slap a chloroform-soaked hanky over his face and drag him home and chain him to the bed and strip off his clothes and make him interested. And then write a book about it. Bondage sells like hot cakes.”
“Jesus, Gramps, is that what they’re showing on The Movie Channel? I need to turn my TV on once in a while.”
Gramps is a riot!!
"Now, listen, Dill. I don’t want you to say a word to your father. He’s been going on for years about you being one of those, well, you know, queerboys, and now I want to see the bastard eat crow. I mean, I want this all to be one big fat surprise.”
Dill chuckled. “Oh, it will be.”
“Hope your other half likes meatloaf. She does, doesn’t she?”
“Loves it to death. Big meat fan. Tube steak, especially. See you later, Ma.”
*snorts into coffee*
Gramps gave Hector a good shaking, like you do an apple tree when you’re trying to jar the apples loose, and then he scooped him into his arms again and squeezed him even tighter than he had before. Dill was almost certain he heard air escape; he wasn’t sure from whom, or from what orifice.
Gawd this book.
Good Lord, what had these three done after the book signing last night?
“You don’t really think the three of us are going to fit in that Porsche, do you? With my long legs, and your long legs, and Hector’s big dick. We’d never make it.”