ok but seriously like
this book
???????
i am just about a third of the way through it and first of all it could not be more apparent that no one dared edit it and also that morrissey is a total dick
lrn2paragraphbreaks lrn2chapters lrn2LYPHE TBQH why do you hate everyone who is trying to read your book, morrissey
and second of all oh my god i mean clearly this is morrissey and anything critical you could possibly say about his book will rightly be met with "well, yeah, duh?" but jfc must he make it so apparent that he is desperately in love with him self and just really loves to hear himself speak - or, in this case, to see his own words on a page
so much of this is like the ramblings of a grandad tbqh? like "yes, when i was your age, dear timothy, i used to enjoy watching the television programmes of my day, of course it was all in black and white then..." and then what feels like fifty pages (but is actually more like, idk, three or four, i lost count tbh) of him just banging on and on and on about the tv he used to watch as a kid????? FOR WHY? one would think he was trying to, idk, ~set the scene~ or something (i am currently also reading les miserables, you see) except... there is no scene to be set? just endless ramblings interrupted by other ramblings? dear lord