A Million Little Pieces -- OF CRAP

I couldn't take a hiatus forever you know. Surely you expected me back with something to say.

So, yes. I admit. I fell prey to the facade that is James Frey and his 'autobiographical' novel A Million Little Pieces. Ok - I admit it. I fell for it. Hook, line and sinker and every single word.

I even work in the travel industry and know the ins and outs. Yet - I chose to believe that there might just be a gate agent in this universe that would board a vomit and urine soaked, alcohol reeking passenger missing his front teeth. I've seen people denied boarding for feint alcohol breath. Why I fell for that theatric? I have no idea.

The root canal with no Novacaine should have also been a clue. Root canals WITH Novacaine sucks ass. Without? I would imagine might induce shock and death.

But --- I gave the first novel a break. Ok - The guy was an addict and he embellished a bit to get the readership he needed to convince that a life of an addict isn't a life. I'm ok with a certain amount of suspension of disbelief for that cause.

But now, I'm reading the second installment. "My Friend Leonard".

Somehow, I'm supposed to be surprised that the Mafioso that was obsessed with the young druggie had completely benovelent intentions. Not that love is a bad intention. And not that there is anything wrong with being gay. But is anyone really surprised that this is the outcome? Didn't we see it coming midway in the first novel?

But THE most retarded thing in the entire book? The dude wants a 'puppy'. So he heads off to the Latin section of Las Angeles to buy a pitbull puppy from the litter called the "Son of Cholo" - Cholo being an "undefeated campeon" - who weighs 50 lbs at 6 months and the maroon is then surprised when the full grown dog is somewhat incontrollable and wants to bite (read - rip the jugular out of) his other dog. And he's surprised by this. Hello? Is there a Mr. Du-MASS in the house??? PIT BULL. They're killers. It is what they do. Their daddy was named Cholo - Which in the vernacular means a Hispanic Meanass Thug. And Cholos was an undefeated champion. Champion at what did you think? Big poops? Um NO -- Biting other dogs' ASS!

Oh - And he's also pissed when his two DJ Rapper roommates have thug parties into the wee hours and he can't sleep. Whooda seen that coming?

The entire novel is one big whine-fest. He's brought teen angst right up to the treshold of adulthood. And, I'm afraid, beyond.

Whaaa - My parents were rich. Whaaaaaaaaa - They didn't pay attention to me. Whaaaaaa - They sent me to a good school. Whaaaaaaaaa- I could afford alcohol and dope and crack and you name it. Whaaaaaa - I got a few DUIs. Whaaaaa - I went to jail. Whaaaaaaa - Rehab. Whaaaaaaaa - A rich, gay Mafioso friend who made me into a millionaire for a couple of years. Whaaaaaaaa - REAL LIFE. Then -- Whaaaaaaaaaa...Two NY Times Best Sellers that people bought even though they knew it was crap.

Me included. Yes -- There IS a Ms. Du-MASS in the house.