Perfect bathroom reading, but it's hardly a definitive resource of lost trends of the 70s and 80s.

Just like some ghosts are better than others, so are the stories in this book.

This is three books in one, unfortunately none of them are very good. I think I'll stick to the acting Mr. Pegg.

Another view into Sedaris' crazy world. After listening to him read his Santaland Diaries, I can't not hear his voice in my head while I read. And if you've heard his Billie Holiday impression, you know how weird a sensation that can be.

Kept hoping that Sam would burn down the Brock Clarke house.

The best reviews of the worst movies.

A great way to spend 5 hours in a car driving down to New Jersey over 4th of July weekend. Some of the stories are reprinted from the New Yorker, but it's interesting to hear them read aloud with the emphasis on all the right things.

The super hero version of magical realism. What would happen if super heroes and villians were really wandering around? This book lets you find out.

The movie was so bad it made me read the book. How very different plot-wise. A decent coming of age story.

A fictionalized “Nickle and Dimed”, if you will, seen through the eyes of a CT Red Lobster manager on the day the restaurant closed.

Fantastic account of the five movies nominated for Best Picture in 1968. How does The Graduate, Bonnie and Clyde, In the Heat of the Night and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner all get nominated in the same year as Doctor Dolittle?

The subtitle is more entertaining than the actual book.

We get it. You are independent and don't need anyone's help, especially not from your superhero parents. But do you have to tell us in every chapter?

The seedy underbelly of the record industry from a one-hit wonder band.

Every time I think about owning a book store, I will re-read this book.

Fantastic premise and I quickly got wrapped up in the story wondering what was actually going on here. Unfortunately it slowly devolved into a masturbatory writing exercise. Perfect for that kid in the back of your freshman english class with the “I break for tribbles” patch on his backpack.

Lee Fiora needs a good talking to, and perhaps therapy, although neither would save this downer of a book.

“Wouldn't it be a hoot to open a Deli so I'll have a premise for a novel, which I'm going to call a memoir even though I've invented situations, characters and conversations.”

Big, bratty Brit lit. Perhaps this would be a more interesting read when he's in his 60s. Now though, it feels like the 50 word essay you had to do in second grade when you had to pad it with 10 very, verys at the end.