I was really torn about this book until about halfway through. Once you get past the "I'm so punk" posturing, and the author beating you over the head with the ironic 2-dimensional stereotype, it actually does get pretty readable. It doesn't entirely make sense, but then if you're picking a book up off the "Bizarro" shelf that's called, "The Menstruating Mall", a little thing like that isn't going to bother you too much. It's a little hard to take the ironic commentary on sub-cultures and "individuality" seriously though, when the author is trying so very hard to fit into the punk genre himself. Apparently things like spell-checking and page numbers are too "mainstream" for this book. A lot has been made of the puerile doodles that serve as illustrations, but I think we all know some retard whose trashed doodling is actually so stupid it's funny, so I didn't mind it. The book is worth a read and at the end of the day, when you account for font-size and double spacing, it's probably only about 30 pages long - so it's not a huge time commitment. I suspect most people will either love or hate this book, but I somehow found myself in the "Meh" category. I don't mind it, but it could've been better.