I’m so sorry. I feel so bad. Remember this post? The one where I went on and on about what shitty pulp books I liked? Turn out I forgot to mention my all-time favourite book and the only one worth a damn on that list:

Slaughterhouse Five.

You might ask yourself:
“But Bert, why tell us this now, more than a month after the last post?”
(You might also ask yourself “But Bert, why did you lie?” with a tear in your eye, to which I say “Hush little one, it’ll be alright.”)

Because I stumbled upon this great summary of why Slaughterhouse Five is so great. Thanks, John Green!



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