You’re probably reading a Chuck Palahniuk sex story.
The premise of Snuff is simple enough – a world record is about to broken. This is the story of the day in the life of 600 dudes, including an aging porn star . . .
a boy with a secret . . .
and a bunch of other randos . . .
Each of these shank-shuckers/baby-barfers/tadpole-tossers or whatever you want to call them anxiously awaits their turn at a bang session with the queen of the adult film scene, Cassie Wright. While waiting in the wings the jizz-juicers/sock-soakers/bone-beaters or whatever you want to call them will kill time popping little blue pills, watching some classic films for inspiration such as Sperms of Endearment, Angels with Dirty Places, Lay Misty for Me and the ever-popular The Handmaid’s Tale . . .
It’s okay Kanye. That was funny – and the public flogging you’ll receive by the members of Goodreads for laughing at that will only hurt until the bruises fade. The ceiling-spacklers/weasel-teasers/willy-wankers or whatever you want to call them will also let some skeletons come tumbling out of their respective closets . . . .
No, I mean big secrets . . .
Okay, HUGE secrets . . .
which all leads up to a patented Palahniuk ending.
My sincerest apologies, Chuck, but you really . . .
with this one. It almost makes me want to go raise my rating for Beautiful You. Almost. If you have nothing better to do and want to say you read something by Palahniuk since he’s soooooo edgy, don’t let this review stop you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. Oh, and if you think I read everything wrong (and spend all day talking about how I’m related to Lucifer and/or trolling), go read Kemper or Ed or Bill’s reviews instead since they all found it to be equally “meh” as I did.