I’ve got two words for this book. Not funny. Actually, I have two more. Not interesting. In fact, I found it unbearable.
Two guys are sitting on a porch talking. Their conversation wanders among many subjects. This novel is supposed to be a take-off on “Waiting for Godot.” I don’t know why “Waiting for Godot” needs a take-off. It’s sort of a take-off of itself.
I don’t know what the James Tait Black judges were thinking. A parody like this is funny for about two pages, not an entire book.
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What? Me Read? 
oof! Sounds bad.
Yes, and it won the prize, too. Amazing.