“I wonder if I’ll be the last person she ever sees. And I
wonder if she’ll be disappointed.”
A fictionalised snippet of the life of a policeman. Not your
standard policeman, though (at least I fucking hope not), a policeman who is an
angry fucker with a steroids problem, a foot fetish, and is generally losing
his mind and his life because of his issues.
Our policeman Jake is narrating the story. He tells us
what’s going on and how he feels about it, starting at the beginning when he is
involved in helping a young lady after a car crash. We get his account of it,
and we also get some scribbles in his policeman’s pocket notebook, as we do at
the end of each event throughout the book.
Thing is, the more fucking mental he goes, the less
policeman-y type shit is written down in the book, and instead it starts to
become a diary, and then a book of ... well ... angry words and hate and a bit
of self-loathing. As I’m an awful cunt, the more fucked up everything became,
the more I like it. As Jake falls deeper into his crises the text starts to
read like your favourite fucked-up authors: Anthony Burgess, Irvine Welsh and
Hunter S. Thompson; you know what I mean, where you’re not quite sure what the
fuck is going on or why or even what is actually happening anymore, but you
like it.
I liked this a lot. It’s fucked up and desperate and raw,
with some excellent characters and some fucking bellends featured throughout.
If you’re a fan of the authors I mentioned above, then buy
it and see if you like it as much as I did.
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