Buttery-Cheeks Anton vs. Beery Clive the Eunuch

The water heater is broken and the neighbors have been screaming obscenities at each other all evening (with the window open -- come on!) so it's time to dip into The Areas of My Expertise for comic relief. Y'all need to support the hobo-obsessed John Hodgman and pick this one up.

The first time I leafed through it, I was on a plane, and I'm not sure if the cute little bottles of vodka had anything to do with it, but when I read The Fucky from Kentucky in the list of hobo names, I went into hysterics laughing -- I could not speak for 20 minutes. My seatmates were wishing I would choke and die. I did spill my drink all over the book, so now it's all curly and wavy, so they got satisfaction out of that, at least, the rat bastards. I don't know quite how to describe this book. It's kind of a stream of consciousness piece by an egomaniacal, probably snooty liberal-arts-college-educated, pathological liar. It speaks my language, in other words.

I just gave this book to a funny friend and I'm anxiously waiting to hear if it makes him laugh. What better gift is there? (If I do say so myself.)