I was looking for trash lit and this was recommended by a gay friend of mine. Was it fun? Unfortunately, not really.

I love trash lit that is cheesy and fun and funny. You'd think a book about gay sex addicts would fit the bill perfectly but it just didn't bang.

The book is a series of satirised vignettes, usually featuring a rapacious homosexual, navigating his horniness in a chaotic sea of 'boyfriends'... but who quietly longs for something deeper.

Even for trash lit, it just felt very lazily written. If you're reading a book and you think "shit, maybe even I could be a writer", you know it's not good.

I think one of the reasons why the text suffers is because it's suspended in first person narration of the characters' thoughts which are predictable and uninteresting. It gets old. The plots are thin and the dialogue is sparse; mercifully the debauchery is not that graphic. The book leans too much on the gay voice style for humour.

At the very least, I came away with some sympathy for the plight of the gay man. Finding Real Love is hard enough—how much harder is it when you're internally (...or externally) compelled to fuck a million guys? Something's gotta give.