I don't know what I was thinking, reading this book. I knew, knew that it was the sequel to Less than Zero and I read it anyway. Because clearly there is something wrong with my head.Twenty years later, the boring, drug-addled narcissist kids of Less than Zero have turned into boring, gin-soaked, narcissist adults. At least some shit happened this time, but it's mostly a result of them doing fucked up things to each other, and since there isn't a single decent human being in the bunch I couldn't see my way to caring. (But that's okay, because none of the characters care either.)I suspect I'll go on to read American Psycho anyway. (I'm probably not the sharpest pencil in the box.)
