The Summer I Died

by Ryan C. Thomas

and enough alcohol to sterilize a Scottish commode.

The humour is awesome. Why a Scottish commode of all places?

I didn’t want to let on how much firing the gun had affected me, but it had certainly turned my nuts into giant Epcot Centers of steel.

Those are very large nuts.

And to top it off the dog stared howling, too, like we were all in some insane fuck-all butcher shop quartet.

This book is gruesome, OTT and then some more, but some of the similes are funny and great to read.

The makeshift lock pick was having about as much effect on this lock as a finger would have on a woman with ten kids.

Because we’re all part of God’s master plan, a master plan that lets evil men take away the lives of innocent people, that lets some of us live while our friends and loved ones die before our eyes.