(At least that movie has both Colin Firth and Hugh Grant to distract me from Renee viciously critiquing her own body and, like, spilling coffee all over herself or whatever.) He is capable of two actions, like a mildly impressive Ken doll: 1) sex person and 2) valiant hero trying to kill himself in the name of his friends constantly. Rhys makes me cringe harder than Renee Zellweger in Bridget Jones’ Diary. It is also X-rated, due to the strength of my anger and the copious sex scenes in the source material. We’ve got some categories to run through.ĭISCLAIMER: This review is teeming with spoilers. That shouldn’t scream “rational and in control of her passionate fury” to you. I counted two hundred (and two) uses of a word over seven hundred pages. Seven pages of sh*t to complain about.Īnd I’ve never been an efficient reviewer. If you feel satisfied enough to just remove yourself from this review, run with that feeling. That statistic alone should be enough to justify this one star rating. That’s the number of times that the word “mate,” in any of its hellish forms, is used in this book.
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