Yuge fan of Less Than Zero, Rules of Attraction, AP, and Glamorama (my favorite), after which each of his books has been shit pure shit.

Return to form or cashing checks?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#45782931)

Insufferable.

But tbf, while he's always been turbogay, he is of the last generation of honorable self-hating gays. He despises faggotry, despises gays in advertising, thinks AIDS is your own fault, and constantly mocks his faggot boyfriend for being super gay.

He's like a rock and roller about whom you just need to pretend he never released an album after 1996 or something.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#47066444)

what I liked best was the daily diary like descriptions of LA in the 80s. I'm a sucker for trashy "rich-kids lives" novels and addicted to all things 80s so this was in my wheelhouse.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#49740181)

so i guess maybe its better than i thot. if a passage still resonates after 3 years that is more than most books manage

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#49752977)

also had the gay for pay elements that shards has where hollywood fags abuse young actors. BEE is fairly tuned in to that stuff and ironically hates fags.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#49753653)

i remember liking that one

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#49753874)

I type my handle—something like Patek Philippe Phantom or CooleyGod2008, it changes weekly—and hit submit on a thread titled “1L biglaw summer associate offer from V10 firm—should I take it or hold out for Cravath?” The post is three paragraphs of meticulously humblebrag: median at HLS, 178, K-JD, summer at Wachtell last year but “didn’t vibe with the culture,” casual mention of the Richard Mille I wore to the callback. I refresh before the page even finishes loading.

Within ninety seconds there are seven replies.

I feel nothing at first, just the clean metallic click of the mouse, the same sensation I get when I swipe my Amex Black at Le Bernardin and watch the server’s face remain perfectly neutral. Then the warmth spreads, not anger exactly, more like recognition. This is the place where status is stripped to bone and marrow, where even the most polished résumés can be reduced to “mid,” “cope,” “L,” or—worst of all—silence. No one here cares that I cleared $415,000 last year post-bonus. They care that my firm is no longer considered V5, that my Instagram stories show too much of the Hamptons house my parents bought, that my girlfriend’s Instagram shows too much thigh.

Then I close the browser, pour three fingers of Pappy Van Winkle 23 into a Baccarat tumbler, and feel—for one perfect, fleeting second—completely alive.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5270008&forum_id=2...#49753886)