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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
In a comfortable, middle-class haven, full of liberal arts students, organic coffee shops and vegan pasties, Oswald Kuragin was moving up in the world: working out at the gym three times a week, getting up at 6:55am every morning and arranging his clothes in his wardrobe by genre, material and colour. Somewhere along the line, it went horribly wrong. The intricate jazz solos over Duke Ellington classics got replaced by the tuneless, incessant pounding of hard, industrial techno. A small whiskey in a crystal glass after work got ditched for cheap, saccharine cocktails full of Buckfast and energy drinks and hope and ambition got usurped by desperation, dirt and degeneracy. In this horrific and depressing tale, Ozz presents us with his descent into the dark depths of Edinburgh's underbelly: the goth subculture, Pick-Up Artistry and long, freezing cold nights of excess and self-indulgence. The Twenty-First Century has never looked bleaker.
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This title is printed to order. This book may have been self-published. If so, we cannot guarantee the quality of the content. In the main most books will have gone through the editing process however some may not. We therefore suggest that you be aware of this before ordering this book. If in doubt check either the author or publisher’s details as we are unable to accept any returns unless they are faulty. Please contact us if you have any questions.
In a comfortable, middle-class haven, full of liberal arts students, organic coffee shops and vegan pasties, Oswald Kuragin was moving up in the world: working out at the gym three times a week, getting up at 6:55am every morning and arranging his clothes in his wardrobe by genre, material and colour. Somewhere along the line, it went horribly wrong. The intricate jazz solos over Duke Ellington classics got replaced by the tuneless, incessant pounding of hard, industrial techno. A small whiskey in a crystal glass after work got ditched for cheap, saccharine cocktails full of Buckfast and energy drinks and hope and ambition got usurped by desperation, dirt and degeneracy. In this horrific and depressing tale, Ozz presents us with his descent into the dark depths of Edinburgh's underbelly: the goth subculture, Pick-Up Artistry and long, freezing cold nights of excess and self-indulgence. The Twenty-First Century has never looked bleaker.