On the whole, The Moron at the End of This Book is an insightful, self-scrutinizing memoir about the highs and woes of a life, perhaps not well-lived, but, well, lived. With a collection of short stories and love letters to the living and the dead, author Andrew Couch calls upon nearly 40 years of impulsive actions, unusual friendships, odd jobs, and a careworn moral compass to deliver a mercifully one-of-a-kind account of a man in search of approval from his child-self.
In First Communion Blues, the glory of virtue and faith collide with the agony of excess and innocence. Take an engaging and darkly humorous journey through questionable-but-entertaining choices connecting near-death-by-karate-belt to slap-dash psycho-analysis in Hang On, Diagnosis! Get a behind-the-retail-counter glimpse into the world of fanatical-but-sweet post-mortem Elvis worship in Graceland. In Ain’t No Heroes Here, we learn why drugs might be bad for people. In Curiosity Killed the Cake, we learn why drugs might be bad for coconut cake and good sex. And of course no good memoir would be complete without mention of the coming-of-age, poorly-handled bodily functions revealed in Of Course, I Give a Shit.
Says Couch: “Moron may be my native tongue, but to be useful is my love language. I’ve pursued my weird interests and developed various skills for that purpose - to be useful. I’m the kind of guy you can trust to be on time while ensuring you maintain a sense of moral and intellectual superiority. You know, like a dog or a child of average intelligence.”
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