A blagger's guide to living in hotels around the world cheaper than it costs to rent a flat. Thank you playboy Paul Carr for spotting this glaring market gap!
After a while, however, the book tends to slowly repeat itself. Endless tales of getting überdrunk and boozy sex romps, of which he has no recollection the morning after, slowly lose their novelty. The only nod to reality seems to be Carr's confession that yes, he does occasionally work like the rest of us, doing the odd bit of freelance-writing here and there to shore up his unconventional lifestyle.
All very nice and escapist - if you like that sort of thing. But after wading through almost 300 pages the book begs the question: is this man's jet-set life of drink and debauchery more a bloated ego trip than a practical self-help guide?
