The book's halfhearted, low-budget cover screams, "I'm drivel and trash and the publisher knows it."
To judge this book by its cover would be a tragic mistake.
In this collection of essays, articles and columns written for various publications over the years, Tom Robbins proves himself wittier than Dorothy Parker, more colorful than Hunter S. Thompson, sharper in perception than Andy Rooney.
Piercing, even. A journalist of the highest order.
It's worth the price of the book just to read Miniskirt Feminism, a reminiscence of the 60's originally published in the New York Times (1995).
Buy the book. Throw away the ugly dust cover. You won't be disappointed.