Filth by Irvine Welsh
I've kind of skipped post-90's Irvine Welsh books because I found many of them to be not very good.
Porno was okay in parts but it lacked the same anarchic spark that made
Trainspotting so important to my adolescence or the pure absurdity that made
The Acid House so enduring. I only managed to get maybe 200 pages into
Glue before I gave up and
Bedroom Secrets of the Master Chefs was just dead on arrival for me.
I just found out that
Filth is actually being adapted into a movie and the idea of a tapeworm narrating the events of the unlikeable protagonist feels much closer to the anarchic humor that made me fall in love with this author, so I'm hoping it will renew my faith in him and go back out and finish reading his other novels.
edit: derp, just found out this was written in 1998, no wonder it sounds more interesting.