So, after this guy Jimmo cadges a ride from a couple lesbians (one of whom he's just, um, <I>been with</i> *nudgenudge winkwink*), he gets out of their elderly VW Bus and says:
<blockquote>"Thanks for the other night," she whispered. Her cute little tongue, with that little gold stud, flicked into my ear. "Take care, Jimmo."

"Yeah. Hey, thanks for all the rides." I looked at Margo, looked at Lilly, and somehow I knew I'd never see Margo again, which wouldn't rip me up much. Lilly I wasn't sure about, and if I did, now that would be a whole other story.</blockquote>
This is 1970s-level creep-you-out adolescent straight boy fantasy fan-fic stuff. I am NOT here for it. I'm out, it's deleted, and good riddance.

not bad comedic writing. I've seen this theme before and this book just did not hold my interest. I did purchase it when it came out...so at the time it did.

This tale is charming, critical, and perfectly Alaskan. If you've ever been to the "end of the road" in mainland Alaska, you'll be right at home. Michael is a fantastic mix of Carl Sagan and Tom Robbins and uniquely local.

While a slightly amusing story, it's not something that turned out to be my cup of tea. I didn't care for the writing overmuch, nor did I care for the main character.

I really, really enjoyed reading this book and am still thinking about it occasionally a week later.

I’ve been wondering how to categorise it, and think “speculative fiction” is a good choice. Michael picked up on two conspiracy theories, (1) the world is run by aliens called “Greys” who secretly control governments and abduct people for random experiments, and (2) the alien-controlled government use black helicopters to do mysterious things, and let his imagination run wild. He even developed entertaining ideas about the Greys and how they pretend to be human.

The story is told as a first-person narrative in a colloquial American English, which this Brit had absolutely no trouble following.

Jimmo, the narrator/hero, is clearly far from stupid and has a freewheeling and colourful mind. This story is entirely set in Alaska, apart from one short retrospective scene, and Michael paints a very plausible picture of the State and the sort of people who might find it the right place for them, or be attracted to move or visit there. Jimmo and I probably wouldn’t find anything in common if we met, but I liked him, and envied his independent and self-sufficient approach to life.

I’m still not sure if Jimmo’s totally nuts, or a bit nuts and right in what he believes, sees and remembers, or sane but badly rattled. He could plausibly be a Special Forces soldier who’d lost his marbles, or he could a genuine resistance fighter, and there were enough incidents to make me wonder. I think this is an excellent example of writing as an unreliable narrator. Whatever really happens in this fictional world, I was pleased with the ending. The way things were resolved left me feeling things would be fine.

This just wasn't my cup of tea. I couldn't get through it.

This book was provided by NetGalley in exchange for my honest review.
Sorry but it just didn't work for me. Mr. Armstrong has some talent as a writer but this was a poorly put together package. The humor is far too forced and far too frequent and just isn't an acceptable substitute for action or plotting. I'll definitely give his next effort a try to see if there's evidence of improvement.

Rauncy, comedy tale that doesn't solidly fit any particular mold. Told in first person POV, we follow "Jimmo" (schizophrenic?!) as he treks through Alaska and he enlightens us of how aliens control the government and use people for experiments. It's a journal/character study of a man's sexual escapades and travels, and butt chip implants. This is a unique story idea suffering from bad execution.

What a great adventure. Not what I was expecting however was better then I imagined.