I'm quite the giddy fan of masterful scribe Martin Amis, so it would be riotously remiss of me to miss out on this satirically blackened, deliriously drug-raddled, boisterously blood-spattered 'comedy' about this heroically hissy-fitted mob of morbidly muck-headed, middle-class, morally misled misfits from the deliciously poisoned pen of Amis! The charmingly monikered, disarmingly decadent 'Dead Babies' would make a deliciously sordid bedfellow to fellow visceral scrivener Irvine Welsh's no less acerbic 'The Acid House'. 'Love is the drug I'm stinking of, baby!'
Review of Dead Babies
