This memoir is so fucking weird and so fucking good! I read Augusten Burroughs's books Running With Scissors and Magical Thinking far too young, and they are the books that got me into reading nonfiction. I'm glad he's found joy and love. He does reference some character traits in others as being "kind of autistic", which was a casual incorrect use of a medical diagnosis that I didn't like, but it's not coming from a place of malice.