Home Land (by Sam Lipsyte)

I won this as a prize in our Tournament of Books pool this year, and started reading it on vacation. It's loosely epistolary, in the form of letters from the narrator, Lewis "Teabag" Miner, to his alumni association. The letters are crude, filthy, and honest to a fault, so they remain unpublished.

This book is entertaining as hell, a Bukowski-esque and very funny exploration of failed masculinity.  I dog eared half the book because it kept making me laugh out loud. I feel like it's probably not for everyone -- it's only very loosely plotted and it's very penisy.  (Focuses on men, lots of masturbation references, you know how it is.) But for sheer amusement factor, it's a lot of fun.