Somewhat scattershot in terms of story/writing quality. Aaron's at his best writing non-fiction: personal essays, elaborate interviews, the history of his neighborhood, etc. His fiction staggers and stalls out, featuring characters who seem to represent one part of his personality each and, as such, never seem able to stand on their own. They're underdeveloped not because their thought processes or actions are one-dimensional, but because they lack context. Little is mentioned about the personal history of any of the four main characters, and the fact that they form a love quadralateral, but live in close enough proximity to see each other walking by their respective windows seems somewhat unbelievable. Throw in some token references to punk shows, squatting, crust hygeine, flyers, vandalism, radical politics, and record stores, and you've got a nebulous mass of a novella that would probably be all but inaccessible for anyone not in some subcultural "scene" that's at least loosely related to punk. That's not to say that these points of reference make it unreadable or unenjoyable, but they do make it appear somewhat masturbatory or self-congratulating at times, which leaves me, as a reader, less able or willing to sympathize with the characters or suspend my disbelief when they seem to act outside of the bounds of social mores set by either mainstream or punk culture. I'd recommend sticking to the Cometbus collections.